ONE SHOTS [CLOSED FOR NOW]

I Hate You - Jason Boland (Clean(ish))

Sorry for the *'s....

The music pounded in my bones making me close my eyes for a slight moment, imagining what it would be like to just be a song for a day. Yes, it was a stupid question, but my drunken state allowed me to think up questions much like these. I was glad that Kodaline requested a night out, because, quite honestly, being cramped up on a bus with all of them, plus the crew (which, by the way, consisted of only men), was tiring.

Now, I don't mean to sound conceded, but I received a lot of attention from the other men sitting in this bar, and I was deeply annoyed. I did tell Vincent that I was fine and I didn't need any looking after tonight and he didn't question me. After all, I was 21 and my birthday was two days ago. This was the first time I used my actual ID to get into the bar instead of using my fake ones that I had one of my friend's friend make. Right now, there was an idiot who was hitting on me, trying to pass me a shot of tequila. Normally, I would take the shot, bring him on the dance floor, and mess around, only to run off and disappear in the crowd, or tell them to meet me at this hotel address and not show up. Yes, it was cruel, but it was also a nice way to get drinks and not have to pay for them. Yes, it was sleazy, but honestly, they were pretty trashy by expecting sex out of one night and an alcoholic beverage.

Taking a sip from my beer after telling the nice and pathetic man that I didn't drink tequila (even though that was a total lie and it looked absolutely appetizing) I looked around to make sure that my Kodaline boys were okay. 

I was the tour manager's assistant, but since I was the youngest, that meant that I was to look after both my boss and his precious merchandise, which was Steve (of course), Vinny, Mark and Jason.

Vincent and I got along great together, and Mark and I liked to play card games when we got bored. He was also in the middle of teaching me some guitar since I had once admitted to him that I wished I had picked up an instrument when I was younger. Steve was like an older brother to me in many ways, mostly by keeping me away from Jason freakin' Boland, who, for some reason, hated the very breath that I exhaled.

I don't exactly remember why or how he could hate me so much, but every time I see him, he somehow always seemed to pick something about me that bothered him. Last month, it was my 'slutty' tank top, which he complained showed too much of my upper arm, to which I reminded him quite harshly that it was a fucking tank top. Your shoulders are supposed to be seen!

Last week, it was my hair, which he complained that it was too 'innocent' for me to be seen around with them and insisted that I got a haircut. Of course, my boss (Kodaline's tour manager: Joel) said he was being ridiculous, but looked me over before deciding that I should at least get a trim because of my split ends which Steve offered to do with a pair of kitchen shears from the bus.

Yesterday, Boland and I got in a fight, but it wasn't one of your average fights. It was the kind that most people hide from because me and Jason had both gotten into the habit of picking up any dispensable item around just to throw it at each other, and we both had ghastly aim and always ended up hitting some innocent bystander. It was normally Mark.

It started when Mark was sitting in the back lounge with me, teaching me some new chord progressions for some songs that I was interested in learning, when Jason strolled into the room. He took one look at me trying to play the guitar and snorted, rolling his eyes.

"You're teaching how to 'shred', Prender? She's already reached her maximum brain capacity by memorizing how Joel likes his coffee."

I thought by ignoring him, he'd stop there, but, of course, he didn't.

"Just letting you know, Dunkin Donuts isn't really my thing. I prefer Starbucks, but I know it's hard for you to remember, so I'll spell it out for you really slowly." Jason had sneered. "S-T-A-R-B-"