Plus One

She twirled her hair around her finger grinning cheaply, sighing I rolled my eyes.
Band sluts, sluppits everywhere. I sat down next to Chris and Ricky who paid me no attention. Thankfully I wanted no attention I sulked and stared at every sluppet trying to get their hands inside the warped tour lineups pants.Covering my lighter i lit the cigarette attached to my lips and inhaled.

At the end stomping the cigarette out I grimaced at a sight of a sluppet sucking face with Jack Barakat. I sighed lit another cigarette and walked toward the breakfast station. I groaned and stretched letting my stomach show as i walked toward the back of the line.

I’m pretty sure not every dude here could be vulgar and exclusive to only whores. Or would that only be a dream as the line crept slowly I started scrolling through Facebook, debating to either bare this line or tred back to the bus.

Ah yes my bus filled with junk food fit for stoner queens. Stoners that only had fit my expectations in other words only me. My band mates were awesome glad I met them out of college. I went to college because “When I grow up I wanna save lives..” Of course that did have to mean an EMT. Now I do save lives, but not through I.V’s or defibs.

Looking around I sighed and realizing that the band that had been serving breakfast had been none other than stoner group 3OH!3. Yet again i have now taken a second looked around the room. Many Many Band Babes. Cutting my way out of the line i walked to my bus to only collide with an unseen figure.

Now i think:
Not all great love stories start with a whisper a kiss or even at a fucking bookstore. Nope. And I swear to satan if this story goes the way I think it does, I’ll fucking kill someone.

I stood up and dusted myself off then looked at the person i collide with.
Ryan Sitowski.
He grinned innocently and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Have a nice trip? See ya next fall?” I sighed he laughed and shook his head. Not very talkative.
“S-sorry.” he muttered barely enough to hear I nodded and walked away.

Biting my lip, Yup not a great sign but it was just a nervous tick. Now I ran to my bus barely dodging anybody.

Climbing onto my black shined out bus I came to the amazement of my bong still on the floor in front of the couch and my crap bag on the couch.

Biting my lip harder I locked my bus door queued spotify to the “For Those About To Rock.” Playlist and began ripping.

Notes

http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=209873762