Me and My Friends vs. You and the Zombies

Gavin’s P.O.V

I watched the dazed blonde stumble down the stairs, his fingers trying to grip the wall to steady himself as his feet moved down the carpeted steps as if of their own accord. A low groan turned into a yawn, he rubbed his eyes and smiled, he nearly hit me as he stretched. Why he couldn’t do all of this upstairs in his room I don’t know. Making strange noises and heading for the kitchen he mumbled something to Matthew who came out of the room with a cup of tea.

“Yeah,” Matt slurred in reply to the ‘G’morning’ he received.

“Bad night?” I asked him.

“Whoa, Gav, do you have to shout? It’s not a bloody rave.”

“I’m not shouting.”

“Shhh!” Sean added walked past with a bowl of what seemed to be half Cheerios and half Coco Pops.

I followed the pair into the lounge, as Sean started to sloppily feed himself Matthew started up a game of Pacman on the Playstation 2. As if in a trance he made the small yellow blob zoom across the screen, eating those white dots and running for ghosts. His face was tired and vacant but the simple actions of the game seemed to be on auto-pilot in his mind.
Sean and I watched, just as mindless as he was, transfixed by the bright colours and loud ‘waga-waga-waga’ that filled our ears. Soon, Matthew’s reactions slowed and the pink ghost caught him.

‘Waga-waga-hheeeeey-boop’

“FUCK! Shit! Bollocks!” Matthew exploded making me jump and Sean jolt his spoon missing his mouth and dropping milk all down him.

“Crap!” Sean exclaimed standing and wiping milk off of his t-shirt.

“Balls!” I cried, feeling a little left out.

“God, give me a fucking heart attack Matthew!”

“Sorry!” Matt said, starting the game again. “That damn ghost gets me every time. Stupid shit.”

“Calm down, don’t have a spaz,” I told him softly, falling back on the sofa and rubbing my chin, putting my feet up on Sean’s lap as he sat back down.

“Four year olds can play this game, Matt, and you still failed,” Sean jeered.

“Bitch!” Matt muttered.

“Whore!” Sean retaliated.

“Ah!” He squeaked, sounding very camp as he did so especially with the hand flick that accompanied it.

I stood up thinking it might be best to put some jeans on now I had company…well I always have company it’s just whether they’re awake or not. Stopping to look at myself in the mirror I noticed a shadow at the front door. It looked like it was…shuffling along our front path; it was getting closer…and closer till I saw a hand touch the glass pounding it gently. I screamed ducked and rolled as far as my facial haired un-jeaned body allowed me.

“Gav, what you doin’ you muppet?!” Sean inquired, laughing.

I stood up shaking; I had carpet burn on my knees, ow. I don’t know what made me do that, brief mental breakdown maybe, anyway, I thought I should go answer the door to stop the low, steady pounding on the glass. I wrenched it open to see Rhys in all his sleepy, hungover glory grinning back at me. He blinked, looked down at my boxers and smirked.

“Morning, Superman.”

“It’s super dude actually!”

“Whatever. I’m upset that you don’t look pleased to see me.”

“What?” I asked, raising my eyebrow at him. He pointed at my crotch; I rolled my eyes as he pushed past giggling. “Gay boy.”

“In the flesh.”

“Urgh, Rhys you’re still drunk aren’t you?” Asked Sean laughing.

I closed the door carefully after checking there weren’t anymore lurking band mates nearby. We were blates the best band in the whole fucking universe [laughs] oh god that tequila hasn’t worn off yet…and I still don’t have any jeans on.

Sean and Rhys were off laughing in a corner of the sofa. I heard a mutter that sounded like ‘if you don’t touch me I won’t touch you’ and then a reply that I could have sworn was ‘what if you’re on fire? I shook my head grinning; they’d be like that all day. They were like that every day. It’s just the way we lived.