Collision

Later, I got the grand tour of the bus, thanks to Chantel, who seemed determined to make sure I knew every single nook and cranny — including the storage bins on the outside, which meant venturing out in the cold. It wasn’t too pleased about that, but when I stepped outside and caught site of Finley walking towards the bus I grinned, running forward to meet him.

“Fin!” I exclaimed happily, hugging him.

“Cam! This place is amazing! And we have a bus! Well, we’re sharing with this other band, called Antagonism Enmity, but they’re all really cool. Have you met any of the bands yet?”

“No, why?” I asked.

“Some of them are pretty awesome. Combatant’s drummer is a dick though, so watch out for him,” he said. He pointed at Chantel, who had come up beside me. “Who’s this?” I introduced her to Fin and laughed when she hugged him back when he hugged her. Normally people got a bit freaked out by his affectionate greetings but she seemed to be pretty comfortable.

We wandered around for a while, trying not to get in the way of the people who apparently had jobs to do. I knew that I would be given my duties by Mallory later, so for now I decided I should introduce myself to the new situation by exploring, and both Chantel and Finley agreed. Later, we were joined by Alex and Red, and another crew member Chantel knew from another tour called Isaac. Then the six of us found a nice area, away from the rest of the people so we weren’t annoying them, and sat down on the ground in a circle on a blanket Chantel had procured — I think she might have stolen it off a bunk. I was watching the tents being put up, ready for the show tomorrow, and I getting filled in on the different acts and other essential information by Isaac (who had an obsession with using interjections when he spoke). And, of course, slowly freezing to death a little bit, even under two of my thickest hoodies.

“So, you see that over there?” He asked, pointing to another fenced off area to the side of the one we were in. I nodded. “That’s for, like, tents and stuff. People pay the landowner to camp there. And that structure being put up at the moment? That’s the main stage. Yeah, and the headling act tomorrow, the first day, is Combatant, and then the day after that it’s My Chem.”

“That’s cool,” I said with a nod. I’d started shivering now, so I decided to put Finley to use, and nudged him with my foot. “Warm me up!” I demanded. He sighed and scooted closer, draping his arms around my body. I laughed, happily, snuggling into the warmth of his open hoodie. He was like a hot water bottle most of the time — I think it was all his energy trying to escape as heat or something. Actually, that was a pretty good explanation... and my biology teacher said I didn’t listen in classes!

Isaac looked slightly pained at my response. “Well, yeah, cool, sure... but then we have to take everything back down again and drive on to... Chantel, where are we going next?” He turned to look at the girl, who was in deep conversation with Red.

She glanced up. “I think it’s Edinburgh,” she replied, before turning back to Red to continue their heated discussion on which bass guitar really was the best.

“Oh, right, yeah.” Isaac grinned. “Our bus, right? It doesn’t even have a shower. Ugh. And there’s, like, eight of us altogether. No fucking kidding!”

“Neither does ours,” Chantel added.

“Hold on a minute, how are we meant to shower then?” I asked, confused at this revelation, looking between them both. They both laughed.

“You don’t. Or, you like, sell your soul to one of the bigger band’s drivers and they let you use the shower on-board whilst they’re out. And last year, when it was summer a group of people plus Chantel and I broke out the hosepipe,” Isaac said, shaking his head and still laughing. “Or you could always go skinny-dipping a lake.”

Chantel looked amused at my horrified expression. “Don’t listen to him, he’s being a douchebag. It’s not really that bad. Usually there’s showering at the stops and sometimes we stop at hotels,” she explained. “Although, that is a treat, and we mostly end up having to pay. But he is right in one aspect — you better start getting chummy with a band’s bus driver if you want a regular shower.”

I tried not to show how much that information being revealed freaked me out. Perhaps being a borderline mysophobe really wasn’t the best idea if I was going to tour with my sister’s band. I wish God had thought of that earlier when he’d designed me.

