nancy boy. {open}

[elLIE]

Oh touring. It was an on again off again love/hate affair. The pros of seeing the sights, the fans, or just playing in general gets balanced, or sometimes washed out with drama, getting paranoid, poor hygiene, cramped spaces, no privacy, and.. more drama. It was really like you were thrust back into high school, only most bands weren't the popular kids. Well here's their chance, and it wasn't fun. You've got the press trying to stick their head's so far up your ass to see what you've got inside. It was ridiculous.

Lars had strolled out of the tour bus after a few cups of coffee and a shower. Aviators in tow upon his face to block out the morning rays. A thin hoodie covered his arms, his little phobia of sun to tattoos coming into play.

By now the concession had to be selling something... anything... a candy bar would suffice. Not really, but he didn't feel the initiative to get into a car and drive into town to get food. Although the smell of some coffee house donuts was already intoxicating his brain, and the scent was no where to be found in the bus grounds.

Walking on into the quiet venue Lars spotted a few people bustling about mingling, doing whatever they needed to. All he ever had to do was play, and get payed for it. These people just made sure that was possible. Continuing on he made it to the tent that had grills and whatever else behind it, condiments on a table not many steps away.

A glance at the stand showed a Krispy Kreme box, just sitting there, ready to be devoured. His eyes darted around from under the glasses, spotting a little sign that pointed the donuts out for a dollar each.

Another look around and Lars stepped forward, no one was around, really, so he just shuffled around his pockets for loose change, making a dollar and putting it on the table next to the donuts, lifting the lid and snatching one for himself.

One bite and he'd died and gone to heaven. You just couldn't screw up a original glazed donut, it just wasn't possible. Leaning on one of the tents supporters he continued to enjoy the little breakfast.

[yukiko]

With a yawn, Kiko stumbled off the tour bus and into the bright light. She instantly snapped her eyes tightly shut and pulled the visor of her hat further over her eyes. Her hair looked like she had just rolled out of bed, which she had, seeing as she couldn't sleep with the constant tapping of the groups drummer in the kitchen area of the bus. So, she managed to wake herself enough to pull on her loose knit sweater and flip-flops to stumble out. She was still in her PJ's though, which consisted of short grey and white stripped shorts and a T-shirt.

Rubbing her eyes, she slowly opened then, getting used to the bright light and looked around. What was there to do so early in the morning? She hadn't the slightest clue, and it didn't help that there was pretty much no one around to tell her what to do. The sudden growl of her stomach didn't help matters either.

Brown eyes wandering around, Kiko decided to let her feet take her to... where ever she ended up. Which turned out to be some sort of concession tent. Perfect. Food. Maybe. Damn, she forgot you had to pay for everything around here. Maybe she'd find out what they had to eat and make her way back to the bus to grab some money. Yeah, that would work.

Shuffling along, Kiko stretched her neck to look at things sitting on the tables, and just random things all together. That was when she looked up and spotted someone familiar. Lars, lead guitarist of Who Killed Marilyn, standing over what looked like to be a donut box, clearly enjoying the overly sweet treat. Maybe she'd get a carrot. But then people would think the already small girl was dieting.

She frowned. A donut really did sound good right then. Biting her lower lip, trying to decide on whether or not she should approach her band mate or not and get one of the devils snacks (cause they are) herself. Finally, not even realizing she was moving, she found herself just a few steps behind the older man. "Erm... morning," she said probably too quiet for him to even hear.

[elLIE]

Lars heard the foot falls behind him and turned his head a little to see his keyboardist. Mentally he sighed as he licked some glazing off his fingers. Turning his body around from the counter he leaned back on the makeshift stand, eying her a bit through his aviators before turning his attention back to the grounds.

It was funny how she greeted him. He let the corner of his mouth move up a little as he turned his head towards her, "What's up?" he voiced nonchalantly. No 'erms' around here, oh no. But then again that's a pro of being a whopping six years older.

He would slap himself mentally, over, and over and over again for ever hiring the pair of 18 year olds. Zadyr could at least pull his own at partying, he was a fun little clump of putty that Lars had the pleasure of molding into whatever the hell he wanted. But when it came to Kiko, he was at loss. She didn't swing with the boys. She was okay musically, and the band was in need of a keyboardist, she was the best they got on short time and she had pulled her own since. Lars was just scared that the cops would crack down on the band for alleged under age drinking, leading to practically everyone's arrest for possession.

Don't get him wrong, he didn't have anything against women in general, they just had to be his type, they had to be able to hold their own at parties and the shit and be as much as into it as he was. And not only that, they had to look good doing it; and be dignified at the same time. You don't find that type everywhere. Maybe if you go to New York or New Jersey: they're chock full of those girls; the intelligent ones that can still smoke and drink like the boys.

But Kiko was just there to him, playing the keys; addressing him with shy little 'erms'. You'd think the girl would have been used to him by now, the shared a tour bus after all. But no, it was still 'erms'. Lars hated when things got awkward for himself, which was by far a rare occurrence, but to see others stumble around or be intimidated just tickled him pink.

"And uh," he started remembering a little detail through some blurred thoughts of the night before, "I think you might have little something on your CD booklet thing you left on the table in the backroom of the bus... the case is a little cracked too. Total accident, sorry."

