The Incredible League of Goth Pizza Haters (RH)

Part 8

--Sylvia--

It snowed yesterday. I watched the flurries from the window of my tour bus. The silence that had settled over our band seemed to  finally lift and things were much more lighthearted. Ian was oblivious to my anger at him before and now that it's gone I'm glad I didn't fight with him. How was he to know what was going to happen? Still, the intense silent treatment I'd received gave me a reason to suspect they knew something I didn't remember. 

I'm alive, not pregnant and STD-less. I'm okay. So I guess I shouldn't be mad anymore. 

We have a show tonight. I hope my anxiety isn't too bad. 

***

Turns out, it's not. The show was canceled due to a severe snowstorm. We all drove to a hotel in the thickening blizzard and it took fifteen minutes for everyone to sort out the rooming arrangements. Two rooms per band. In my band, Ian and Meg bunked together, not sure what that means, and Cody and Mark took the other room. The thought of sharing a room and bed with either groups was not appealing. I trusted Mark and Cody, but Ian has tried things before. Meg knows this. Either way, I just said I would sleep in the bus and steal everyone's blankets. On the MIW bus, Chris and TJ and Ryan and Angelo took the hotel rooms. Ricky and Balz stayed back on their bus. 

The wind was seriously barreling against the windows and the snow was piling up, making the entire bus feel like a cave. It was cozy though, and I layered up in blankets like a burrito then lay on the couch and binge watched bob's burgers. 

There was a knock at the door and I froze. In that moment two scenarios ran through my head;

#1: There's an axe murderer here to kill me and rape my corpse. (The downpour was so thick that I could hardly see the hotel. If I was attacked or injured it was quite possible no one would find my body for hours.) Prepare to stab a mother fucker. 

#2: Someone I know is gonna walk in and see me looking like a beached whale. 

"It's me. It's Ricky. Can I come in?" I emerged from my cocoon and rushed to the door, glad I was still wearing pants. I opened the door and he stepped in. He was dressed like the void, as always, and was thoroughly coated in snow. I laughed because he looked like a crow who was assaulted by cotton balls. 

"Welcome to the cave of solitude. How may I help you?" I asked because I was in a good enough mood to brush away the awkward that usually radiates off me. He removed his coat.

"Can I stay here for a bit? Balz wanted to video chat with Ryan-Ashley and he kept giving me the 'please leave' look. I don't know what they're doing and I don't want to."

"So you decided to walk through a blizzard to come see me."

"I just didn't want to be around the other guys."

"Ya know, you could just say I'm not horrible company."

"You're not." he said quickly and did the lip licking thing. "This blizzard is really weird though, I think we've finally destroyed the earth. The snow will turn to hail and we'll all die. This is the end times." 

I nodded. "Yes, the end is most definitely near. And you're  welcome to hang out here. Have you ever seen Bob's Burgers?" He hadn't and since I'd listened to him talk about his favorite shows, it was my turn. Grey's Anatomy. The Walking Dead. Grimm. Sleepy Hollow. Adventure Time. The Office (which he already knew). Since I saw it on Netflix, I clicked on and gave a thorough in-depth explanation of my favorite movie. 

"It's called 'It's Such A Beautiful Day' and it's about a guy named Bill who has brain cancer. It basically show things from Bill's perspective as his illness gets worse and has all these epiphanies and Bill is a stick figure-pretty much everything is in stick figure drawing form. Um, it's really good." 

"Ookay." he said, obviously sold by my seductive explanation, "Let's watch." We only got about twenty minutes in when the TV disconnected. It really was the end times. I couldn't find the full film but did find other works by Don Hertzefldt, my favorite animator. We watched 'Rejected' on my little phone and just like he'd done before, he got really close so we could both see the little screen. Except now we were on a couch and his arm was wrapped around my waist. I rested my head on his shoulder. 

Half way through 'The Meaning of Life' I suggested it would be more conformable if we lay down, and that's how we ended up spooning on the couch in our cave in the belly of a snowstorm.