Are You a Lover or a Fighter?
Kitchen Net
After the concert I was quick to realize the only thing that was more disgusting than Frankie's attempt at a combination of emo-scenester-hair/faux-hawk/mohawk, was Gerard and Libby... And their endless makeout session.
"Ew..." I shuddered, watching them infront of the van.
"Seriously..." Frankie muttered taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Oh my God!" Libby squealed pulling away from Gerard. "You guys just agreed on something!"
"Don't get used to it..." I muttered.
"Loser..." Frankie responded under his breath.
Frankie was next to me in the back of the van... It was the band's sad attempt to make us not want to kill eachother...
Frankie's elbow jabbed into my ribs, "OW! Fuck!" I yelped before elbowing him back.
"What the hell?!" he yelled, holding his side. "Ray, she's fucking elbowing me!"
"You did it first!" I yelled defending myself.
"Stay on your own fucking side then..."
"What the fuck?! Are you serious? If I moved over -any- more... I'd be outside the fucking window, asshole!"
"Not a bad thing..." he muttered.
"Just because you'd love to be on top of me..." I started, purposely trying to piss him off.
"Hmph! You fucking wish, sweetheart..." he hissed.
I kicked his thigh hard, "Then fucking move over already!"
"Don't make me turn this van around!" Mikey shouted in a 'motherly' tone, "Cause I will... OoOoOoo, I will!"
Frankie and I both breathed heavilly through our noses like stubborn eight-year-olds, "Copy-cat.." he muttered.
"Thats real mature," I spat back with a glare.
"Fuck you... You're just jealous."
I laughed, "Please! Of what? A second rate guitarist?!"
"Bitch."
"Asshole."
"Whore."
I froze before punching him as hard as I could in the arm.
"OW!" he yelled glaring dangerously at me.
"You ever call me something like that again...I'll kill you!" I yelled.
"And I'll fucking help her!" Libby glared, intervening for the first time.
"So your friend can call me names and shit and I'm not allowed to retort?"
"No, not with that term," Libby glared. "Call her whatever else you want." I rose a brow at Libby like 'what?!' "But not that."
"Whatever," he muttered.
"Frankie! Apologize to Celeste..Right now!" Mikey ordered adorably.
"Fuck you, Mikey," he replied.
"Frank!" Gerard glared.
"Fine.." he muttered, "I'm sorry I got every body fucking emo, but I don't take it back."
"You're a scumbag," I muttered.
"And you're fucking touchy as hell."
"Just stop fucking talking to me."
"With pleasure."
"Where are we going anyhow?" I asked suddenly.
"To the hotel to chill until the tour bus saves us tomorrow," Mikey answered.
"wait, I have to pack..."
"I had Travis pack for us... I gave him a list of what we needed.." Libby grinned.
"Oh God.." I laughed.
The hotel's really cool," Mikey said randomly. "We got a suite with three bedrooms... and a living room.. And a kitchen net."
"No.. Mikey.. Its 'kitchenette'," Gerard corrected.
"Thats what I said," Mikey replied looking slightly confused, "Kitchen net.."
"No...ugh..nevermind," Gerard said giving up.
"So.. What do we gots fo' beats up in this piece?" I asked in a faux hip-hop tone.
"Why are you just -craving- some Avril Lavigne?" Frankie asked sarcastically.
"No, but I'm sure -you- are..." I spat back, "Or maybe you only like listening to yourself."
"Fuck you."
"Do you have any Guns N' Roses?" I asked.
"Oh my God!" Mikey squealed. "I love you."
"Score!" I grinned as Bob put in GNR.
In about twenty more minutes, we arrived at the biggest hotel I had -ever- seen. "Wow..." I whispered my nose nearly pressed flat against the glass of the van's window.
"Its a hotel," Frankie muttered, "Get over it."
"Why do you have to be such a dick?" I whispered softly, yeilding no response.
Our room was on the 11th and top floor: RM 1131.
I had pulled my cam-corder out in the elevator as we all (except for Frankie who just shook his head and glared) broke into 'Love in an Elevator' by Aerosmith...and might I say, the boys did a very impressive a capella cover?
"So Gerard," I asked as Ray opened the door to the hotel room, "what are your intentions with my best friend?"
