Pictures on Silence

I rode up with the bus driver Tony for the last few hours of the drive into Nevada. Feeling incredibly small and insignificant amid the bright lights towering into the night, I finished off a roll of film and smiled to myself as the camera rewound it, feeling like a complete idiot tourist. As per normal with one of my habits, I hummed the line from The Ataris' song and wondered if Vegas would really be as unimpressive in the morning.

We didn't go to anyone's house, as I had expected us to, but to the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino. The air buzzed with the excitement of coming home. I silently followed the guys, all dragging our bags, into the hotel and gazed around, taking everything in. I must have looked a right git, staring at everything.

After dumping all our things in the middle of the suite, the five of us stood in a circle, competitive expressions gracing all faces. "Okay, there's five of us and four beds," Ryan informed, looking around the circle, "So someone's sleeping in the bathtub. Winner of each round gets the best available. Everyone ready?"

"One, two, three!"

Everyone threw out their hand signal and four people made noises of disappointment. Ryan crossed his arms, smirking, and watched the rest of us continue playing Rock Paper Scissors for sleeping arrangements.

"Damn," I said, snapping my fingers when Jon won one bed in the second room. Brendon, Spencer, and I faced off again.

"Damn it," I declared forcefully when Brendon won the third bed in the suite. He, Ryan, and Jon chuckled. Spence and I stared intently at each other like two gunslingers, trying to psych the other out. I would not lose that foldout couch. We both threw down.

"God damn it!" I exclaimed when his rock beat my scissors. All of them laughed at my outburst, and I pouted. After a moment, I shrugged. "Oh well. I've slept in stranger places than a bathtub before."

"Such as?" Jon prompted as they picked up their bags and moved them to their rooms.

With my arms crossed, I followed him and Brendon into their room, where two single beds lay on either side of a dresser. "Oh, you know, pool deck, the floor of Matt's studio, the back of Jesse's van with my drunk best friend..."

Brendon laughed and went back into the main room. "There's obviously a story there," he stated as Jon and I followed. I grinned and nodded admittedly. "Do tell, princess."

"So long as you never call me princess ever again," I bargained. He held up his hands in defeat, making Spencer and Ryan laugh. I sat down on the arm of the couch and crossed my legs.

"Okay, so my friend Bianca and I went to this party at the end of last month after school ended, and, you know, it was a high school party so people were boozing and whatnot. I'm not really a social drinker-- I had five or six shots, which is a lot less than I can handle-- but Bianca got wasted, and we were supposed to go back to her house for the night, but her parents were out for the weekend and my step-mom would blow a gasket, so I called Aero-- that is to say, Aromi-- but he couldn't let us stay with him because he was staying with his boyfriend Charlie, so he drove us to Jesse's house at three in the morning and we slept in the back of his van."

The four of them laughed. "How'd you get in?" Spencer asked.

"He gave me a key so I wouldn't have to keep bugging him when we played shows," I replied, smiling.
Brendon shook his head, still laughing. "What'd he say the next morning?"

"Well, his sister Sarah had work the next day, so she had to take their dad's car and she made Jesse take us home. He didn't really react much. I think his exact words were 'As long as you didn't ralph in my van, I still love you'." I joined them in laughing. "Bianca would not stop bitching the whole way up to Marin about her headache. That was probably the most unpleasant part."

"Well," Jon said, "That was pretty much the best bedtime story ever."

The guys decided to turn in early since they had a show at noon the next day. Spencer and Brendon promised me we would have an afternoon and night on the town, so I joined them in going to sleep, saying I needed time to get ready. The only problem was, even with an extra pillow and blankets from room service, I couldn't sleep, and I'd let Jon borrow my iPod earlier, so I couldn't listen to music.

After lying around in tremendous boredom for some amount of time, a new lyric popped into my head and I crept out of the bathroom to retrieve my notebook and to ninja Ryan's guitar. I switched on the light and returned to the bathtub, squinting. Sitting with both legs hanging over the edge of the tub, I jotted down the line and strummed a random chord, which didn't sound right, so I strummed another one and got another idea.

This continued for some time until I had half a page of lyrics and a voice spoke drowsily from the doorway. I turned my head and stared innocuously at Ryan, who stood straining to see against the light with an empty glass in one hand.

"It's eleven thirty," he said, "What are you doing? Why aren't you asleep?"

"I write best at night," I vindicated. "And I have trouble getting to sleep anyway, let alone in a porcelain tank that God-knows how many naked people have been in." He smiled vaguely. I played an A minor chord softly. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I needed a drink of water." He held up the glass. "But since we're the only ones awake, I can offer you half my bed without anyone bitching or insinuating." I tilted my head back and forth, thinking as I softly played one of my favourite classical guitar pieces. "Unless you think I'm going to do inappropriate things to you for stealing my guitar."

