Colors Always Bleed Together [DUFN]

Chapter Two: Headlights

Ryan's Pov

I slip on a gray shirt as I start to wonder about the night ahead. It's the first concert I've had in quite a while. I can't shake the feeling that I'll screw up somehow. I always seem to feel like this before a performance, and it all washes away the moment I step up on stage. I hope that the same will happen today.

Someone knocks on my bedroom door, "Are you naked?" Zach asks in a monotone voice.

I pull up my pants in a hurry and zip them. "Not anymore."

Zach Filkins walks in. "You about ready for the show?" He questions, "Because we might not get to rehearse if we don't leave soon."

"All right, I'm coming." I assure. "Just let me grab something really quick."

He nods and leaves the room as quickly as he came. He screams through the door, "I'm giving you five minutes, Tedder, until I drag you out here by your ear!"

I open the drawer on the nightstand. Inside, there are a few sheets of paper. I take them out and look at the first one, laying the other two on my temporary bed.

I hold it in front of myself carefully. I don't want to rip it if I can keep from it.

The first page is full of notes. Music notes and chords telling me exactly how to play the song in my head on piano. I have it mapped out to the last key, taking hours upon hours to perfect it.

This particular song is one I never plan on sharing with the public. Hell, I won't even share it with the band. It's personal, for my ears and eyes only; and I intend to keep it that way.

The next page is covered in scribbled out ideas and faded ink. I meant to throw it away a while ago, but I just never did. While I'm thinking about it, I crimple it up and try to chuck it into the trashcan by the door.

Unfortunately, I threw it as Zach walked back through the door - missing the can completely and hitting Zach square in the middle of the face. He jumps, his face priceless.

I hold in a laugh, which is incredibly hard with the look on his face. My friend and fellow band member stares daggers into me. "You waited for five minutes for me to come back so you could do that, didn't you?"

"At least I was thinking about you." I give a huge, fake grin so large that I have to close my eyes.

Zach throws it back at me and grabs me by the ear. He wasn't kidding.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Zach! Let go! Ow!" I shout and blindly follow him, afraid he'll rip my ear off if I don't. Several "Ow"s and minutes yanking on my ear later, Zach lets go. Once he does, we're outside the hotel and near my car. I rub my ear. "How many times do I have to say "ow" before you let go?"

"As many as it takes before I drag you to your car. Speaking of, can I have a ride up there and come back with the band?"

I agree, as I usually always do. Knowing Zach, and basically every other member of the band, they would complain until I changed my mind. Except for Brent, he would probably just walk away.

On the drive there, Zach puts his feet up on the dash and his hands behind his head as he lays back and relaxes. I, on the other hand, am nervous and singing along to. . . well, myself as I try to get these songs perfect, I don't think I'm doing that bad. Still, I can't help but to shake a little when I pull into the parking lot.

I step out and makes his way behind stage in a hurry. Zach follows.

Someone pushes us toward the stage. Eddie. "Where have the two of you been?! We were supposed to start a few minutes ago!"

"We were?" Zach and I reply at the same time, Zach adding, "I blame Ryan's slow driving," at the end.

I punch him in the side of the arm. "I told you we'd be late if we didn't hurry!" I joke. Zach mocks me.

Eddie takes his drumsticks out of his back pocket. "While you two point fingers over who's fault it is, we're going to start. If you two don't decide to come out soon. The refunds are coming out of your pockets." He says with utmost certainly.

"What makes you so sure about that?" I ask with a smile.

"Hey, I'm doing my job." He states on the defense and walks back out onto the stage.

I take a moment to fix my hair before I step out into the stage, Zach right behind me. The crowd screams and cheers, anxious for us to start. The only people not cheering are the security guards, ourselves, and the parents that volunteered to take their kids to this performance - more than likely without knowing what they have gotten themselves into.

I look around at the audience. How many are there, I wonder. Hundreds? Thousands? It seems like the entire world has come just to watch us. I find that a blessing in itself.

As I finish up my look at the crowd, I spot a woman. Even in the darkness, her eyes light up brighter than the stars.

I smile to myself but try to hide it, slipping the ring off my finger and shouting, "Who wants this?"

Every hand goes up as the cheering gets louder. My eyes glint back to the woman I saw earlier. She has her hands up as well, just not as high.

I toss it in her direction, hoping nobody tackles her for it or something. She catches it with ease.

I look to Zach, who has his guitar on and ready to play. "Ready?" I ask.

"As I'll ever be." The guitarist replies, starting to strike the cords to "Oh My My".

And the next few hours pass before I can blink.

* * *

Drew and Brent silently load the instruments into the van they hauled then in. Zach calls shot gun and races Eddie to the passenger seat. Zach beats him there, laughing evilly in his face as he opens it and sits down. Eddie throws a drumstick at him.

I make my way to my car, alone this time. With Zach gone, I plan on driving back slowly, taking the long route.

I start the engine, putting it into drive. He waits for the others to leave and follows them out.

They turn to the left, toward the hotel as soon as they reach the main highway. I turn right, choosing to explore the city and all it's bright lights,

Illuminated skyscrapers and other smaller buildings make the night as clear as the daytime. I smile as I see them. Our hotel was on the outskirts, but this. . . this is the big city I've heard so much about.

So this is Knoxville. It's brighter than he imagined it. And warmer too.

I turn up the radio, "Something's Gotta Give" starts playing through the speakers. I resist the urge to turn it off or change CDs, feeling horrible that I'm listening to myself and not someone else. I extinguish the feeling when I try to forget that I'm singing and focus on my friends making the real music.

Smiling, I take a deep breath. Nights like this are what make life worth living.

The roads aren't that crowded something out of the ordinary for large cities. And seeing it's night, I wonder where I can pick up something to eat. I'm starving.

I continue to drive and take in the sights. For a major city, it's a little on the small side. The people seem to be friendly enough. Maybe I could buy a vacation home here.

Giving up on searching for an open restaurant, I decide to head back to the hotel. One of the guys has probably cooked something partly edible by now.

I stop at the crossroad connected to the highway. Seemingly, I have my chance to turn off with a large enough gap in between cars. So I do.

But there wasn't a gap; there was a jet black car with no headlights.

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I have worked out something that I don't really think you would call a "schedule". I'm going to update a chapter every time I finish a chapter. For example; I just finished Chapter Three, so I'm updating Chapter Two.

Anyways, I'm going to go work on Chapter Four now.