just being a childish idiot waiting for something to wake me up to reality and just maybe Talon and Kyle are that wake up call.
It is with that thought that I wipe the tears from my eyes and climb down out of bed. I throw up the hood of my hoodie, hiding myself in my little shell of protection and I get the strangest sense that I am taking the walk of shame, without having done the act itself.
When I get to the bathroom, the door is closed. Damn it. I really have to pee and I don’t want to stand here so exposed to the guys in the bunk behind me. I walk into the kitchen, following my nose to the coffee and find Kyle sitting on the couch watching TV. “Is everyone else still asleep?”
He nods. “Or at least hiding in their bunks.”
“Did we have any girl problems last night?”
He just shakes his head. There is a sense of shame coloring his features. “Did you have a good night?” I ask him and he nods, but he’s not really looking at me. “Get lucky?” I tease, but instantly regret the question when I see him flinch. I take that as my answer and pour myself a cup of coffee.
“So, panda, you’re the reason we have coffee on board this bus?” Panda? Huh? Oh my god, my hood. I turn to see Talon standing between me and the bathroom, the light of the bathroom illuminating the rather dark hallway.
“I didn’t ask for it and I certainly didn’t make it.” I try to look at him, only to realize that he is standing there in low riding pajama pants and nothing else. God, even his feet are sexy.
“How’d you sleep?” he asks with genuine curiosity.
“Okay, you?”
He just shrugs and steps around me to the fridge where he pulls out a bottle of Gatorade, opens it and chugs down over half before capping it and putting it back in the fridge before sitting on the couch next to Kyle and watching TV. I turn around and stomp off to the bathroom. What did I do, turn into a fucking pumpkin over night?
I shrug it off, do my business, run a brush through my mess of a head of hair and pull it back into a pony tail. I don’t get too dramatic with the make-up, but soon I will be walking into a hotel, I’d like to look decent when I do. When I’m done, I ignore the boys and go straight to my room and start packing up some clothes, my make-up and shoes for the next couple of days.
Then I climb back up onto my bunk after I’m done making it and check my email, check my web searches and I come across some great articles from San Diego about the concert last night. They all make me smile.
“69 Bottles puts on one hell of a show.”
“Best concert I’ve seen in years.”
“Watch out world because 69 Bottles is the real deal.”
The headlines are all positive and I save several to tell the guys about. In fact, no time like the present. I jump down off of my bunk and grab my laptop, heading toward the front of the bus. Now sitting in the kitchen are Kyle, Talon, Dex (who I can’t even look at this morning), and Mouse.
“Where’s Peacock?” I ask just as the toilet flushes and the door opens. “Good, take a seat. I have some things to show you guys.”
That earns me a raised brow from Peacock who maneuvers past me to take a seat on the couch.
I read the same three headlines and the accompanying story following the real deal comment. By the time I’m done, the boys are glowing with excitement. The last line of the article makes me chuckle. “69 Bottles is so good they brought out Hollywood’s Elite couple.” Including a picture of Cami and Tristan standing in the crowd.
“Well done, guys,” I say and I let them have their moment of glory. They deserve it.
I continue scanning through my emails and come across one from Kyle. Odd. I open it. It’s a forwarded message.
It says, “This was forwarded by the label. After last night’s show, the owner of a chain of venues that we’re already scheduled to stop at is asking for additional shows. Three of the venues already have waiting
It is with that thought that I wipe the tears from my eyes and climb down out of bed. I throw up the hood of my hoodie, hiding myself in my little shell of protection and I get the strangest sense that I am taking the walk of shame, without having done the act itself.
When I get to the bathroom, the door is closed. Damn it. I really have to pee and I don’t want to stand here so exposed to the guys in the bunk behind me. I walk into the kitchen, following my nose to the coffee and find Kyle sitting on the couch watching TV. “Is everyone else still asleep?”
He nods. “Or at least hiding in their bunks.”
“Did we have any girl problems last night?”
He just shakes his head. There is a sense of shame coloring his features. “Did you have a good night?” I ask him and he nods, but he’s not really looking at me. “Get lucky?” I tease, but instantly regret the question when I see him flinch. I take that as my answer and pour myself a cup of coffee.
“So, panda, you’re the reason we have coffee on board this bus?” Panda? Huh? Oh my god, my hood. I turn to see Talon standing between me and the bathroom, the light of the bathroom illuminating the rather dark hallway.
“I didn’t ask for it and I certainly didn’t make it.” I try to look at him, only to realize that he is standing there in low riding pajama pants and nothing else. God, even his feet are sexy.
“How’d you sleep?” he asks with genuine curiosity.
“Okay, you?”
He just shrugs and steps around me to the fridge where he pulls out a bottle of Gatorade, opens it and chugs down over half before capping it and putting it back in the fridge before sitting on the couch next to Kyle and watching TV. I turn around and stomp off to the bathroom. What did I do, turn into a fucking pumpkin over night?
I shrug it off, do my business, run a brush through my mess of a head of hair and pull it back into a pony tail. I don’t get too dramatic with the make-up, but soon I will be walking into a hotel, I’d like to look decent when I do. When I’m done, I ignore the boys and go straight to my room and start packing up some clothes, my make-up and shoes for the next couple of days.
Then I climb back up onto my bunk after I’m done making it and check my email, check my web searches and I come across some great articles from San Diego about the concert last night. They all make me smile.
“69 Bottles puts on one hell of a show.”
“Best concert I’ve seen in years.”
“Watch out world because 69 Bottles is the real deal.”
The headlines are all positive and I save several to tell the guys about. In fact, no time like the present. I jump down off of my bunk and grab my laptop, heading toward the front of the bus. Now sitting in the kitchen are Kyle, Talon, Dex (who I can’t even look at this morning), and Mouse.
“Where’s Peacock?” I ask just as the toilet flushes and the door opens. “Good, take a seat. I have some things to show you guys.”
That earns me a raised brow from Peacock who maneuvers past me to take a seat on the couch.
I read the same three headlines and the accompanying story following the real deal comment. By the time I’m done, the boys are glowing with excitement. The last line of the article makes me chuckle. “69 Bottles is so good they brought out Hollywood’s Elite couple.” Including a picture of Cami and Tristan standing in the crowd.
“Well done, guys,” I say and I let them have their moment of glory. They deserve it.
I continue scanning through my emails and come across one from Kyle. Odd. I open it. It’s a forwarded message.
It says, “This was forwarded by the label. After last night’s show, the owner of a chain of venues that we’re already scheduled to stop at is asking for additional shows. Three of the venues already have waiting
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