“And, it’s the same with looking good, too. You sort of forget about. Chantel, here, she looks pretty hot now, right? In two weeks, she’s more like... Shrek,” Isaac said. He dodged Chantel’s hit for this, but fell over backwards in the process — which sent everyone into a fit of the giggles. “Aww, c’mon Shanty, you know it’s true,” he teased, scrambling up to his feet and brushing the snow off his baggy jeans. “But anyway, guys, I have work to do, so I must be away! It was nice meeting you all!”

“Good riddance!” Chantel shouted at his retreating back, but he just laughed. She turned to us, shaking her head. “God, Isaac is cool and all, but he’s annoying sometimes.”

“I hope he was joking,” Alex said. “I need to look good!”

Chantel snorted. “He was, don’t worry. Us girls, we have some tricks. For hair, talcum powder is awesome. And crushed ice in a towel or something similar is great for bags under your eyes. Oh, and baby wipes and moisturiser/sunscreen combination things? A touring girl’s best friends.”

The pair of them launched into a rather involved discussion about make-up and looking good, Chantel giving Alex even more tips, whilst the boys and I tried not to roll our eyes. Instead, I focused on making maximum use of Finley as a hot water bottle by taking a hoodie off and draping it around us both. That made it actually quite comfortable, and I longer felt like my fingers were about to drop off from the cold. I’m pretty sure it looked kind of strange from the other’s point of views, and Red gave us both a weird look — but he should have been used to it by now; we often ended up snuggling together. Finley was like a really useful younger brother or something.

“So you found out when you’re performing?” I asked Red, and Alex, who’s attention was drawn by the word ’performing’.

Red smiled slightly. “Apparently we get the midday slot on the third stage. So it’s not gonna be that many crowds. Should be good for Alex — she’s freaking out about singing in front of loads of people and what could go wrong.”

“I am not!” She said, rather snappishly, although I knew, even without Red telling me, that she would be anyway. “I’m just... considering what could happen.”

“Spending an hour desperately researching whether falling off a stage could cause lasting brain damage is not just ’considering what could happen’, Alex. It’s plain neurotic,” Red said in a rather condescending tone.

“Aww, but she’s my neurotic baby sister,” I said, reaching out and arm and wrapping it around her. She pulled away, glaring at us both.

“You guys suck.”

I giggled, nodding and brushing my hair out of my eyes. “And yet, you love us anyway.”

She opened her mouth, about to respond, when her eyes darted to a point over my shoulder, and widened. I glanced behind me and saw Gerard walking towards us, talking to a pale girl with choppy hair in vivid orange colour. As she got closer I could see she had her lip pierced twice, and that there were streaks of red in and yellow in her hair too. It was a certain look, that’s for sure.

I waved at them. “Hello! Come to join our little gathering?” I asked, as they both stopped.

Gerard looked amused. “Why the hell are you guys all sitting out here? I’m sure there’s more comfortable meeting places.”

“Don’t blame me, Chantel choose it,” I said, pointing at the black and blonde haired girl. She grinned brightly. Then I turned my gaze to the flame haired girl standing next to Gerard. “Who’s this?”

Alex hit my arm. “That’s Liza York!” She said under her breath, in almost a hiss. I gave her a blank look. She sighed, as if to her the fact that this girl was called Liza York was common knowledge. “Oh my god, you’re helpless! Hello, Irony’s lead singer? Elizabeth York? She’s a musical genius!”

“Oh! I remember. Hey, you’re the girl with the kittens called Cobain and Jagger, right?” I asked, recalling an artice I’d read in a music magazine. Liza nodded and laughed, brightly.

“That’s me! I must I don’t often get people call me ’the girl with the kittens called Cobain and Jagger’, though. I also have a puppy called Axl Rose,” she replied, with a strong English accent which surprised me. I don’t know why, but I’d assumed that Hello, Irony were all American since they all, to my knowledge (which was enough from Alex’s many long gushes about them), lived there.

They both walked over, and we all shifted around so there was just enough room for two people to squeeze in. Liza sat down next to Alex, who looked as if she was about to die from happiness (judging from the huge grin) and Gerard knelt down next to Finley. I kept snuggling up to Finley and only twisted around to I could talk to Gerard.

