Autumn Tears And Winter Leaves

Hang-overs and Hellos

Pasco began groaning before he even peeled open his eyes to the morning light slicing across the hotel room. The arm he cast across his eyelids were still not enough to screen out its vision-numbing glow. Writing underneath the blanket that Lawen had draped over him, he called feebly out to the room,

"Lawen...Lawen...Honey bunny."

With a light laugh, Lawen stepped into the room, drying her hair gently with a hotel towel. "Hey, Pasco baby," she greeted. "How you feeling?"

"Like a brass band is inside my head. And they won't shut up." Pasco replied, closing his eyes tighter in an attempt to squeeze out his hangover.

"And whose fault is that, darling?" Lawen teased, leaning over the couch to gently ruffle Pasco's hair.

"Don't do that," Pasco whined as he attempted to wriggle away. Weakened by the intense pain in his head, he winced and rested back against the couch. "I know what you're thinking," he added, squinting at Lawen through semi-focussed eyes.
"But it's not my fault. It's Billie Joe's. He plied me with all that alcohol and didn't even try to take advantage of me afterwards." Lawen laughed as she draped the towel back over the bath to wash later. Stepping back into the main room, she watched as Pasco dragged himself with an immense effort onto his side and wound himself into a protective ball. "Do you have any pain killers here?" he asked, his tone still heavy with whining.

"No, baby," Lawen answered. "I didn't count on an excessively hungover drummer on the second day."

"Meh!" Pasco exclaimed. "But I'm gonna die!"

Shaking her head, Lawen walked over to Pasco and gently straightened the blanket over him. "You're such a drama queen," she told him as she placed a hand against his cheek. "You're not going to die." She stepped back and tied her hair back quickly, never allowing her eyes to part from Pasco. "I'll go to the shop now and get you some tablets." Taking her bag from her bed, she walked towards the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Lawen..." Pasco called across the room to Lawen's back.

"Yeah?" Lawen answered as she turned to face him with a concern-written expression.

"I love you," Pasco said as he settled more comfortably underneath the blanket.

Grinning widely, Lawen swung the room door open. "I love you too, Pasco. Hangover too."

"Oh, and Lawen. If you see that no good, self-proclaimed rock star on the way down, tell him I hate him," Pasco added as Lawen stepped out of the room.

"Will do," Lawen assured him as she shut the room door with a laugh. Turning to face the lift, Lawen stuttered in her steps as she noticed an easily-recognisable figure already waiting there. Taking a deep breath to steady the nerves already trembling beneath her skin, Lawen forced herself forward, knowing that going back into her room without painkillers would ultimately cause her death. Urging herself to be casual, she stopped at the lift and smiled at the person beside her.

"Hey, Mike."

"Hey," Mike greeted with a warm smile. "How are you?"

"I'm fine thanks," Lawen answered as she analysed the floor. "You?"

"I'm good," Mike replied, a light laugh ringing in his voice. "How's Pasco?"

Shaking her head, Lawen rolled her eyes and briefly looked up at Mike. "Whining like a baby and cursing Billie Joe to Hell." she replied.

"Wouldn't be the first one." Mike chuckled. The lift chimed in front of the duo to capture their attention and Lawen pressed her lips together nervously as she waited for the doors to slide open. Stepping back as they eventually did, Mike beckoned to Lawen with a slight bow. "Ladies first."

With a timid laugh, Lawen walked into the lift, murmuring a feeble, "Thank you" as she did. Finding comfort in wedging herself into the corner, she watched as Mike wandered into the lift and pressed the ground floor button. As he leant back against the wall of the lift, he smiled across at Lawen. "Where you heading then?"

"A shop or something. Pasco needs pain killers," Grinning at the memories of the morning, Lawen bit her lip to prevent laughter from trickling out. "He's convinced he's going to die."

Mike laughed in response. "That sounds like Tré when he's hungover. All he needs is a feather boa and he'd be the perfect drama queen."

"You know, it really wouldn't surprise me if I went back and Pasco had one on." Lawen grinned. A sudden bout of confidence urged her eyes upwards to look at Mike who was smiling gently at her blatant insecurities. Letting her gaze cascade to the floor, she laughed at her own reluctance to talk to him. The sense forced to the back of her mind constantly echoed that he was a regular guy, that the celebrity status his band had achieved hadn't altered that fact, but the insistent fan in her echoed that Mike wasn't just a regular guy, he was a rock legend.

"So...um...where you heading?" Lawen asked, attempting to overcome her fears.

