Killing's Just A Game

"Melanie?"

My attention is immediately snapped away from Gerard and turned towards Ray. The words startled me, as they were the first that have been spoken directly to me since being introduced to the band.

"Yes?" I reply.

"Frank tells us that you're in public representation, right?" Ray asks.

"Oh yeah, I am," I answer, sneaking a quick peek at Frank. He gives me a reassuring smile.

"Okay. Well I'll get straight to the point then," Ray begins. "We've had a bit of a controversial past."

He shoots Gerard a meaningful look, to which Gerard just rolls his eyes.

"Basically, we need someone to cover up for us when we do something stupid. We're starting to get a taste of fame, and we need some media protection, someone to share our side in a way that sounds educated and sober."

"Sounds like the perfect job for me," I joke. Ray laughs and clears his throat.

"Do you mind if we ask you a few questions before we just give you the job?" Ray asks.

"Nope, have at it," I encourage. On the outside, I look like I'm enjoying myself. On the inside, I'm scared to death. My brain is working overtime trying to prepare itself for whatever questions they might throw at me. I see Mikey straighten up in his seat. He must be the first to grill me.

"Do you drink coffee?" he asks. What the hell type of question is that?

"Yeah, we are in a coffee shop after all," I reply, mentally kicking myself from the sarcasm. I feel Gerard silently chuckle beside me.

Frank is second. "Do you drink, smoke, or do any drugs?"

"I drink when the occasion calls for it, I don't smoke, and I'm totally clean as far as drugs go." Frank nods, suddenly very businesslike. I get the strange desire to smack him and make him be silly like he normally is.

Bob is third, he leans towards me, squaring his shoulders in an intimidating manner.

"Do you play video games?" Again...what is with these questions?

"Sometimes with my brother, Jimmy," I lie. "Though I'm not very good." That part is true, at least.

Ray smiles, indicating that he is next. "How would you feel about sharing a cramped, filthy tour bus with five musicians and a band manager with hardly any food or chances to shower?"

"Does the tour bus have a toilet?" I ask dumbly.

"Yes."

"Then I could manage, even though I am a strong believer of personal hygiene. I can only imagine the stench of such a place."

Mikey scoffs, "You have no idea, Princess."

I turn to Gerard to await his question. He smirks at me, then twirls a lock of my hair between his fingers. I see Frank tense up and clench his jaw in my peripheral vision.

"Let's say, completely hypothetically, of course," Gerard begins.

"Oh of course," I mock, not at all ashamed of using sarcasm with him. He only rolls his eyes and continues, as if my trivial comment didn't exist.

"Let's say it's time to go to bed on this previously mentioned tour bus from Hell. There are five bunks, which the band members sleep in, and a couch for the band manager. Where would the PR girl sleep? Would she share a bunk, share the couch, or sleep on the floor?"

I contemplated this for a moment, reminding myself that this situation was much less than hypothetical. It was probably going to become an actual dilemma.

"I'd say that she would most likely kick one of the musicians out of his bunk and let him figure it out," I retort smugly.

"Oh really?" I can tell Gerard is delighted by my answer; he wasn't expecting it. "And which band member would she deprive of his sleeping place?"

"Well she would have two options. She could either take the bunk of the cleanest band member, or the lead singer. Lead singers are always arrogant, and usually need to be put in their place."

The guys let out a chorus of "Ooohs!". Gerard and I are both fighting the temptation to smile now, our little game coming to a close. I give in and laugh, then face Ray again.

"So, what's the verdict?" I ask.

"Well let's see," he replies, "Mikey, shall you start?"

"She's funny," Mikey concludes, "I say she's in."

"You know my vote," Frank chimes in when Mikey's done.

"We might as well give her a shot," Bob adds, "She seems all right."

"I like you," Ray determines, "Any girl that would dare make Gerard sleep on the floor is kick ass in my book. Gerard?"

Gerard stares at me for a moment, a look of deep concentration on his gorgeous face.

"We'll see who's sleeping on the floor, Princess," he states, using Mikey's joking nickname from before and giving me another wink.

"Yay!" I say, feeling surprisingly giddy for being at work. Frank gives me a high five, his elbow knocking over Mikey's coffee. Bob calls a waitress over to wipe up the spill and get Mikey another cup of joe.

As she's cleaning the mess, I reflect on the last hour of my life. I've successfully infiltrated a tight knit group of guys and even earned myself a nickname. Things are going shockingly well for this being the "toughest" job of my career to date. I have these five guys wrapped around my finger already. There is no way I could screw it all up now.

This is the easiest job ever.

With the table now clean and Mikey's cup refilled, the previous babble of the guys returns. I take a sip of my latte when I feel something wrap around my shoulders. Glancing down, I see Gerard has placed his arm around me. I glimpse over at Frank, who looks at Gerard's arm in an irritated fashion.

Okay, so maybe this won't be the easiest job ever...