“So, why are you out strolling with Hello, Irony’s lead singer?” I asked him, curiously. He shrugged.

“She’s an old friend. Boxer, their drummer? He lived about two blocks away from where I grew up. And Liza lives in Belleville too now.”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool. New Jersey?”

“Yeah. She’s nice, and I think Alex has taken a shine to her,” he said, nodding at the two of them. Alex was talking at a speed of about five hundred miles per hour, and whilst Liza looked quite taken aback, she was nodding and smiling along nonetheless.

“As long as she’s happy,” I replied, trying not to grin at the sight. “You checked out your bus yet?”

He nodded again, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear. “Of course! It’s pretty swanky,” he said. “We have this really nice TV there, right? So the first thing Frank does when he sees it is dive onto the sofa, grab the remote... and put it on this ridiculous kid’s show. I’m not kidding. I wanted a DVD or something, but nope, Frank’s learning to count to ten today!”

“Well, at least he’s getting an education?” I offered, giggling. “Is that why you decided to go out for a walk in the freezing cold?”

“Basically. Why, is your bus so bad you guys decided to go sit out in the freezing cold?”

“Like I said, blame Chantel! Plus, I have Fin here to keep me warm.” I grinned and reached out a hand to pat Fin on the head. “And who’s he to complain? He’s got a girl draped over him.”

Finley snorted, looking down at me. “That’s practically incest, y’know. You’re like a sister to me, Cam.”

I winked, grinning mischievously. “That’s what you’re saying now. Wait until I break out the whips.”

Gerard let out a strangled sound, which made both Finley and I look at him. “What... did you just say?” He asked, after clearing his throat. I raised an eyebrow, checking out the new colour to his cheeks. Was that the cold, or was he actually blushing?

“You okay there, Gee?” I asked, concerned. “You’re looking pretty flushed.”

He nodded quickly, shifting to sit down properly. “Uh, just great. When did you start calling me Gee?”

I shrugged, indifferent. “I don’t know. When did you start calling me Cam?”

“Good point,” he said, seemingly recovered from a few seconds ago because he grinned.

Fin laughed loudly. I turned my head up to look at him quizzically, wondering what was so funny. “I just realized we all have three letter nicknames!” He said happily. “Fin, Cam, and Gee. Liza is easy, just take the ’a’ off and make it Liz. Red is obviously three letters already... and Alex can be Aly — oh, wait, Chantel! What’s a nickname for Chantel?”

“Tel?” I suggested. “Or Ant?” I giggled.

He frowned at me. “Those are terrible suggestions. How about Sha?”

“I’ll just be the odd one out, thanks,” Chantel said. “Because I am not being known as Sha, Tel or Ant for the rest of this tour.”

A few seconds passed, and then, suddenly, everyone grinned. “Alright then Ant!” I said, moving about to get more comfortable since Finley’s hipbone was sticking into my side. Damn him and being skinny. Alex was the same way; a great sister, sure, but terrible for cuddling — she was all legs, arms, and pointy elbows.

Speaking of Alex, she was shaking her head at my teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t call you Ant. I prefer Sha anyway,” she said, sticking her tongue out in her normal immature fashion. I’d started something now, probably. Poor Chantel.

“Guys, don’t be so mean to Tel here. It’s not her fault you guys suck at coming up with nicknames,” Red added with a laugh.

“Uhm, I hate to ruin the joke here, but did any of you think of, you know, El? You could even make it three letters by pretending there’s an extra ’l’... heck, make it Eli,” Liza said, looking at us as if we were all a bit crazy. Gerard nodded in agreement, and then I started laughing at how relieved Chantel looked.

“Thank you so much,” she exclaimed. “I’d rather be Eli than ’Ant’. Seriously, Cam, not cool.”

“I’m plently cool. I mean, it’s cold out here, after all,” I said. “Speaking of that, which genius’s idea was it to hold an outdoor festival in April?

