Whoever She Is

"You guys better have everything packed, this our last night here and if you forget anything important I'm not paying for it this time!" Matt yelled into the tour bus at no-one in particular, simply hoping his boys all heard him and paid attention for once.

As it turned out, someone was listening, thank God.

Alex called out from somewhere in the bus, probably still in the bunks where he and Jack were leaping from one bed to another like monkeys just like they had been for the past forty-five minutes.

"Yeah, don't worry, Mom, everything essential is packed."

"By 'essential', you mean beer, don't you?" Matt sighed, feeling more than too tired to be keeping track of four twenty-year-old kids and their necessities for a tour around America.

They were currently in Baltimore, after having spent a day rounding everyone up to leave. They had spent the past few hours switching between spending time on the beach and buying spare supplies. They had also all drank beer the entire time and Jack and Alex had been, unhelpfully, throwing themselves around the tour bus. And ignoring Matt's pleas to get ready to go. That part especially.

"Of course beer, we don't need anything else when we have beer!" Alex yelled, swinging down from one of the top bunks playfully.

He was topless, but with a long-sleeved shirt tied around his neck like a cape, and a pair of long swimming trunks.

"...Why are you wearing my swim shorts?" Matt asked, staring at the red shorts patterned with Mickey Mouse and Pluto figures.

"I ran out of underwear," Alex said breezily, sipping his can of Stella Artois.

"Y--... you're using my Mickey shorts as underwear?! How can you be out of boxers already, anyway?! The tour's not even started yet!"

"I know, I know, I didn't want to dirty any of the ones I have packed yet. I'm not intending to shower for a while. Saving water, saving the environment, all that," Alex rambled drunkenly.

"But you're using them as underwear!" Matt exclaimed, still in slight shock.

"Well it's too hot for jeans and I'm not wasted enough to get my birthday suit out. Plus, I thought this might be funny..." Alex giggled, pulling the Mickey doll that Matt took to bed each night from inside the shorts.

/////

Fifteen minutes later and Alex was hiding out on the roof of the bus where Matt could neither see or reach him, at least for now. Rian had climbed up to join him.

"You know you're gonna have to come down eventually, right?" the drummer reasoned.

"Yeah."

"And you know he's gonna beat the shit out of you when you do, right?"

"Now, Rian," Alex laughed heartily. "Let's not get crazy here. Flyzik beat me?! Where is he, anyway?"

"Trying to track down Vinny and make sure our cases are packed. And by 'our', I mean yours and Jack's. But killing you for molesting Mickey is pretty high on his list of priorities too."

"Right. Well. He'll have forgotten about it by later anyway..."

"He's been really stressed out lately, Alex. Maybe you could give him a break."

"But he always puts up with us. I was just having some fun," the singer pouted.

"I know but I'm worried about him. He hasn't been sleeping. Just go easy on the practical jokes for a while, alright?"

Alex sighed, knowing Rian was right. Matt had been looking a bit worse for wear just recently.

"Yeah, I'll make it up to him later. I'll buy him a Minnie doll so that old Mick doesn't get lonesome on tour," he smiled, and hopped down off the bus roof to find his tour manager.

/////

Alex finally located Matt ten minutes later, making sure all the instruments were written down and packed up. Alex walked over, clutching Mickey with both hands round his waist. Matt stayed uncharacteristically calm, and didn't glance away from his note-taking.

"Um, Flyzik?" Alex began. "I'm sorry about... a lot of things. I didn't mean to give you a hard time these past few days. I'm just excited about tour."

"And drunk," Matt added, still not looking up.

"And drunk," agreed Alex. "Anyway, I cleaned your Mickey. He smells all lemony, see?" Alex waved the toy eagerly next to Matt's face. He had doused it with citrus fabric cleaner until it was the J. Matthew Flyzik standard of hygienic.

"You're still wearing the shorts," Matt said bluntly.

"Oh picky, picky. I'll wash them later. In fact, here, you can have them back right now," said Alex, grabbing the waistband and pushing the swim trunks down to his shins.

Matt shielded his eyes. "On second thought, you can wear them for now. But you better have your cases properly packed. I am not under any circumstances loaning you my boxers again. Same goes for Jack. That black pair I gave him were never the same again."

"Does this mean I'm forgiven now that you're being a bossy dick again?" Alex asked with a grin, pulling the shorts back up around his hips.

"I guess so," sighed Matt, but he was smiling too. "Come here, Asskarth."

He pulled the singer into a tight hug, and they hung on for a while, Mickey getting squashed between them. As annoying as the band could be, Matt couldn't deny that he'd never get by without them.

/////

"Where the fuck is he?! I'm going to have his dick on a fucking platter if he doesn't turn up soon," Matt fumed.