"Find a decent coffee shop," Mike replied with a proud grin.

Rolling her eyes spontaneously, Lawen giggled slightly. "That was a stupid question to ask, wasn't it?"

"Just a bit." Mike agreed with a widening grin. "But I'll let you off this time."

"Thank you. I'm forever grateful.," Lawen teased as she settled a little more comfortably into her corner. Despite her relaxing posture, her gaze was still hyper-active and craving a settling place; one that she couldn't find in the steel monotony of the lift. Instead Lawen found a compromise in memorising the display of the buttons on the lift.

"You know, you're more than welcome to join me," Mike offered, his voice drawing Lawen out of her fun-void entertainment. "I never did like my coffee without company." Raising her eyes in surprise, Lawen scoured Mike for any hints to a joke. The smile he wore casually removed that possibility from her mind until her eyes were tracing across the floor for the words to speak. "I understand if you want to get back to Pasco though," Mike continued, sensing her hesitance in replying.

"No," Lawen replied urgently, blushing furiously in her eager reply. "I mean...um...I'm sure that he'll be fine for a while."

"Great," Mike answered as the doors slid open with a ring. "Sounds like a plan then."

The musicians didn't have to wander far into the city to find their desired coffee shop. A few streets away from the hotel, the duo found a tucked-away café that suited their purpose perfectly. Lawen followed the bassist as he strided into the café, hesitating beside him as he reached the counter. Her eyes made an anxious sweep around her and found herself slightly relaxing as she noted her mostly-empty surroundings. A few customers were dotted around the café but the arrival of a rock legend and a young aspirer weren't enough to tempt them away from their conversations. It was something that made Lawen smile widely in relief.

"What am I getting you?" Mike asked, turning away from the counter to look at Lawen.

"Oh no," Lawen protested, stepping back slightly. "You don't have to."

Grinning, Mike leant against the counter and surveyed Lawen with amusement. "You know, I love independant women. They complain that men mistreat them but, when we go to do something nice, they refuse."

Smirking slightly, Lawen lowered her head. "All right," she caved in. "No need to dig out the feminist card on me. That was a bit extreme."

"So what am I getting you, Madam?" Mike questioned with a grin as the waitress stepped behind the counter, her artificial smile wilting with fatigue on her lips.

"A latté please." Lawen told the waitress, smiling warmly. As the waitress nodded and walked over to make her coffee, Lawen stepped slightly closer to Mike. "Next time they're on me," she told him firmly. "And I'm not taking 'No' for an answer."

"Fine by me." Mike answered, handing Lawen her latté as the waitress placed it on the counter. Slowly releasing his hands from around the cup, he smiled at Lawen. "Why don't you go find a table? I'll be over now."

"Yes, sir," Lawen teased with an awkward curtsey as she attempted to balance her coffee. As she slid slowly into a seat and subtly watched Mike place his order, she bit her lip, unable to believe that she was still within reality. Feeling like the luckiest fan in the world, she curled her hands around her cup as Mike approached the table and slid into the seat across from her.

Mike smiled broadly as he took his first sip from his drink. "I've missed that kick."

Unable to ease her eyes up from her cup, Lawen laughed. "You know there could be support groups out there for you."

"Nah," Mike replied, setting his coffee back on the table. "I've tried them. They don't work." Grinning, he leant back against his chair and traced his gaze across the café. "I like this place," he said gently. "It's quiet."

"It must be completely different to what you're used to," Lawen suggested, her finger dancing along the rim of her cup. "All the screaming, all the mayhem..."

"And that's just from my daughter," Mike joked. "Nah, seriously. Yeah, it's a whole load different. It's a nice change." Slightly leaning forward onto the table, he tilted his head to temporarily analyse Lawen. "You nervous about the tour?"

"Not really," Lawen replied dismissively, looking over her shoulder to avoid Mike's scrutiny. "I only feel like dying every time someone mentions it."

Smiling gently, Mike shook his head. "You'll be fine. We'll look after you. Well, Tré will probably play endless pranks on you."

"And Billie Joe will just try and get us drunk." Lawen added.

"OK, so I'll look after you." Mike compromised with a shrug.

"How do I know you haven't got an alter-ego too?" Lawen questioned, frowning slightly at Mike's widening grin.

Slowly leaning forward more, Mike looked around him secretively. "You don't," he answered. "You just have to trust me."

