Run Away From The Pain

I'm Back

My eyes flutterted open, only to be greeted by streaks of morning light, shining through the blinds, pooling around on the floor. 
Birds were chirping, and I somewhere in the distance... or behind a closed door, someone was softly  strumming an acoustic.

I sat up, and stretched, taking in my surroundings. 
I was in the back, bedroom of the tour bus, which was roughly the size of a shoebox. 
Though it wasn't much, I was entirely grateful that the boys each gave up sleeping in their, so I could have a place to rest my head, at night. 
Steven was especially fond of sleeping there, considering the couch gave him neck aches, but he told me he would gladly give it up, if I wanted to sleep there.

I was lying on a tiny mattress, with pillows piled up all around me. 
There was a tiny clock, and a lamp resting on a small bedside table, just to the right of the bed. 
The clock read out; 7:14.

I yawned and rolled out of bed, and over to the small door which lead out to the rest of the bus. 
I quickly flicked my long hair up into a pony tail, and I put on my large slippers. 
I opened the door and shuffled out to the little booth, where Joe was sitting, strumming away at his acoustic. 
I sat opposite of him, and put my head down on the table between us, yawning like crazy.

"Well good morning, sunshine." He chuckled. "Why are you up so early?"

"I should be asking you the same thing..." I yawned.

"Couldn't sleep." He muttered, plucking some strings. 

"Hmm.." I muttered, watching him. 
He must've noticed, because a small smirk grew on his face.

"You play?" He asked, shoving the guitar in my hands. 

"Nah," I muttered, cradling the smooth wood of the neck, in my hands. I plucked out a small tune I can recall learning when I was younger; about a year or so before I was taken. As my right hand plucked the correct strings, my left hand slid up and down the neck of the guitar, landing on each fret, allowing the notes to sound through the bus. I realized I was playing an older Rolling Stones tune... "Not really."

"Gimme Shelter?" Joe grinned wildly. "You're not so bad, for a kid who doesn't really play." 

I shrugged, and started fucking around with the frets, plucking out simple random notes and chords.
The tune I was creating was more of a western sound; it reminded me of cowboys.
Watching me very intently, Joe's eyes grew wide.

"Wait! Stop!" He called out, startling me. "Play that again!" 
I ran my fingers across the neck again, replaying whatever it was I just did. 

Joe's 'O' shaped mouth, grew into a large grin. 
He got up to rummage around the bus for a bit, grabbed a pen and whatever scraps of paper were lying around the bus, and the sat back down in his place, right across from me. 
He began to scribble some words down, stopping occasionally to chew on the cap of the pen.
After a couple of minutes, he looked up from the paper and grinned at me wickedly. 

Just then, Steven rolled off the couch, and hit the ground with a large thud. 
I stopped playing, and peeked over my shoulder to see what just happened.
"Shit! Who...Wha-" He was looking around him, wide-eyed, trying to catch his surroundings. "Fucking couch." He muttered under his breath, while rubbing his sore neck. 
He strolled over to the booth, and popped a squat next to Joe, looking over his shoulder at the paper.

"Shit, Joe," He yawned. "Those are good... You come up with those by yourself?"

"Yeah," He smiled, obviously proud of himself. "But Alex, here, came up with the riff that goes along with it.... Go on... Play it!"

I rolled my eyes playfully, and began to play the simple riff I came up with. 
I never took my eyes off Steven's chocolate pools, as his expression changed from disbelief, to excitement. 

"Looks like we've got the start to a new album." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "And, damn Alex, you never told us you could play!"

"Because, I can't..." I muttered, looking down at the laquered wood of the frame, resting in my lap. 

"Yeah," He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And I'm not the most desired human being on the face of the planet." 

"Did you eat alot of paint chips as a child?" I chuckled. "You've got a big ego." 

"All apart of the package, baby." Steven grinned, and stood up from the booth, stretching 

"Is......that... apart of it too?" I tried to stiffle my laughter as his morning wood was completely visible through his boxers. 
He looked down, and then back up to me, his face heating up to an unbelievable degree, as his blood flushed his cheeks. 

"Mmmmmhm." He smirked, and then strolled into the small bathroom we have on the bus, which was right next to the bedroom. 
I chuckled, and then stood up, yawning.

"I think I'm gonna try and get another hour or two, of sleep." I sighed. "Do you mind if I take the bed, again?"

"Not at all... just get there before Steven does." He laughed. 
I turned on my heel, and shuffled to the back of the bus, passing the racks of bunk beds hidden in the walls, where Brad, Joey, and Tom were all sound asleep. 

I walked through the door of the bedroom, and landed face first on the bed, with a small groan. 
I curled up into a ball under the sheets, and burried my face in a pillow. 
I drifted slowly in between consciousness, and a fuzzy state. 
A while later, I felt a body plop down right next to me... or on top of my, rather. 

I sat up with a jolt, and stared at the mess of curly brown hair, stairing at me in shock.

"Alex! I had no idea you were in here! Shit!" He looked bewildered "I'm sorry!"
He began to scramble to get off the bed, but I placed my hand on his arm, assuring him that it was okay.
He calmed down, enough to lie back down on the bed, and take a deep breath. 
I laid back down as well, resting my head inches from his chest. 
Eventually, I flipped around, so my back was facing him, and moments after I did just that, his arm wrapped around my waist, slightly pulling me towards him.

This small action, usually would've scared the shit out of me, but I felt fine... It felt.... normal.