“I think it’s meant to be ironic or something,” Chantel replied.

“Do you even know what ironic means?” I asked. “This isn’t ironic, it’s insane.”

“You’re the one who agreed to come on it,” Alex said, rolling her eyes in her normal derisive fashion.

“Yeah, I distinctly remember you begging me, actually Alex. Something about missing me.” I giggled.

“But not for much longer, because my aim is getting better,” she replied with a sniff.

“Did you... just quote one of your own songs?” I asked incredulously.

Finley laughed. “Oh my god, she did and all! That’s from ‘You’re Goin’ Down!” Then, clutching his chest in an over-dramatic fashion, he proceeded to launch into a rather good rendition of the song — there was a reason he did the backing vocals in their band. Despite Alex’s stormy expression, she couldn’t help but giggle slightly at his dramatics, and then everybody was laughing. I started coughing I was laughing so hard, earning myself a thump on the back from Red and a concerned look from Finley. I managed to choke out I was okay, though.

Eventually, though, when we’d all calmed down, I suggested gently that we should go inside, because even Finley’s warmth wasn’t helping much now. And Red nodded, adding that his ‘butt was frozen solid’ — evoking much giggles from Liza, Alex and I — and we all got to our feet and I helped Chantel shake the blanket off and roll it up.

Unfortunately, Chantel apparently had work to do, so she waved goodbye and walked off. I wasn’t so sure this was the truth, though, because I saw her zero o Isaac in the distance, and I was pretty sure the grin on her face did not bode well. Then Red said Alex and Finley and him should be practising.

I wrinkled my nose up. “Please, proper rock bands don’t practice. You know what they do? Get totally wasted — not that I’m endorsing that, Alex — and then mumble something into the mike whilst smashing guitars. It’s not that hard.”

“No, that’s what overrated rock bands do. Ones who actually have to work, like us, spend about five hours perfecting a performance. Now, come on Finley... oh, Alex, leave Liza alone already,” Red yelled. After much grumbling, Alex and Finley eventually say their goodbyes too, and they walked off in a little huddle. Which left Liza, Gerard and I. I turned to the flame-haired girl.

“Please don’t leave me, too!” I begged. “I don’t want to be left alone with Gee!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with me?” Gerard asked, looking slightly offended.

“Nothing, just, girls are more fun to hang out with,” I said, shrugging. “I mean, talking about make-up and clothes and stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”

He snickered. “Liza isn’t your girl for that. If anything, I’m the best one out of us two.”

“Oh really?” I replied, arching an eyebrow. “Okay, then, you two — what’s the best waterproof eyeliner to use?”

He didn’t even pause. “I used to use Dior, in this weirdly named black colour, except it was impossible to get off without using a makeup wipe. So I’d say Max Factor, those are pretty good.” He nodded, confident with his assessment.

Liza looked confused. “Wait, there’s more than one type of eyeliner?” She asked. I think she was joking, although she did a good job of seeming serious about it.

“Well fuck. I guess you were right, Gee,” I admitted. “You should probably worry about how feminine that makes you.”

He waved a hand vaguely. “Hell no. Eyeliner is manly, dammit.”

“Yeah, it’s his use of lipstick you should be worried about,” Liza said, nodding in agreement.

“Wait, wait, wait, you wear lipstick?” I demanded, turning to Gerard.

He frowned. “The stagelights can wash the natural colour out,” he said in defence. Then he glared at Liza. “And anyway, it was only once!”

I gave him a look. “I hope you just realize that, girlfriend or not, you’re officially gay to me now.”

“And you don’t even know about the times he snogged Frank, do you?” Liza crowed triumphantly, apparently pleased she’d managed to embarrass Gerard and shock me.

My eyes widened. “What?!”

~*~

Somewhere between walking back from our remote gathering spot and towards the collection of buses again, Mallory found me. He caught hold of my arm, pulled me aside, gave me a few slip of paper, and explained they had all the duties I was expected to perform — and the address and instructions for accessing the blog they’d set up for me. Apparently, it hadn’t taken much to convince the higher ups to go along with the idea, and they’d even given me a prime spot on the Whiteout website’s front-page as an advertisement. All I knew it that it meant I actually had to do work now, which made me sad — and when I told Gerard and Liza this, after I’d rejoined them, they both laughed.