I looked back at him and smiled before lifting myself out of the dry tub. Taking his guitar and my notebook along, I followed him out into the master bedroom. A king-sized bed dressed in fluffy cloud-like comforter and sheets sat in the middle of the room. While Ryan climbed back under the turned-back bedspread, I set my song-writing apparati at the desk.

After sitting down on the bed, I felt the inside of my nose twitch and shiver and muttered, "Hold on," before sneezing into a tissue I grabbed. Settling into the heavenly comfort of the mattress, I griped wordlessly and pressed two fingers to my right eye. Ryan asked curiously what the hell I was doing.

"My eyelid always twitches when I sneeze," I explained in a low voice, feeling it shiver beneath my fingertips. "It's really annoying."

"Can I feel?" I turned onto my side and stared at Ryan with one open eye as his fingers touched the top of my eyelid. After a minute, he shook his head and said, "I don't feel anything." I moved his hand to rest on my cheekbone, careful not to swivel my eyes too much.

"Wow," he whispered, staring at his fingers. "That's crazy." We met each other's eye and I quickly removed my hand from his; he tucked his hand under his head.

"I have a question. Don't answer if you don't want to." I nodded. "What was wrong the other day? The second night in that hotel."

I smiled guiltily, remembering. "I had a dream about Brendon and I needed to scrub the image out of my brain," I half-lied. Ryan laughed. I smiled at him and stretched out on my back. "Goodnight, Ryan."

"Night, Ange."

~Brendon~
I yawned widely and rolled out of the bed. Only Jon and I were awake, I discovered walking into the main kitchen/ living room. After downing a glass of water, I travelled to the bathroom, remembering that Angie was sleeping there just after I pushed the door open. Only her makeshift bed lay empty.

Frowning, I made to return to the kitchen when my ears picked up a quiet noise from Ryan's room. I peeked my head in slowly and my jaw dropped. A wide grin overcame me, and I tiptoed away from the door.

"Jon, come here," I beckoned excitedly. "Get your camera. Spencer, wake up!" Both confused as hell-- and Spence a little peeved at getting woken up-- they followed me back to the master bedroom. When I silently pushed open the door, surprise painted their faces, soon joined by laughter.

"Holy shit," Jon reflected behind his hand.

Ryan and Angie were asleep in the bed, arms round each other. Like, the most intimate mode of sleep that no one's supposed to see. Angie's hair laid spread out on the pillow and her hand rested halfway in Ryan's hair. He had one arm around her waist and his forehead barely touched hers. It was quite possibly the funniest, sickeningly cute thing I'd ever seen.

"Dude, what the hell?" Spencer asked in a whisper. "When did this happen?"

"You think they hooked up?" I whispered conspiratorially.

"Of course," Jon answered, gesturing with his camera. "Just look at them." He grinned and snapped a picture; he moved closer and zoomed in on their faces right next to each other. "Go get Angie's camera," he whispered, grinning. "It'll be our little surprise for her."

Spencer retrieved Angie's camera from the kitchen table and took a picture. At the sound of the shutter, Ryan stirred and rolled over onto his back, making all of us freeze. After a second, Angie, still asleep from what I could tell, muttered something and shifted closer to him. I bit on my knuckle to keep from laughing. Jon and Spencer took a few more shots.

Ryan's eyes opened slowly and he strove to sit up. "What the fuck are you doing in here?" he asked mid yawn, eyes not really open.

Jon cracked up, which caused me and Spence to lose it. "Something you want to tell us, Ry?" Spencer asked laughing. Ryan rubbed his cheek and did a double take at the space next to him. He blinked a few times before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I never would have thought," I commented.

"I swear this is not what it looks like," Ryan muttered.

"That's what they always say."

"Stai farmo. Dormo," Angie mumbled audibly. I snickered along with the other fully awake members of our party.

"None of us speak Italian, Angie," Jon informed her.

Angie's eyes opened abruptly and she sat up, staring at all of us. She turned from me to Ryan beside her and covered her eyes with one hand. "Well, shit." We all laughed. "Before any of you open your mouths, know that no articles of clothing were removed in the making of this sleep." I smirked smugly at her and she gave me the evil eye. "Keep your mouth shut, Urie."

Jon's camera clicked again and Ryan got out of bed to make him get rid of the picture. The other three of us laughed as they ran around the suite. Angie yawned and stretched, making cute feminine noises. And then she eradicated it out by cracking her neck. Spencer laughed. "No wonder he got you into bed with him."

"Chiuda la scopata in su, Spencer," she ordered, continuing to crack joints. "And in case you're wondering that means shut the fuck up."

Ryan re-entered the room and sat down on the side of the bed. "So aside from waking up to these idiots," he said to Angie, "How'd you sleep?"

"Beautifully, thank you," she replied with a smile. "The best sleep I've ever slept." Then Angie left the room singing, "~You give me the most gorgeous sleep that I've ever had...~"

We watched her leave the room and looked at each other. "So," Spencer said, "You have to teach me whatever trick you did to make her cling like that." Ryan rolled his eyes and chucked a pillow at him.