Lawen cautiously raised her cup, cradling it between her two hands. "Well, seeing the mess your two band mates made of my drummer, I'm not sure whether I'll be able to do that." she teased, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Your loss." Mike shrugged, settling back against his chair again with an amused smirk on his face. He watched as Lawen shook her head slightly, draining more caffeine from her cup for confidence before cradling it between her hands once again. There was something about her caution and reluctance that was endearing to him, the deer-in-the-headlights complex that she seemed to nurse within her beyond the rolls of her independence that intrigued him. Shuffling more comfortably into his seat, he twined his hands around his cup and fixed Lawen with a determined gaze. "So how long have you guys been together?" he asked.

Looking up, Lawen frowned in thought. "Five years," she answered slowly, nodding after a few more seconds of thought. "Yeah. Five years."

"You seem pretty clos,." Mike stated, draining yet more of his coffee.

"We are," Lawen smiled, her vision screened with memories. "Pretty much since day one those guys have been there for me. We've been through virtually everything together. They're a great group to be in a band with." Peeling out of her memories, Lawen blinked as her gaze lowered shyly into her coffee.

"That's the best kind of people to get in a band with," Mike nodded. "That's why I'm grateful I got Billie Joe and Tré."

"Even if they are insane." Lawen grinned up at him.

"Well, you can hardly speak for your band," Mike protested. "Look at Pasco."

Giggling, Lawen settled back into her chair. "Pasco's a darling," she defended. "A little hyper-active but a darling."

"You know, there's something that's been bugging me about him." Mike said, letting a frown cloud his face.

"No," Lawen answered, shaking her head with resolution. "I know what you're gonna say. No. He's not gay. Bisexual, yes, but not gay."

Nodding, Mike drained the last of his coffee. "Explains things." he stated simply.

"I think he just likes to camp it up for attention. Or for a shock factor," Lawen explained. "It works though."

Mike laughed. "It sure does." Pushing his cup a little distance away from him, Mike looked up at Lawen. "So what do you do when you're not in the band?" he questioned. "Do you have a job or something?"

"I'm a student," Lawen told him as she finished her coffee. "English Literature."

Whistling in surprise, Mike smiled. "Impressive. Uni then, yeah?"

"Yeah," Lawen replied. "Although, I've obviously had to drop out for a bit to do this tour."

"You going to go back?"

"Oh yeah," Lawen answered, nodding enthusiastically. "I definitely want to get my degree."

"Good luck with it." Mike said, stretching slightly.

"Thanks," Lawen answered. Knocking her sleeve back, she checked her watch and sighed slightly. "Well, it's been fun and all, but I've got to go. Pasco will be cursing me to Hell otherwise."

Laughing, Mike stood, suddenly towering over Lawen. "He's cursing a lot of people today."

Pushing back her chair, Lawen reached for her bag. "Well, that's Pasco. When he slips into drama queen mode, he means it." Standing, she tentatively raised her eyes to meet Mike's. "Well, thanks for the coffee." she said.

"No problem," Mike answered, smiling. "Next time they're on you remember."

"I know," Lawen replied, smiling back. "Well. I guess I'll see you later then."

"Sure," Mike agreed, watching as Lawen left the café, suddenly not as nervous as she had been when she had walked in.

Taking a deep breath, Lawen stood before the hotel room door, twisting her bag in her hands. Twisting the handle, she plunged into the room, absorbing the crumpled sheets still on the couch and the fact that she was now minus a drummer. Frowning, she dropped her bag onto the table as she passed the couch. "Pasco." she called gently as she slowly explored her room. Stopping in the doorway of her bedroom, she smiled slightly at the lump in her covers. "Hey, Pasco baby." she greeted, stepping into the room.

"Pasco is dead." Pasco droned.

Laughing, Lawen sat on the edge of her bed, placing the pain killers beside the drummer. "Stop being a drama queen and take these."

"I'm not a drama queen," Pasco argued, shuffling weakly up the bed. "I'm the drama queen."

As Pasco pulled the bedcovers down from his face, Lawen whistled. "You look pretty, sunshine." she said, viewing Pasco's ruffled, blue hair and sleep-heavy eyes.

"Thanks," Pasco mumbled, swallowing the tablets. "You know just how to make someone feel special." Settling once again against the bed, he frowned up at Lawen. "You took your time."

Lawen smiled into her lap at his comment. "Yeah, sorry," she apologised. "I got side-tracked."

Pasco's headache deepened with in confusion to Lawen's reaction. He watched her raise her eyes and noted the school-girl excitement over-flowing in them, but clamped his tongue from commenting. He knew better than to ask her any questions if she wasn't prepared to speak. Instead, he just appreciated seeing the singer smile once again.