“Welcome to the world of touring,” Gerard said, patting me on the back.

“Well it’s all very well for you two, all you have to do is like, sound check, and then go on stage a couple of times. I bet you spend the rest of the time getting trashed and partying.”

Liza laughed harder. “Not Gerard, he’s too boring for that. And he doesn’t drink. Anyway, I spend some of my time writing lyrics, too! I have to maintain my awesome rockstar lifestyle somehow.”

“You don’t drink?” I asked Gerard, ignoring the other part of the conversation. I suddenly remembered the times he’d refused the drinks which had been going around, even though I’d not thought much of it at the time. Woah, how had I not noticed that before?

He shrugged, fiddling with a stray thread hanging off the end of his jacket’s sleeve. “I don’t, no,” he replied.

“Any reason?” I was curious now.

“Uhm, yeah. Old things. It’s not really important,” he said. He didn’t seem very willing to talk about it, so I decided to drop it.

Liza, however, didn’t. She giggled. “It’s because he can’t handle his liquor well. He got a bit... dependant on it at one point, if you know what I mean.”

“Liza!” He said, apparently angry at her now. She gave him an innocent look.

“What? It’s true. It’s not like it’s a secret of anything, anyway,” she defended. “God, you’re so testy sometimes.”

“Yeah, but still,” he said, glaring at her now. “That was kind of something I should share myself, don’t you think?”

Liza frowned. “Well, I guess that’s my cue to leave,” she said. She smiled in my direction. “It was nice meeting you too, Cam. Even if you had no clue who I was at first — such a blow to my ego, I’m telling you!”

I waved her off, and then turned back to Gerard. Suddenly, without everyone else there, I realized just how awkward it was. I cleared my throat. “So, er, what do you want to do?” I asked. “Because I really need to start thinking about that blog thingy,” I added, lifting up my hand to show the papers I was holding.

“I could help you,” he offered. “Hey, you can come back to our bus and use my laptop if you want.”

“I have my own one!” I said, slightly offended. “I’m not that poor.”

“I didn’t mean it in that way...” he trailed off, looking slightly bemused. But soon the grin was back. “However, we have wifi. And cookies.”

“Well, then. If that’s the case... I guess I have to accept.”

He motioned that I should follow him as he walked to a bus which, when we got closer, made me stop and stare. It was huge a double decker and was the first time I’d seen a nice band bus up close and boy did it blow our crew one out of the water. It was silver and everything gleamed — even the hub caps.

The inside was even more stunning. Everything was in black or white, and instead of the weird, frayed 70’s style patterned seat covers in our bus the seats were all made out of black fabric which looked extremely soft — something I confirmed by throwing myself down on them and laying my cheek against it. I could have stayed there all day, except Gerard was giving me weird looks and I’m sure I looked crazy to him at the moment.

“Wow, this is nice!”

He looked around, then shrugged. “It’s pretty good. An improvement on the shitty vans we first toured in.”

“Are you kidding?” I asked incredulously, smoothing my hair back down. “This bus is... it’s amazing! Have you looked at it, properly?”

He laughed. “Okay, you sit there and drool over the bus, I’ll go grab my laptop.”

I laughed too, deciding that perhaps I was overreacting a bit. But that was before I saw the swanky looking TV bolted in the sideboard, and squealed. I heard him sigh at that, but I was too busy jumping to my feet and running over to inspect it. Then the DVD cabinet, which already had a stack of movies in it — there were even a few romcoms mixed in with the horrors and thrillers, which did make me slightly curious. Especially when I spotted the Notebook, and pulled it out to make sure it was actually that DVD and not just cleverly disguised porn.