He was stressing once again trying to get everyone on the bus. They were driving to Virginia, which was almost five hours away, and they had to leave in exactly thirteen minutes if they were to meet the support band there in time. However, by the way things were going, they were probably going to get there never. After Alex and Matt had hugged it out, the singer had helped to pack up, and the rest of the band sprung into action. The inside of the tour bus was cleaned vigorously by Rian and Danny, who had sobered up considerably after they found Jack threatening to do a front-flip off the bus roof. Alex and Matt double-checked everything was packed, and Zack had a special mission to locate Jack who had disappeared after his acrobatics-based quest. Matt was effectively run-down now that it was two hours later and the guitarist was still lost. They had to leave really soon.

"I seriously cannot find him anywhere," Zack sighed, after having made four trips around the general area and still saw no sign of him.

"I can't think where he'd be either. Where the fuck has he gone?" Alex grumbled, growing impatient about getting out on the road.

"I'm going to check the beach again, he's probably terrorising evening dog-walkers."

"Don't say that," Matt groaned. "Last time he was left drunk and alone, I had to talk the police out of arresting him for public indecency."

Zack and Alex both set out in different directions across the car park, and over the sand dunes. Matt stayed put, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. He let out another sigh from pure habit. He had been doing that a lot over the past forty-eight hours.

"Still looking for the lunatic minority?" Rian chuckled as he made his way over from the bus. "He's gonna turn up, don't worry about him."

"I'm not worried about the douchebag, I'm worried about staying on schedule! We're meant to leave, like... now, and we're not even stocked up on food yet."

"Well... Alex did go shopping earlier," Rian offered.

"Yeah, and he was wasted."

"But he bought beer and razors. And a lot of ice-cream and barbecue sauce. And a cucumber."

"Oh great, a night with the drunken idiots vomiting up some weird concoction they made with the food and thought would be a good idea to scarf down, and the possibility of me slitting my wrists. Not to mention Jack sticking his dick in the only nourishing meal we have once he convinces Alex to hollow out the cucumber."

"That's only if he shows up," Rian smiled, trying to joke with his tour manager.

Matt didn't react, and they simply stood in silence for a few more minutes until his phone started to buzz with an incoming call. It was Alex.

"I've got him! He's semi-conscious at the bottom of one of the sand dunes," he was laughing. "Send Zack over, someone's gonna have to carry him and I can't get up the dune with him over my shoulder."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's the reason. You have the arms of a six-year-old girl, weakling," smirked Matt, turning to Rian. "Call up Superman Merrick on your phone and tell him to find Alex on the beach."

Zack had suddenly appeared behind them after he had decided Jack was nowhere to be found on his side of the beach. Having heard the conversation on approach, he leaned over Matt's phone, calling down to Alex.

"I'm on my way."

/////

"Okay! Everything is finally ready to go," Rian said with a cheer as he strode over to Matt who was anxiously waiting for the return of the rest of the band.

"Where are they? It's been thirty minutes and they're not back yet, where are they?" Matt muttered, pacing back and forth, clearly agitated. Rian looked on, amused. "I mean, what if... what if..."

"What if they appeared safely carrying a half-naked but conscious drunk?" Zack grinned as he and Alex walked up behind them, a little sand-coated but otherwise in one piece.

Zack was indeed carrying the missing guitarist, his strong arms looped under Jack's shoulders and the backs of his knees. His head lolled wildly from side-to-side, a giddy smile lighting his face.

"Oh thank God. What took so long? Why aren't you carrying him over your shoulder? How drunk is he?" Matt waved his arms and showered them with questions.

"He had lost both shoes and his jeans in the sand, and then he practically had a meltdown when Zack put him over his shoulder. Some people with kids were staring at us like they thought we were gonna butt-rape him," Alex sighed and wiped sweat from his forehead.

"Well, you would butt-rape him," Rian grinned.

"Fuck off, Dawson."

"Guys, quit it. Zack, seriously, how much has he had to drink?" Matt cut in.

"We're carrying him, asshole, how drunk do you think he is?" Alex snapped before Zack could answer.

The bassist cleared his throat, still clutching Jack who had now wrapped his arms around the other boy's neck and was staring at him lovingly.

"Ahem, we carried him?"

"Right, whatever, you carried him, Mr. Muscle," Alex muttered.

"Great, okay, shut up. You've all been a good help, in the end," Matt rushed. "Now, let's get going!"

Rian cheered and grabbed Alex, pulling him by the wrist towards the bus excitedly where the crew were clapping and opening the door. Zack smiled and shook his head, looking down at Jack and muttering a, "Come on," before switching the position he was carrying him in so that the guitarist was sitting on his hip, his arms and legs curled around Zack's body like a baby. He started towards the bus, Matt following and sighing again, but this time contentedly.

