Celebrity Status (currently being revised to 1st person) Walk of Fame-- Book 1

Chapter Thirty Two

"I'll risk all of it to tell you,

To show you how I feel,

Just say those words I need to hear,

Tell me that it's real." - Bach's Revenge debut album, track 4

Lane climbed on the bed next to Sebastian. "We drew straws again today. To see who gets stuck with the job of trying to talk to you," he said. "I keep getting the short one. I've done the math and I've pulled the short straw every other day for the last three weeks. I think Sawyer is fixing it."

"Sucks to be you," Sebastian said, coolly, "sorry about that."

"Well it doesn't suck as much to be me as it does to be you, apparently. But Sawyer said if you don't at least shower and shave he'd kick your ass."

Sebastian shrugged. "Sawyer would never kick a man who is down."

"You'd have to be a man," Sawyer's voice carried through the bus. "As in taking it like a man, instead of some chick for that to count. I promise you I'll kick your ass if you don't pull it together for a few hours today."

"We have that interview on TV," Lane explained. "The boys are kind of worried you'll screw it up."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Right, cause I screw everything up."

"No," Lane said. "Because Charlie planted an emotional grenade inside your head the day you first told her you loved her and now it's blown up and you're a mess but that doesn't mean you need to look how you feel, okay?"

"It's not that bad. You're exaggerating."

Lane smiled. "I wish I was. Take it from me, there is not a single part of you right now that is remotely attractive."

Sebastian looked at his friend in mock horror. You love Sawyer, he mouthed so Sawyer couldn't hear him. "You clearly go against every stereotype for the gay man and must have no taste at all."

Lane raised his eyebrows. "Aww, you made a joke. That's a step in the right direction."

Sebastian rolled over. "Kiss my ass."

Lane pulled the blanket off of him and bolted from the room.

Sebastian stormed behind him. "Give me back the blanket."

"No," Lane said, defiant and proud. "I'm using it for yoga."

Sebastian huffed. "I hope you downward dog and slip and fall on your face."

"No," Lane said, "you don't. You hope the rest of the world can be as miserable as you are. Charlie dumped you. She broke your heart...again." He pointed a finger as he shrugged the blanket up further up his shoulder. "I promise you, Seabass, there are thousands of girls who would love to take her place but you need to pull it together."

Lane was probably right. He usually was. He needed to get over her. To stop thinking how her body felt, how her hair smelled, how her laugh sounded like the notes to his favorite song.

He scratched the side of his face.

"See," Sawyer said. "You're like a dog. A five o'clock shadow is alright but you're startin' to grow a pedo-beard which is socially unacceptable."

"Here," Robbie said, shaking a package. "I even went to the store and bought the most expensive razor I could find," he pulled the device from the bag and held it up and pointed to the label. "See. That's a sophisticated man right there."

Sebastian looked at the picture. Apparently, the razor in question, The Slayer, was represented an outdated looking man with an ascot. Despite his constant foul mood, Sebastian laughed because the guy did not look like he'd be slaying anyone. "He's a real badass," Seb noted.