When they weren't caught between photoshoots or performances, the Saturdays girls often found it difficult to fill the free time they suddenly acquired. Even if it was no more than three days or a week, there was a strange sense of disconnectedness once they were left without a constant stream of activity.
A few months before the tour, they were given a brief amount of time to simply focus on the new rehearsals and relax before they would have to set off around the country again, but it left them with a lot of time in between to simply lounge about their flats. It wasn't enough time to visit their families, yet it was too much time to go out partying every night to blow off some steam, so mostly they ended up messing around at home rather than doing anything exciting. As ever, they had spent so much time together over the past years that the five naturally gravitated to one another in any period of stagnation, so they found themselves holed up in Mollie and Frankie's apartment on one particularly lazy afternoon, alternating between bantering and going back to their own individual devices.
Normally, Mollie would be the one to try and rouse some sort of excitement out of her band members if they went too long without being social, but this time she was the laziest of all of them. As Rochelle tapped away on her laptop, answering some very desperate twitter pleas so the fans wouldn't think she didn't love them, the blonde member of the Saturdays trudged up behind her with a heavy sigh and then flopped herself over the back of the sofa. She'd been complaining of a headache for the last hour to anyone who would pay attention, but she'd become curiously quiet about it during the last fifteen minutes.
"Rochelle," Mollie whined, hanging over the girl's shoulders and letting her heavy head drop down. Rochelle reached up and wrapped her hand around Mollie's dangling wrist in a friendly grip, shaking it lightly. Her eyes remained glued to the laptop screen as she did so; she was too well practised in entertaining the most changeable band-member to be properly distracted.
"Yeah, Mollie?" she replied absently. Mollie just gave a half-hearted groan under her breath and remained slumped there. "You alright?" She gave another gentle shake. When the other girl still didn't answer, she peeled her eyes away from the screen to glance at the unmoving body lying on her shoulder. Attention successfully diverted, Rochelle turned within Mollie's loose grasp and seized both her arms. Carefully, she dragged the blonde over the back of the sofa before unceremoniously depositing her in the sofa cushions, where she sank with sloth-like apathy into her ungainly position.
Rochelle poked her head forward to look at Mollie's face, taking in the sour colour of her cheeks and the circles beneath her eyes. With a sigh, Rochelle rested the back of her hand on Mollie's forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin. Mollie groaned and batted irritably at the action and that more than anything alerted her band mate to the seriousness of the situation; Mollie never refused a friend that wanted to be touchy-feely.
"Alright," Rochelle said resignedly, and set aside her computer before getting to her feet. "How's your stomach?" she asked.
Mollie peeled one eye open to peer cautiously at the girl standing over her. "It's fine," she said warily.
"Good." Without any more ado, Rochelle leant down and slipped her arms around Mollie's waist before slinging her over one shoulder in a fireman's carry, revealing the reason behind her earlier question. Mollie cried out once in surprise before she simply gave up and accepted her position, letting her body relax. "Vanessa, Una!" Rochelle called as she carried Mollie back toward the bedroom. They looked only mildly surprised to see Rochelle carting Mollie like a sack of flour because, in all honesty, it wasn't that unusual. The only discrepancy was the fact that, for once, Mollie looked lifeless as she hung there. She managed a half-hearted, upside-down wave as they came into her line of sight before stilling again.