Finally, it was time to jump-start this tour.

/////

Six hours, a long nap and a hangover later, Jack was able to walk on his own two feet, although he preferred staying on the sofa in the back lounge with Home Alone cranked up full volume, much to the other boys' annoyance.

"Jack! Turn that shit down!" Matt threatened rather than warned from the front of the bus.

"It's not shit!" Jack protested, his voice wavering. Possibly from post-alcohol symptoms, possibly because of his weird maternal feelings for that god damn movie.

Matt sighed and went back to his task -- discussing hotel arrangements over the phone with the The Maine's tour manager, who was travelling in their own bus behind All Time Low. Things hadn't exactly went to plan. They were meant to meet the support act when they arrived in their state however, it turned out they were all still hungover from a party the previous night, so they decided to just keep driving straight to the first venue in Philly and get acquainted there.

Hotel bookings complete, Matt hung up the phone and sighed, staring into space.

The Maine consisted of Garrett Nickelsen, Kennedy Brock, Pat Kirch, Jared Monaco, John O'Callaghan and their tour manager Max Sisson, not to mention the rest of the crew. Max had told Matt over the phone that they had an additional member for this tour -- Pat's cousin was a photographer who was going to be taking live pictures of them for a folio, and probably some of All Time Low too, documenting their entire tour.

"Hey, Flyzik, when are we getting a rest-stop?" Alex whined as he wandered into the room.

"As soon as possible."

"And when's that?"

"Maybe another hour."

Alex made another childish whine in the back of his throat.

"Don't be a baby!" Matt snapped, shaking his head. "Go and watch Home Alone with Jack."

"But I've already seen it three times this week! He made me watch it."

"Then you'll really be up to speed because you've missed the beginning. Go."

"I don't wanna," said Alex, crossing his arms.

"You're just pissing me off, Alex, go and sit in the back lounge before I tip all the beer out the window."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" Matt said, eyebrows raised.

Alex sigh huffily and stomped through to watch the movie with his boyfriend, leaving Matt to curl up on the chair he was sitting in, deciding a nap to pass the time would be the best option.

/////

Finally arriving in Philadelphia was like hitting a milestone in Matt's mind. He had made it there without murdering Alex or throwing away any of his precious alcohol.

They got off the bus and practically danced into the hotel down the street from the venue, where The Maine were waiting to meet them. Matt and the others stepped inside the gleaming hotel, over to the front desk to get room keys. Max Sisson and his band were sitting on the squashy sofas in the corner, and the second they registered All Time Low had walked in, they leapt up excitedly, chattering and shaking hands and introducing themselves, and what they did in the band/crew.

"...and Garrett does bass guitar, Pat's on drums... and I think that's it," Max finished, nodding his head firmly.

"Great! Well, it's awesome to meet all of you, really, it is. This tour's gonna be good," Matt grinned.

Both bands started to shuffle around, grabbing suitcases and getting into their pairs for who was sharing rooms and chatting quietly amongst themselves. Matt was still at the desk, the last one to get his door key. Max hung back to talk to him, asking how the trip had went.

"Oh, it was alright. I was ready to kill Alex and Jack, but they'll settle down for a while now that we're on the road."

"Haha, by 'a while', I assume you mean for tonight only?" Max chuckled.

"Oh, yeah, they'll be balls of energy by tomorrow morning, and the cycle of me resisting the urge to throw them into a busy road will resume."

Max laughed loudly, patting the other manager's arm.

"So," Matt said as the receptionist handed him his key. "Where's this photographer you were telling me about? Pretty sure I didn't see him."

"Oh, it's not a him. In fact, that's her over there," Max nodded towards a dark-haired girl who was stepping out of the elevator that just opened across the room.

Matt stared as they walked over, trying to be subtle as they joined her at the elevator. She was average height, hair the same colour as Matt's tumbling down curves almost to her waist, with the ends dip-dyed a quirky dark teal colour. Her brown eyes were outlined with thick black lashes but Matt looked away quickly in fear that she'd catch him.

"Hey, Max, just came down to let you know I am not rooming with Pat if he's still hungover. He puked on my shorts last night," the girl said with distaste.

"Don't worry, I'll share a room with you. John can deal with Pat's over-active stomach," Max said, shaking his head. "Oh, Matt, this is Kimberley."

Matt stuck his hand out for her to shake and she took it up immediately. "You can call me Kimmi," she smiled.

"Oh yeah, call her Kimmi. I always forget about that," Max chuckled to himself.

Matt slowed the hand-shaking, smiling back and tonguing his lip ring. "Hi, Kimmi."

And so it began.