expectations.

“Presley Dakota, if you aren’t out in the van within the next five minutes, we are going to have a very big problem.” The girl in question mumbles incoherently at whoever dares to try and wake her up before rolling onto her stomach and cuddling deeper into her white duvet.

A sigh comes from Finley as he realizes that it will take more than empty threats to get the bleached haired beauty to get up. He makes his way through the minefield that is Presley’s room before grabbing the edge of the sheets and tugging harshly. She tumbles ass over teakettle onto the apartment floor, jolting awake.

“What the hell?” She demands, outraged.

The young boy, barely holding back a grin at her disheveled appearance, shrugs noncommittally before chipperly spinning on his heel and practically skipping to the bedroom doorway.

“Now come on! You have,” he checks his phone he had pulled from his jean pocket, “three minutes to grab your bags and be in the van before we leave your ass.”

She glares playfully, pushing herself off the floor and grabbing all the last minute things she would need for a two month road trip.

“Like you could leave your lead guitarist and vocalist behind and play even one show successfully?”

He shrugs again. “There’s a first for everything.”

She rolls her eyes before pushing him out of her room so she can change.

She knew this was bound to be an amazing summer - she was playing mainstage at Warped Tour for God’s sake! Sure, it was fifteen minute act, but it was between All Time Low and Pierce The Veil, two of her favorite bands. People who had good spots to watch ATL wouldn’t leave their spots before seeing PTV, even if it meant suffering through a post-hardcore band whose frontman (well, in this case, frontwoman) was from Hicktown, Mississippi.

She tosses her hair into a rather messy ponytail and pulls on some black skinny jeans and a Neck Deep tank top, aiming more for comfort than style.

“Pres, if I have to come in there and drag your ass down to the van, I will!” Hayden threatens, scowling as he twirls the van keys around his fingers. Hayden never was and never will be, a morning person. He was much more of a mid-afternoon kind of guy and right now all he wanted was to go back to sleep.

“Calm yourself, I’m coming.” She announces as she bounds out the door, duffel bag in hand.

Glad to see that she had gotten out of bed in a semi-good mood, Hayden smiles as he shuts and locks the door behind them. The band had shared this apartment for the past year and a half and it was a bittersweet moment to bid it goodbye.

Hayden looks to Presley and sees the same conflict of emotion in her eyes. She was so easy to read sometimes. Bren, finally emerging from the trash pit known as the trunk of the van, throws his arms around the pair, pulling them in for a group hug. Finley joins soon after and Hayden laughs, throwing the guys off of him before smirking.

“First to the van gets to ride shotgun.” Finley, Bren, and herself look to each other before sprinting to the van. The minivan would be their home for the next two and a half months and the passenger seat was definitely the best place to be.

Bren makes it to the door first - sometimes having such long legs came in handy, even if most of the time they just enabled him to tease Presley about her short stature.

She and Finley groan before climbing into the backseat and settling in.

She logs onto tumblr and spends the next hour and a half alternating between mindlessly scrolling and telling Fin to stop wiggling. He had draped himself over her lap and shifted around about every five miles, claiming that he couldn’t get “comfy”, no matter which way he laid.

“Fin, if you don’t stop moving I’m going to punch you, I swear.” She announces, finally having enough.

He sits up in the seat and raises an eyebrow tauntingly.“Someone is super violent. It sounds to me like you need a little...brightening up.” She frowns, suspicious at whatever it is he’s suggesting.

“What do you-” She’s cut off by her own laughs as he grasps her ribs and tickles her.

“No - Stop! Oh- My- God!” She gasps out, nearly crying of laughter.

“And here we have a wild and vicious Fin torturing an innocent baby deer, also known as Presley.” Bren narrates, twisted around in his seat so he could film the two on his phone.

“Innocent?” Fin gasps, flamboyantly outraged.
“She threatened me!” Taking advantage of his distraction, Pres wiggles out of his grip and onto the floor of the van.

“Save me!” She weeps dramatically in front of the camera.

“And that’s a wrap!” Bren comments, turning off his phone. She gets back into her seat, shaking
her head at a pouting Fin. A minute later, a notification flashes on her phone.

Twitter: @Brenthegreat “these two idiots @finfinfishy and @backwardspresley providing the entertainment for the trip to Warped. Anchorage, Alaska, here we come!

She favorites the tweet before gasping at the song playing from their radio. The band grins at each other and Hayden turns the volume up to the point where Presley can practically feel the car vibrating. This had been their theme song for one of Hayden’s past girlfriends, Chelsea, whom they had kindly nicknamed, the Bitch.

It had eventually gotten to the point where they would hum the song to each other whenever she would walk in the room. Hayden had finally dumped her when he saw her straight up doing it with some junkie in an alley as they made their way home from a gig, and that was mainly because he was afraid of contracting some kind of STD.

“She likes to shake her ass she grinds it to the beat. She likes to pull my hair when I make her grind her teeth. I like to strip her down, she's naughty to the end.You know what she is, no doubt about it. She’s a bad, bad girlfriend.”

They chant the lyrics, gaining some funny looks from other cars passing them on the highway.

The funny thing is, they honestly didn’t care.

Notes

So first chapters are always kind of slow, but it will get better! Leave me some feedback? :))