“Hey, I leave you alone for two seconds, and you’re already going through our stuff?” I heard behind me, making jump. I turned around, ready to apologize, but he didn’t look angry — in fact, he was grinning. “Whatcha find that’s so interesting?”

I giggled, holding up the case. “The Notebook?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He suddenly looked embarrassed. “Uhm, that’s not mine,” he said, defensively. “I’m sure Vanessa must have left it here or something.”

“You only just got here,” I reminded him.

“Well then one of the other guys!” He turned away, putting down the laptop he was carrying on the table.

“Right, well, I think it’s cute anyway. Whoever it does belong has good taste,” I said, putting it down on the sideboard and then joining him when he took a seat at the table.

“You would, you’re a total chick at heart.”

“Yeah well, I am actually a chick, as you put it.”

“I know,” he groaned. “It’s hard to forget since Mikey’s been giving me shit over that.”

“Why’s that?”

“He thinks you’re some kind of succubus come to steal my soul or something,” he replied, grinning. “I tried to assure him that I’m pretty sure you’re not a demon but I don’t think he’s listened.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I am. What does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It’s just Mikey being Mikey. Anyway, back to the reason you’re here, which is to work, right?” He shook his head and I watched him open up the laptop, then wake it up by moving the touch-pad. I looked away when he typed in the password, even if he didn’t seem to mind much. Then, he pushed the laptop over to me.

“You’re right, sorry,” I said, looking at the screen. I opened up the word program, then paused. “I’m not gonna accidentally stumble upon and be scarred forever by your secret stash of fetish porn or something, am I?”

He snorted. “No, I keep that on the other laptop,” he replied with a smirk. I arched my eyebrow.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I blinked, not sure if I had an answer for that statement, and instead focused on the laptop in front of me in an attempt to stop a blush forming on my cheeks. That was me being super-smooth and not embarrassed at all by any hint of sex. Really.

“Shall I leave that out of my recount of today’s events?” I asked finally, when I’d found my voice once again.

“Hmm, probably best, if I want to avoid an earful from Brian. He’s a bit, er, touchy when it comes to keeping up a good image for our fans.”

“Fair enough. It is his job to keep you scandal-free, right?”

“I guess so.”

Gerard thought it would be a good idea to get the fan’s ideas of what to put in the next few blog posts, so after I’d finally typed up the start of an introductory post we spent about thirty minutes getting more and more annoyed with the website and trying to add a poll. Finally, I found a help guide designed for the blog software they were using, and after a few more minutes found the instructions on what to do. Finally, between us we managed to finally put a poll up, listing all the bands that were part of the Whiteout tour so far and then asking which one the readers would like a feature or interview with. Gerard made me put MCR at the top, since, in his words, ’we are the best’. I asked what about SAYF, and he said I should put them just under. So I did.

This done, I was feeling pretty satisfied, until Gerard pointed out that I hadn’t actually finished the first post yet. I sighed. “Why do you have to remind me?” I whined, pulling up the word document and reading through the lines I’d written. I quickly added a few more paragraphs, drawing both snorts of laughter and glares from Gerard as I typed.

’Hey guys, welcome to the most awesome blog on the internet!

Okay, so maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but where else will you be getting an insider’s look on tour life? This is a totally new thing to me, since I’m a tour virgin, but hey, it’s an experience and I’m always up for new experiences. Right now, I’m sitting in MCR’s tour bus, chatting to one Gerard Way and writing this. You can be jealous if you want.

(Oh, Gerard says I shouldn’t put that there. Ah well, too late now. It’s been written, and what’s written can never be unwritten! Well, yeah, there’s the backspace... I was making a point...)

Anyway, what the hell is the point behind this blog? To show you what really goes on behind the scenes, and no, I won’t be sparing any details. Expect many long winded stories about my daily activities, hopefully with some special guest experiences from musicians so it’s not too boring (just a short while ago, I was chatting with the very rad Liza York from Hello, Irony!), and maybe I’ll throw in a few videos and snaps to keep you begging for more ;)

What’s that I hear? Yes, there will be juicy, juicy gossip — like, did you guys know that MCR have the Notebook on DVD? I’m not kidding! I’m not the only one getting a mental image of popcorn and fluffy pink slippers now, am I?

