If Only Until Morning

"Lower, please? And a little to the left... ah, that's it right there... damn, that feels good."

"Dunno why you didn't think of this earlier."

"Hush, I'll lose my concentration, and stop wiggling so much. I-- aaaah... Bastard."

The bus door swung open and at least half a dozen people toppled in. "What the fuck are you-- Oh," Gabe exclaimed, stopping in the middle. "...Well, you're no fun."

Lying the middle of the aisle on my stomach, I looked up at him curiously from my sketchbook, feeling Jesse's hands pause. "Can I help you?" I asked tersely, eyes roving over the boys currently infesting the bus.

William grinned at me. "Nope, we're good." Pause. "And so are you apparently." I shot him a glare.

"I'll still ask," Alex decided. "What the fuck are you two doing? Why are you on top of her?"

"Pen's back hurt from falling asleep on the table and then performing," Jesse explained, kneading the small of my back. "And then she got inspired to draw, and the best way to remedy both was for her to lie on the floor and me to give her a massage."

"That does not explain the strange sex noises and giggling we heard," Farro the Younger argued.

"Sure, it does," I countered simply, shading in the eyes. "Blatantly obvious yet clever sexual innuendos make me laugh-- and fuck you, I don't giggle-- and Jesse's somewhat of a miracle-worker."

"Good to know I'll have some usable skill if the band doesn't work out," Trill laughed, taking a pause to knock on something wooden.

The guys stared at us for another second or two before making themselves comfortable around us in the lounge. I continued sketching, detailing the background I'd imagined and ignoring the snickers every once in a while. Boyswill be boys are easily entertained, so I wasn't going to bother with thinking about it.
But it got hard not to ask when Jesse, still sitting on me, practically yelled, "Dude, don't even joke! She's like my sister!"

I arched an eyebrow and twisted around, eying everyone laughing. "Man, if your sister was that hot--" Zac began, but Jesse cut him off with a pillow to the face and an ominous, "Don't even insinuate about my sister."

Leaning on my fist, I kicked my feet back and forth in the air. "Now you wouldn't be implying illicit venereal exploits pertaining to the innocuous nature of Trill's and my relationship, would you?" I asked artlessly. In response I got several blank stares and a laugh from Matt, starting up the video games. I shut my sketchbook and shooed my guitarist off me. "Thought not."

I went into the bunkroom, tossed by sketchbook onto my bunk, and swallowed a shriek as I turned to find Alex standing right behind me. "Don't do that," I advised blandly, moving back a step. "You never when instinct is going to kick in. You could have lost an eye."

He grinned, leaning against the wall beside us. "Someone's feeling much better than the other day," he teased as I made to go around him.

I paused with a frown and stepped back in front of him. Odd. I could swear he was concerned. Or at least paying attention. "At the risk of having a heart-to-heart with the likes of you, I'll ignore that observation."

What? I can't be a helpless sweetheart all the time.

"You're just afraid you might actually find out what a great guy I am," he said, following me back into the lounge.

"Your humility, as always, blinds me, Gaskarth," I replied, dripping with sarcasm, as I tossed myself onto the couch next to Matt.

Alex took Matt's controller and joined the others in battle. "Apparently you make up for the weight you're losing with incessant sarcasm," Matt jibed with a roll of his eyes.

"At least I'm not the tour bicycle." After a moment of silence I smirked but smothered it when I noticed Matt was glowering at me.

"I don't like the implications that go along with that statement."

"What implications?" I asked, meeting his gaze confidently.

He arched a dark eyebrow at me. "You know, if you spent a little more time being open to new experiences and a little less time pitying yourself, you might actually find that you and Ali have things in common and tour doesn't have to be this huge melodrama."

I let out a short, harsh laugh and prodded his chest with a finger. "And if you'd stop thinking with your dick for a minute and open your eyes, you might see that you're being deceived."

"There you go again!" he exclaimed, poking me back rather firmly and gaining fervour with every word. "Being so fucking judgmental! And sexist! You ever think that maybe I like having a friend not involved in the business around?"

At this point, I think everyone was so used to us arguing about this that they merely tuned it out. I certainly would have. I placed my hands flat on his chest and pushed him away from me. "I'm being a sexist? Matt, your argument against my actions is that every female is a bitch at some point. Tell me how you're not a hypocrite."

Matt roughly shoved my hands away. "Angie, you're being irrational again."