[yukiko]

okay... so i'm an idiot and managed to delete this post. don't ask me how, as i care not to show... i'll re-write it in the morning when i'm more awake and can hopefully remember the most of it >.<

[elLIE]

Lars showed his teeth in a slight grin before licking his lips an shaking his head, that good 'ol drummer. He didn't respond anything towards it, Lars had merely napped through the night, really. He was accustomed to sleeping in small portions during the day to makeup for it. It only became a bitch when he had a hang-over or was still suffering from a crash. Which was idiotically redundant and not so blissful, but easily fixed with a hand-full of Advil, 5 cups of coffee, and chain smoking. And people wondered why he had a starbuck's cup and a cigarette in hand nearly all the hours between the morning until evening. They would too, he figured, if they knew the anvil his head was to the hammer of Last Night.

Luckily he hadn't gone too deep in last night, so the headache was light, all he needed was food, really. It was still the beginning of tour, he wasn't even getting started yet.

He was continuing to just lean against the tent's support beams, arms crossed and eyes scanning the grounds idly, making arrangements on where the hell he should venture to next, because quite frankly nothing expressively amusing came to mind. He had yet to meet many on the tour, so until then all the bodies were useless.

He took his eyes off of the surrounding for a moment as she spoke about her CD, not moving his head, but just darting his eyes. "Yup." he answered squarely, "Scotch just makes a coffee stain looking thing." There was more than scotch on there, but he didn't need to share that, not as if he would if he needed to anyway.


"Pfft," he started, actually turning around, keeping his arms crossed, now just leaning himself to face her, "I distinctly remember telling you..." Okay no, he didn't remember distinctly, but he was pretty sure he had, "Once you stop playing victim and actually opening your fucking ears maybe you could have remembered yourself..." he spoke. It wasn't to venomous or mean, it wasn't to sweet, it was just enough intimidation, but not cruel.

Lars didn't play cruel unless he must, his temper only ever flared when he was tired or in pain or just driven to the point. He wasn't happy this morning, but he wasn't angry, he just was, nothing had come about to make him joyful, and nothing had really dampened it yet. He decided to remain neutral until either event struck him before deciding on his mood for the day.

His chuckled once before shrugging to show he didn't mean so much harm before casting himself from of the beam, "Whatever."

[yukiko]

Staring at the band leader, Kiko could just feel a headache coming on. It was going to be an extremely long day, she could already feel it. She wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep until their next show. Fuck practice, that's what the rest of them did anyway. Screw everything, let's get high and drunk! She'd rather just let them do that crap while she slept. If she didn't get dropped from the band anytime soon, she was likely to leave because of her bandmates stupidity... either that, or one of them would end up ODing and die and then the whole band will be dropped, and the tour would probably stop while investigations went on about the drug usage within the band. Idiots.

Scotch...? Okay, so maybe it wasn't all as good and well as she had first thought. She made a mental note to never leave anything that was her's and/or could get ruined lying around again. "Yeap, because coffee-looking stains are the bomb!" she said in a rather cheerily sarcastic tone. She hated being sarcastic, but sometimes, specially when she didn't get enough sleep, it just happened, and she couldn't stop herself.

Ohh, so now he was blaming her for her missing practices? Naturally, newbie gets all the blame. 'it's not my fault that I didn't tell her about the practice. It's her fault for it never even crossing my mind.' She couldn't help herself, but this whole 'last minute, way-too-young keyboardist' thing was just starting to get on her nerves. If she'd known that she'd have to grow through so much shit from her bandmates, and them some gay fag on the internet ragging about her age and 'innocence' she might have auditioned for the New York Syphony Orchestra like her parents wanted. She might not of ended up with the fans like she possibly could in Who Killed Marylin? but being in one of the worlds most acclaimed orchestra's playing the violen might just damn well be worth it.

A glare reaching her eyes, she watched Lar's, trying to decide if she should drink a gallon of coffee or go back to bed. Without putting much thought into, and he little 'whatever' crap pushing her over the sleepless edge, she spoke without putting much thought into it, and still didn't really care once she said it. "Go fuck a goat." She would have gotten an hour lecture from her Christian parents for saying that outloud. She glated at him a moment lenger before turning away from him, looking for the nearest outlet.

[ooc: even throwing insults she's weak XD she will learn though... eventually...

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[elLIE]

Okay, so a brow raise could suffice for the sarcasm, but the last bit was just priceless. Didn't she know by now all he ever sought in her was key board and reaction? Goat fucking and stomping away? Fucking priceless.

Lars couldn't help but feel his face contort into a wide toothy grin before letting loud laugh escape. He remained where he was, though, and just relished in his amusement as she turned around. He carried on for about 5 seconds before sauntering up behind her.

How could he possibly, humanly help himself? He twisted his arms around her waist, aviator clad face in line with hers from behind, grinning wildly. It looked almost as if he was just about to yank her up off her feet and carry her 20 yards, but no, he just wanted to make her feel uncomfortable, is all. What better way than having himself, a six year her senior rock star, famous for drugs and groupies get all up into her personal space? Oh, he deserved a medal.

Inclining his face towards hers he laughed once more before speaking semi-seductively as an after thought, "You know.. that you're just jealous I have more selection than your goats, and that it doesn't include you."

He let go with a breathy scoff, walking back a few paces. Unfair play? Maybe, but whatever, it wasn;t like he was actually attracted to her, and he had the upper hand. So long as she attempted to win her hand in this he'd just show her time after time how many times she couldn't get away with it. Admittedly, the old keyboardist was a smelly dude Lars knew from the Bronx, talented, but addicted beyond belief. Once he kept forgetting where the fuck he was waking up..it was time to say goodbye.

"I mean, to say, no I will not fuck you or a goat.. same thing... really, to put it bluntly," oh, harsh. A lopsided grin was on his face, thoroughly satisfied with himself as he pulled out a Marlboro red.