He grinned, "I'm not permitted to disclose that information."
"Mmm.. Sounds kinky.." I grinned.
"Ew..." I shuddered, watching them infront of the van.
"Seriously..." Frankie muttered taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Oh my God!" Libby squealed pulling away from Gerard. "You guys just agreed on something!"
"Don't get used to it..." I muttered.
"Loser..." Frankie responded under his breath.
Frankie was next to me in the back of the van... It was the band's sad attempt to make us not want to kill eachother...
Frankie's elbow jabbed into my ribs, "OW! Fuck!" I yelped before elbowing him back.
"What the hell?!" he yelled, holding his side. "Ray, she's fucking elbowing me!"
"You did it first!" I yelled defending myself.
"Stay on your own fucking side then..."
"What the fuck?! Are you serious? If I moved over -any- more... I'd be outside the fucking window, asshole!"
"Not a bad thing..." he muttered.
"Just because you'd love to be on top of me..." I started, purposely trying to piss him off.
"Hmph! You fucking wish, sweetheart..." he hissed.
I kicked his thigh hard, "Then fucking move over already!"
"Don't make me turn this van around!" Mikey shouted in a 'motherly' tone, "Cause I will... OoOoOoo, I will!"
Frankie and I both breathed heavilly through our noses like stubborn eight-year-olds, "Copy-cat.." he muttered.
"Thats real mature," I spat back with a glare.
"Fuck you... You're just jealous."
I laughed, "Please! Of what? A second rate guitarist?!"
"Bitch."
"Asshole."
"Whore."
I froze before punching him as hard as I could in the arm.
"OW!" he yelled glaring dangerously at me.
"You ever call me something like that again...I'll kill you!" I yelled.
"And I'll fucking help her!" Libby glared, intervening for the first time.
"So your friend can call me names and shit and I'm not allowed to retort?"
"No, not with that term," Libby glared. "Call her whatever else you want." I rose a brow at Libby like 'what?!' "But not that."
"Whatever," he muttered.
"Frankie! Apologize to Celeste..Right now!" Mikey ordered adorably.
"Fuck you, Mikey," he replied.
"Frank!" Gerard glared.
"Fine.." he muttered, "I'm sorry I got every body fucking emo, but I don't take it back."
"You're a scumbag," I muttered.
"And you're fucking touchy as hell."
"Just stop fucking talking to me."
"With pleasure."
"Where are we going anyhow?" I asked suddenly.
"To the hotel to chill until the tour bus saves us tomorrow," Mikey answered.
"wait, I have to pack..."
"I had Travis pack for us... I gave him a list of what we needed.." Libby grinned.
"Oh God.." I laughed.
The hotel's really cool," Mikey said randomly. "We got a suite with three bedrooms... and a living room.. And a kitchen net."
"No.. Mikey.. Its 'kitchenette'," Gerard corrected.
"Thats what I said," Mikey replied looking slightly confused, "Kitchen net.."
"No...ugh..nevermind," Gerard said giving up.
"So.. What do we gots fo' beats up in this piece?" I asked in a faux hip-hop tone.
"Why are you just -craving- some Avril Lavigne?" Frankie asked sarcastically.
"No, but I'm sure -you- are..." I spat back, "Or maybe you only like listening to yourself."
"Fuck you."
"Do you have any Guns N' Roses?" I asked.
"Oh my God!" Mikey squealed. "I love you."
"Score!" I grinned as Bob put in GNR.
In about twenty more minutes, we arrived at the biggest hotel I had -ever- seen. "Wow..." I whispered my nose nearly pressed flat against the glass of the van's window.
"Its a hotel," Frankie muttered, "Get over it."
"Why do you have to be such a dick?" I whispered softly, yeilding no response.
Our room was on the 11th and top floor: RM 1131.
I had pulled my cam-corder out in the elevator as we all (except for Frankie who just shook his head and glared) broke into 'Love in an Elevator' by Aerosmith...and might I say, the boys did a very impressive a capella cover?
"So Gerard," I asked as Ray opened the door to the hotel room, "what are your intentions with my best friend?"
He grinned, "I'm not permitted to disclose that information."
"Mmm.. Sounds kinky.." I grinned.