"I'm being perfectly logical, asshole," I corrected sharply, swatting at his arms. He glared at me, and I glared right back with as much venom as I could muster. Which is about equivalent to a black mamba.

I don't know who struck first; all I know is one second we were shoving each other and the next we had wrestled each other to the floor, me walloping at him, him with a fistful of my hair.

And nobody noticed for a good five seconds. Bus full of people, all less than five feet away, none of them noticed.

Except you have to realise, when two people who average out at six feet are nearing a fist fight in the middle of a tiny space like a bus lounge, other people tend to get kicked when the aforementioned two people are flipping each other like pancakes.

I must have lost a few seconds, because the next thing I knew, I was struggling against Alex's and Bill's grips, opposite Matt, restrained by Jesse, Sean, and Gabe, and several people were yelling. I stopped instantly and ran my hands over my face.

"Jesus Christ," Nate said, staring between Matt and me as we sat safely away from each other. Everyone else seemed to share his opinion, all sitting staring at the two of us, video games forgotten, in a state of silent shock.

"That was possibly the scariest and hottest thing I've ever seen," Gabe observed in reverence. I stared at him expressionlessly until he looked away uncomfortably.

Matt hacked a cough and Sean gave him a sympathetic look. "See? I told ye teachin' 'er 'ow t'win a figh' was a bad idea."

"It was for self-defense!" Jesse defended when he noticed some of the other guys looking at them incredulously. I only rolled my eyes and settled back into the couch between Alex and Nate.

Matt shot me a spiteful look, rubbing his ribs; a bruise was growing on his left cheekbone. "You fight dirty. Like, dirty for a guy."

Heaving myself to my feet, I grumbled, "I'm going to go find Shawn. He might not cast doubt upon my femininity," and headed for the door.

As I walked away, I heard Gabe call, "Hey, don't forget, we're throwing a party later and think again if I'm letting you skip out!" I shook my head. Thanks, Saporta. Be my enabler.

~William~

I like parties. Parties are fun. Especially when there's alcohol. There's nothing better to get your mind off the hectic life on tour than getting a bunch of the guys together, grabbing a couple six-packs, and chilling out.

Only with this tour, things were different. Chilling out consisted more of fucking around, which certainly got us some good footage. A couple six-packs didn't even begin to cover it; in any direction there could be seen something to get you more fucked up, if that was your wish.

And it wasn't just a bunch of the guys; there were new friends, most of themunderage younger, though we overlooked that, and not all of them were guys. Hayley and Victoria weren't big on drinking, and Alison seemed happier hanging off Ryan's or Zac's arm, but Angie was all for it.

Speaking of which, I hadn't heard any rapier wit at the current antics. I looked away from the break-dancing competition and searched around for my favourite redhead. There was absolutely no sign of her. "Hey, anyone seen Penelope?" I asked loudly.

Those who heard me shrugged or shook their heads. I frowned, taking a swig from my bottle. How do you lose a six-foot redhead? "I have!" Barakat slurred excitedly, waving his arms-- one of which was holding a drink. "She went off that way!" He pointed enthusiastically and fell into laughter when Matt tackled him.

Finishing my drink, I swung my leather jacket onto my shoulder and followed in the direction Jack had pointed. True, he was shit-faced so his directional skills weren't up to snuff, but I'd burn that bridge when I came to it.

Luckily, I found Angie sitting, quite visible even in the dimmer light, on a picnic table looking up at the sky. As I grew closer, she pulled a large bottle out of nowhere and took a swig from it. "Drinking alone is for people who have no friends," I pointed out, stopping beside her, "Especially straight from the bottle."

"Drinkin' alone is also for antisocial people," she replied matter-of-factly, not removing her eyes from the blanket of stars above us. "Like me. An' I ran out o' cups."

I sat down on the table beside her and she finally glanced down, but only to offer me the bottle. I took it and looked at the label. "Where the hell'd you get this? This is legitimate booze right here."

"Well," Angie sighed, leaning back on her hands, "When I left the bus earlier, I did go see Shawn, but I took th'scenic route, an' I ran into Alex and his troupe going t'buy beer and whatnot for tonight and 'e asked me if I wanted anythin', so I gave 'im forty dollars and told 'im to get me somethin' to make me forget t'ings for a while." She shook her head slightly and slipped the bottle out of my hand. "Silly boyyo was goin' get me some ridiculous fruity thing."