Uh-oh, I’m getting evils now, so I’d better wrap this up.

Rock on,
Cam xoxo’

I ducked Gerard’s half-hearted hit as I copied it over to the ’add a new post’ section and hit submit, giggling wildly.

“God, way to ruin my rep, Cam,” he complained.

“What rep?” I asked, innocently, as I turned away from the laptop to look at him. He pulled a face, half between a frown and a laugh.

“Fluffy pink slippers? Really? I’ll have you know my fluffy slippers are very sexy panda ones!”

Which sent me off on another fit of giggles, something which both seemed to exasperate and amuse him. If someone had seen how much I’d been giggling in the past few hours no doubt they’d have ever guessed I was actually twenty-six years old.

Just as I’d calmed down, there was the sound of the door being hit, which reverberated loudly inside. I looked up, curious, as it swung open and Frank, all tattooed arms and wild black hair, fell in. “Goddamnit!” He yelled, kicking it. It was only when he straightened up and turned around that he noticed there were other people on the bus. I stared at him. “The door got stuck!” He explained at my curious glance, hitting it again, but with his fist this time, and wincing. “Ow, that actually hurts.”

“Wimp,” Gerard said with a snort, and then looked down at the many bags Frank was carrying in one hand. “Hey did you bring presents?”

“No, it’s just food,” Frank said sadly, putting them down on the table. “I got ambushed by this girl when I was walking over and she shoved them at me. I got kind of excited too until I realized it was just grocery’s. Kind of a let down.”

“It’s good enough for me!” Gerard said, grabbing hold of one of the bags and pulling things out of it. “Oh awesome, we got cauliflower!”

“Do you even eat cauliflower?” I asked, as he started emptying it all out on the table.

“Not really,” he admitted. “But how can you not like a vegetable which kind of looks like a brain? It’s awesome!”

“Fucking zombie,” I said, sliding out of my seat at the table and standing up. “Hi Frank, by the way,” I said, nodding in his direction. He’d sat down the provided seats and opened a can of coke fresh from the packet, completely ignoring the fact that Gerard was currently strewing the contents of three bags of shopping all across the bus. He grinned and waved.

“Hey there, Cameron. I remember you. Airport, right? What you doing here?”

“Uhm, trying to work, actually. Don’t ask me why — I don’t know myself.”

He laughed, nodding. “I like that mindset,” he said, glancing over my shoulder. “Er, Cameron, would you mind taking that off Gerard? Last time he got hold of a ketchup bottle when he was excited, I ended up with new red highlights in my hair. And you have no idea how hard it is to get sauce out of your hair. It does not make for a good conditioner.”

I turned around, noticing that Gerard had indeed moved on from brain-shaped vegetables to condiments, and gently took the bottle from his hand like Frank had asked. I didn’t really fancy new coloured hair either, honestly. Then, I started gathering up the grocery’s which were out, and walked to the small kitchenette towards the back of the bus I’d noticed from before. It was barely more than a couple of cupboards near the ceiling and a counter, but it was certainly better equipped than our one — all we had was a microwave and a mini-fridge. I opened the cupboards randomly, hoping to find some kind of hint of what went where, but all of them were empty except a packet of cookies in the back of the far left one.

At least Gerard hadn’t been lying about the cookies, I thought happily, as I started to put things away. Frank came through a few minutes later, and helped me do it. Between us it only took a few minutes, and I thanked him. He shook his head.

“It’s not even your job,” he said. “But I guess I should be glad there’s somebody to look after Gerard whilst I’m not here.”

“I thought you were meant to be the immature one?” I replied, walking back into the lounge — but not before I grabbed the packet of cookies, which I threw at Gerard. He was sitting at the table, still, looking intently at something on his laptop, and jumped when the cookies landed in his lap.

“What, me? Well, yeah actually, but everyone here has a childish streak. Trust me, it makes touring a hell of a lot more fun,” Frank explained with a grin.

