What Ever Happen To Holding Me Close And Never Letting Go? [completed]

I Need Some Balance In My Ears Right Now

"Name."

"Meedie Valentine."

"Date of birth."

"86."

I fidget in my seat while the lady rings up my birth certificate. Currently, I'm getting my passport made. Thought the experince to come is fun, I feel like this lady has no life. Sam, Ben, and Cameron are on the other side signing autographs at the few fans that notice them. Me? Well, I'm jus waiting to get this over with.

The lady types in some more stuff before asking me a couple more questions.

"Nationality?" She asks in her accent while pushing her glasses up her face.

"English." She looks at me weird. LIke I said 'Satan.'

"You mean British?"

"No. My nationality is not British. It's English. I'm from Sheffield." She nods her head and goes back typing.

"Are you miss Iris Meredith Valentine." I nod my head as she pulls out a little book from a box and writes something on it before pressing it in a printer thing.

I think.

"Okay, I'm going to ask you some questions. These questions will determine if you are a citizen of the United Kingdom." I nod. "Who is our lead authority of the United Kingdom?"

"Uh, Queen Elizabeth the second right?" She  nods and types something else in.

"Driving age for a motorcyle and legal driving age of car or van?" I tap my fingers while trying to think. I really should've paid more attention in school.

"For a motorcycle, it's 16? And for car or a van it's 17." She nods and I sit up straight, feeling proud.

"Legal age to buy alcohol beverages." I cough and start laughing. No one, I'm pretty sure of it, no one drank at the legal age. Ha! Not even Americans do that!

I stare up at the cieling while really trying to think. I know that at home, anyone from 5-17 can drink under a paren'ts permission, but buying alcohol? Oh.

"Uhm. 18 I think." Gosh. I'm horrible. Here I am claiming to being an UK citizen and yet, I'm guessing about everything.

The lady looks me in the eye and I kinda stare back. She nods and types something else in. I breathe a huge sigh of relief. She takes out a stamp and slams it on the black book before handing it to me.

"Congrats. You have a passport." I thank her before rushing out of there.

I trip on my foot and fall to the clean, shiny floor of the airport and end up sliding on my stomach and landing right in front of Cam's feet. My passport goes flying, hitting what I believe is, Ben in the face.

"Uh, having fun down there mate?" I let my eyes travel up and glare at Cameron.

"Keep it up and I'll kill you in your slep tonight." He puts his hands up in defense. Someone helps me up and I brush the dirt off my pants and reajust my sweater. I grab my passport and hold it up. They all scream and cheer, making quite a few people stare at us.

"Gosh, I'm such a horrile citizen of this country." I say as we leave the airport.

"How so?"

"I forgot nearly every question she asked me. She even gave me the eye look." They all start staring at me. I flip them off and we drive in silence. When we get to the house, no one was there except James.

Who was hugging a pillow and crying.

When he sees us he screams at us about 'being the only ones.' and what not and tells us all to go to hell. The boys look at each other weird and I just shrug my shoulders and walk towards him.

"James, what's wrong?" He looks at me, just like the lady did, as if I said "I had buttsex with Satan. Oh, plus, I was bottoms.' He wipes his tears and laughs.

"Everyone thinks I'm a fucking dickhead because I play the drooms." I know he didn't say 'drooms' but he might as well. Their accent still sounds weird to me. While mine is thick their's is-wait, back to James.

"James, you're not a dickhead. And I think that it's cool that you play the drooms." He looks at me and shakes his head.

"Not funny mate." I frown.

"Who called you a dickhead?" I ask while changing the subject.

"This girl, I was walking in town and she asked me who I was. I told her. James Cassells. Drummer for Asking Alexandria. And she started laughing. Her and he friends. It was as if, everyone was laughing at me. She said no one goes for drummers." He hugged the pillow even tighter and started crying again.

"Hey, drummers are awesome." He looked at me.

"Really? How?" He said all sarcastic like.

"Andy Oliver is an amazing drummer. Mike Fuentes, Nicholls, Austin Thornton, Gabe, Tino and you. You guys are all amazing. I bet if it were Mike, they would be all over him. Drummers are amazing and talented and you James, have nothing to worry about. The right girl will be there holding drum sticks and a bag of weed." He laughed at this.

"Thanks. I really needed that. I'm sorry about shutting you out." I shrug my shoulders.

"It's whatever." Before he could reply we heard Sam's shouts. James hugs the pillow tighter.

"What the fuck mate!!!" He came down the stairs, looking pissed.

"Sam, what's wrong?"

"Someone went in my room and took my plane tickets!" And that got Cameron mad.

"Dude! You know how much money I spent for that and you loose it?!" He throws his hands up in the air.

"Oh grow up, it's not like I said "hey, let's lose two tickets to America. Cause my girlfriend doesn't need to see Tonight Alive.'" He glares at Cameron.

"Who was in the house when we left?"

"Danny was. That was all I think." Sam laughs.

"Oh, Danny is so getting a face full of bullshit tonight." Sam goes upstiars and slams the door shut. We all flinch and look at one another.

"Why would Danny do that?" I ask. Everyone shrugs their shoulders. I just went though basic interigation for nothing.

"Sam can't be mad at Danny for too long though." Ben pipes in.

"Why?"

"We have a little show to do tonight. And is Same is still pissed while on stage, Danny will get mad about him messing up the show and-"

"World War Three will break loose. Trust me, when Danny gets pissed, especially while drunk, it's not going to end well." James drops the pillow.

And I have a feeling it won't. Not at all.