Wings

Chapter Two: Reminiscence

-Chapter Two: Reminiscence-

Zack Ruiz frowned as he struck the last note of the song on his guitar.

For some reason, everything seemed so odd today. Granted, he did wake up on the wrong side of the bed, but that was probably because he was too busy tossing and turning, clinging desperately to the remnants of a vague dream.

He couldn't really remember what his dream was, but he could remember feeling the warmth that spread throughout his body while he was dreaming. It felt as if he was being hugged from behind, and to be honest, it was a feeling he sorely missed. He was just reveling in the comfort of the phantom embrace, when suddenly, something so bright flashed across his eyes, and the next thing he knew, he was ripped off the safety of the warmth he desperately wanted to keep.

The last thing he saw before he was pulled back into reality was two orbs of chocolate-colored eyes, watery from tears that have yet to fall.

That was a very, very strange dream indeed, and it left the day sorely lacking.

"Zack, are you done being a musical idiot now?"

Zack Ruiz looked up from where he was absent-mindedly fiddling with his guitar to glare at the tall, lithe man who entered the music room. A fall of auburn hair covered half of Travis Cruz's face, effectively hiding his sharp Hispanic features. It was his latest favored hairstyle, insisting that it gives him a 'mysterious, sexy look'. Zack thought it worked, because Travis's fan base nearly tripled in numbers, but instead he just told his friend that it made him look like an 'idiot anime character'.

Travis's lips curled up into a noticeable smirk as he teased Zack for what probably was the fiftieth time that day. "You've made seventy-two mistakes in three hours. That's quite a lot, even for a loser like you. Not that I'm counting your failures, or anything."

"Shut up, Cruz," Zack snapped. He saw the subtle glint in Travis's one visible eye, and suddenly understood the barb for what it was. It has always been Travis who could pull him out of whatever self-induced misery he usually drowned in. He grinned as he adjusted the guitar on his knees and took Travis's bait.

"We both know who the loser here is. You've made eighty-six mistakes in two hours, all because you couldn't get your eyes off Max's ass."

"And what a fine ass it was," Travis purred, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. He knew his mission was accomplished when Zack's sharp laughter reverberated throughout the music room. "Seriously, dude. What's up? You've been out of it since this morning."

Zack sighed and gave up trying to convince himself- and everybody- that he was concentrating on his music. "I had a dream last night."

"So? Everybody dreams sometimes, dude." Zack and Travis's heads snapped up at the voice of their bassist and long-time friend, Stephen Chan. The man was wearing a smirk that was as annoying to Zack as the one Travis was sporting at the moment. His slanted eyes, labeled by the media as 'blacker than night and darker than sin', sparkled with something akin to mischief as he ran his hands across his untied shoulder-length raven hair.

"How special was this kind of dream that you would spend weeks mulling over it?" Stephen pressed. His grin turned positively feral as a wicked thought crossed his mind. Or maybe I should ask 'how /wet/ was this dream'? If you're sexually frustrated, you only had to ask, dude. I have a lot of conta-"

"Quiet over there. I believe Zack was trying to explain why he's such a failure today," another voice teased from the doorway. Maxine Gomez, keyboardist and genius mixer, leaned casually against the door frame as she patiently waited for Zack to continue. Zack noted the subtle blue highlights on Max's dyed hair, complementing her aqua blue contact lenses. She stood a little taller than Stephen, but her slighter build and 'angelic features' had the media dub her as the 'fallen angel' of the group, given her track record of petty bar brawls and a million other minor offenses due to excessive, but minor pranks inflicted upon the unsuspecting public. Only her influential name, coupled with Travis's quick thinking and undying devotion, and the public's impassioned support prevented her from permanent residency at the local women's correctional facility.