I eyed her as she took another gulp and set it down gently. "This is where 'e disappeared to for a while," Pen continued, returning her eyes to the sky. "I think 'e's switched from trying to get into my pants to tryin' t'get into my head, which admittedly is better; 'e brought a six-pack with him on delivery and tried to get me to talk to 'im."

I smiled, amused by the concept, but turned seriously and followed her eyes up to the sky. "I'm sorta worried about you," I admitted after a long pause.

Angie laughed weakly. "You should be," she said softly.

After another pause, I looked down at her, seeing her smiling sadly into the dark. Her eyes flickered over to me and, after another sip from the bottle, she twisted the lid on and laid back on the table. "Pete told me you... weren't feeling well."

"Understatement of a lifetime, Becks. Incidentally, I'll have tm'aim 'im for breaking his implied promise."

"It's amazing how coherent you are after a six-pack and a quarter-bottle of straight bourbon," I observed, changing the subject as I noticed the crushed cans all neatly lined up in a row.

"If it were Potcheen like I'd asked, you'd'a found me passed out atop this table rather than only drunk an d'pressed," she pointed out dryly.

"I like the accent."

"'S a habit. I can do lots of 'em."

I looked up for a while and back down at her. "What's not worth it?" I asked, skipping the introductory awkwardness and getting down to brass tacks.

Her lips twisted as her face seemed to glow in the dark. "To frame it a bit, I've been an undiagnosed headcase since I was 'bout thirteen," Angie said, pillowing her head with an arm. "But that's all dead boring, so I won't bother."

"But I want--"

"Hush, William, I'm on a drunken rant," she cut in promptly. I chuckled and zipped my lips. Pen sat up and leaned her head heavily on my shoulder. "Or not. I just don't like it, sugar. Not one bit." She paused. "I don't see why I should have to take it, all her bullshit and breeding maggoty lies in the brains of the people I love most."

I laughed in spite of myself. "A good image, people with maggots crawling under their skin." Penelope giggled, removing her head from my shoulder to shake it. "But if it really bothers you, you should do something about it."

"Like I have been doing?" she suggested, raising an eyebrow at me. "I was diplomatic about it to begin with, but I stop playing nice when the past starts to repeat itself." Before I could ask for elaboration, Angie slid off the table and put out her arms to balance herself. I rose to my feet and steadied her with a hand. With an amorous smile, she pulled my arm around her and wrapped her own around my waist. "Do me the pleasure of accompanying me to my bus, dearest William?"

"Seeing as your chances of making it there are drastically diminished," I said as she leaned back to grab the bottle, "I would be a fool not to, Princess."

Angie tossed me a glare and heaved a dramatic sigh. "Why do you call me that? You've called me that since you met me." Her leg wobbled and I quickly caught her as she fell into me, laughing quietly at herself.

"I don't know," I admitted, helping her along, "I didn't really have a reason then, except that Matt always talked about you like you meant the world to him. And now you're sort of like the queen of the tour. Plus it's our thing, you know? I call you Princess, you hate it, but you love me anyway." I paused, coming up with a counter-question. "Why do you call me Lamppost?"

She snickered. "Because you are a lamp post, Bill."

"Well, you're a princess, Ange."

The sentimental glaze to her expression dissipated as she scoffed. "I'm not the queen or princess or duchess of anything, sugar," she corrected, smirking up at me. "But that's okay. I'm used to playing second fiddle." She shrugged and unhinged herself from my side as we stopped beside her bus.

Angie smiled at me silently, standing on the first step in the door. After a moment, she kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to my lips. "You are a phenomenal man, William," she said. "But don't worry yourself over the likes of me. There are more important things."

With that, she turned and disappeared into the depths of her tour bus. I wandered slowly back to where everyone was, thinking to myself. Several of the guys called my name, announcing my return. I looked around and headed to a small circle hanging out near a cooler.

I pointed at Ryan, the rest of the group falling somewhat silent. "You," I declared seriously, "Are the biggest idiot I've ever met." He blinked, offended, and tried to puzzle out what I was talking about. "I shouldn't have to do your job for you, Ry, and I don't care what your excuse is. You're being a huge jackass in ignoring... that."

The others looked more than slightly confused, while Ryan seemed to have taken the hint, but I didn't say any more about it. I just grabbed another beer and tried to make the best of the night.