Take A Vacation

22 2 2
                                    

(A\N) hai again! This whole story has been very difficult to write (especially when wattpad thinks it's funny to delete your story so many fudgin times...) Anyways! I got my shit together and finally, here I present you Cabin Fever!
Thanks for reading and enjoy (>^.^)>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I drove down the streets of the Las Vegas strip I called home for as long as I could remember. I then turned down the same corner I've turned for nearly three years now. Before you know it, I pulled into the all too familiar parking lot of the Palm's hotel and casino. Since Panic! Kicked off in 2005, this was was our beginning. And if course, if you go down the exclusive halls of the building and turn left. Three doors down you'd then find their studio. I step out of my car and get greeted by the humid weather of Vegas. There was not a cloud in sight, but the stickiness clings to the air, making it hot and stuffy. I grab my guitar in the back seat, locks mt car and make my way inside.
I walk in the studio to only see Ryan, typing away on his laptop as usual. Once he shuts the door Ryan's eyes hesitantly leave the screen to look up at me. He raises his eyebrows slightly.

"You're late." He says instead of a regular greeting like 'hello' or 'how are you'. I guess he had a bit of a reason to have an attitude. Band practice was to be scheduled at four and it was now 4:45. I lift the strap of my guitar case over my head and set it next to Ryan's.

"Sorry Ry, rush hour kind of held me back." I lied. I Just didn't feel like coming in today. Although my lie was terrible Ryan seemed to have bought it. He shrugged and I sat down next to him.

"Anyway, did you finish the song we wrote the other day?" I asked.
Ryan rubbed his forehead and closed his laptop.

"Not yet but I'm working on it." He said sounding discouraged. From that I knew they wouldn't be making much progress that night. For months it's been the same question back and forth when it comes to interviews and fans asking when they should be expecting new stuff from Panic. As far as we could tell from the the little progress we've been doing. It may be while. We were fresh out of the fever era and we're having a hard time finding a new one.
My hair style was in the process of getting out of that phase and ditched those hideous red eyeglasses and switched them out with contacts. Ryan stopped styling his the way we once nicknamed 'The Ryhawk'. We still laughed at the dumb joke. He left it unstraightened and curly. Which I thought suited him way more. Spencer trimmed his hair and grew a beard. Jon well...Jon remained practically the same since he joined.
I got up from the couch and sat on a nearby stool, and tuned my guitar.
Jon and Spencer walked in ten minutes later. Guitar and drumsticks in hand. Even though they were sure that would be using neither, they were still hopeful. I looked around and my eyes laid on our first and only gold album on the wall. It was easier the first time around. I wasn't expecting it to be so hard. Not even legal to drink yet I still experienced so much being in this band. I was thankful. That's why I haven't given up yet.
After at least twenty minutes of arguing over sounds and lyrics Scott, our manager, walks in.

"How are we doing guys?" He asked. Sitting down on the arm of the couch. Ryan shook his head.

"Nothing, not even a chorus." He said closing his laptop and sighing in defeat. Scott pursed his lips and nodded. Ryan then got up. "I don't know what it is these pass few months have been blank." That's when Scott sat up.

"I think I know why." He said. We each looked over to him curiously.

"And what's that?" Ryan said.

"You guys just need a vacation that's all, c'mon just get out of Vegas for a while, it way too distracting and you guys need this trust me." Scott said, his voice hopeful. He wasn't wrong they haven't left Vegas since their last tour.

Cabin FeverWhere stories live. Discover now