I nodded. “I can see how that would be true. Hey, Gee, what you looking at?” I asked, sitting down next to him again. Frank slid into a seat across from us.

“Your blog!” He said. “You know you already have comments?”

“What? It’s only been, like, five minutes,” I said, sceptically, leaning over to look at the screen whilst he opened the packet I’d thrown at him. He wasn’t lying, either — there were ten comments to the post, and I laughed as I read through them.

“Aww, look, we’re a hit with them, Gerard!” I exclaimed, pointing at one comment in particular. “This one is great — it says they’re gonna stalk me. That’s sweet. And this one, below it... this girl, at least I assume it’s a girl with a name like Brooke... well, anyway, she says she’d think you were hot even if you wore pink fluffy slippers.”

“Well, that’s because it’s true,” Frank said with a wink. “But what the hell are you guys talking about?”

“Oh, remember earlier when I met you? At the airport? And Mallory explained that I was meant to be writing this daily blog thing? Yeah, that’s this,” I explained, turning the laptop around and letting him take a look. He scrolled up to the top of the page, and then read through it all, his grin widening.

“Hey, they love you! And our fluffy pink slippers!”

I couldn’t help but smile along with him. He had an infectious kind of smile, the sort which just made you want to sit there and just grin, in a rather dopey fashion. “Mallory said that I should write it kind of informally, you know, like I’m telling a best friend everything, not a bunch of strangers on the internet. Plus, this way, I get to make people laugh, too!”

He chuckled. “It’s cool. Good luck with it. And if you ever want a guest post, you can ask me.”

“Oh that would be awesome!”

“Hey, wait a minute Frankie, I called dibs on the first guest post! Right, Cam?” Gerard said, turning to me.

“Wait, what?” I asked, confused, because he’d done no such thing. He glared at me, as if telling me to just go along with it. “I mean, oh yeah, he did. Sorry Frank, maybe the second one?”

He pouted. “Fine, I’ll do sloppy seconds.”

I glanced down at the open packet of cookies on the table, and remembered the deliciousness we were meant to be stuffing our faces on at that moment. I grabbed a cookie from the packet, and Gerard, seeing what I was doing, nabbed his own, fast, as if he was worried they’d all be gone by time he got the chance again. Frank reached over and stole the packet from my hands, then, and I frowned at him as he hid them under the table. Perhaps Gerard was right to act quickly.

“Where are the others?” Gerard asked, chewing on a piece of the cookie. I did my best not to act on my older sister instincts and chide him for talking with his mouth full, because how lame would that be? “I know Mikey’s with Alicia, but Bob and Ray? Where are they?” He added.

Frank shrugged. “I don’t know... actually, I last saw Ray talking to this guy called Elijah. Something about his guitars. He’s really protective of them, isn’t he? But Bob I have no clue.”

“Was that Elijah wearing a feather boa?” I asked, curiously. Frank nodded, looking slightly surprised, and I laughed. “Oh, so you saw one of my mad busmates then. Seriously, they’re even weirder than me! Nice, though.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Gerard said with a snort, finishing off the cookie. He had managed to sprinkle half of it down himself as well. “Weirder than you?”

“I take offence to that,” I replied, flicking his side with an index finger. “You’re the one obsessed with death and vampires and brain-shaped vegetables, you... zombie weirdo!” I really needed to come up with a new insult; undead? Corpse-lover? Wait, no, that was just creepy.

“I make a very cute zombie, thank you.” He huffed, scooting away from me so I couldn’t flick him again. “Ask Frank.”

“He does,” Frank agreed, nodding seriously. “Although I’m not really into the necrophilia aspect that suggests. Vanessa obviously is, though.”

“Don’t worry, Gee, you’re a very cute zombie, I’m sure. Look at how many fans you have,” I said, pointing at the screen. I refreshed the page, and noticed that the comment total had hit forty-seven. Damn, word spread fast around here.

“I know!” Gerard agreed, brightly. “I’m just lovable like that.”