Die In California

60

Rook's POV:

The release of Machine Gun Kelly's third studio album 'Bloom' was approaching quicker than ever, and we honestly had no idea how to deal with it. The boys and I were besides ourselves as we continued to run through the tracks and make unnecessary tweaks under the pretense that the album wasn't quite perfect just yet. But we all knew it was. 

We'd already released a handful of songs, which had all been accepted with open arms by fans. Fans were eagerly anticipating the release, and were already convinced that it was a good album. Devyn, she promised me that I'd worked my ass off on an album that was out of this world, every time I came home from the studio. She was my best cheerleader.

Yet, all that love and support still couldn't clear the haze of doubt at the back of my mind. I knew that we were a good band, I knew that we produced good shit, and I knew we never put anything less than our best out for the world to hear. I knew we didn't give a shit what others thought, and I knew that if the album received bad press, we'd just put it behind us and start work on the next.

But that doubt. That doubt wouldn't fucking leave. It was there, stuck like gum on the sole of your shoe. No matter how many days of 'family fun' we had, it just wouldn't leave me be. I couldn't shake it, resulting in sleepless nights and days where I struggled to eat. 

Devyn was a good sport, as always. She always made sure that I ate - just like I'd make sure she takes her psychosis meds every day. She always made sure that I showered and went to bed at a reasonable hour - by luring me in with the promise of sex, of course. She was there for me, without ever wanting anything in return.

Of course I'd try and shower her in love and affection as often as I could (as if sex wasn't enough). I'd bring home chocolates, flowers or wine after a studio session, or I'd let her colour in my tattoos or design me a new one. I'd take time out to watch her movies or tv shows (even if my mind was elsewhere - namely the studio), and eat at least one meal a day with her. 

Most of all, I always made sure to tell her I loved her throughout the day. From good morning texts, to 'I'll be late home' texts, there was always an 'I love you, my girl'. Without fail. And I just knew it would put a smile on her face. That was all I wanted. 

Something else I wanted, was for Devyn to join us on the tour we were inevitably going to have with the release of a new studio album. I initially thought we'd have to leave her behind - to my horrors - what with her tattoo studio, but her move to LA meant she had fewer responsibilities, and less holding her back. She could come and travel the world with us again.

But first, I had to ask her. I most likely would have to convince her to come along with us, even though I know she'd want to. But she's stubborn, and she will say it's irresponsible or impractical. 'Someone needs to look after the house'. 'And what about Casie?!'. I could hear all her feeble arguments just by the thought of asking her to join us. 

"Hey, my love." I smiled when Devyn walked into our bedroom one Tuesday evening, a sketchbook and pencil gripped in one hand, and a mug of coffee in the other. I could tell she'd been busy going through her taxes and things for the tattoo studio, and had decided to relax by drawing.

I slid my hands down her hips and around to her ass, as I admired her in all her glowing chaos. Her hair was knotted in a bun on the top of her head, thick strands of hair falling out as she tried to blow them out of her eyes. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt - I think it was Baze's - along with my sweatpants and her fluffy socks. She was a hot mess.

I instinctively reached up to brush her hair from her face, before pressing a kiss to her rosy button nose. "I'm so in love with you, my love." I groaned and nestled my head into her neck, occasionally nipping at her skin as she burst out into giggles.
"No you don't, not when I'm lookin' like this." She playfully huffed.