Prank Calls | D.R.

Chapter 1

Chance's POV

     "This is a bad idea," I whisper to Michael. He looks back over at me with a slight smile on his face.

     "It's completely fine," he assures me as if nothing bad is going to come out of this. He is completely wrong. I know it. Drew knows it. The world knows it.

      "It's not fine if you're barely old enough to do it, and you can't even do it in the US," I scold him. He shrugs in response.

     "It wasn't my idea. It was Drew's," he pats my back, still walking forward.

      "Of course Drew would want to go clubbing. Michael, you're 18, and both Drew and I are 20. We should go back to the hotel," I suggest. Michael looks back at me now.

     "I told Drew I'd go with him, and I'm keeping my word. I promise I won't touch a drink. You can go if you want," Michael turns his head and keeps walking in attempt to catch up to Drew. I jog after him.

     "You know Drew is going to leave you in there alone," I tell him, and he shakes his head.

     "He won't this time," Michael says in attempt to convince me, but I'm not feeling it. If he's done it everywhere else, why wouldn't he now?

     "Just like he won't play his whole 'I'm Drew Ramos. Give me everything' game," I roll my eyes, and Michael hits my arm.

     "Cut him some slack," he remarks, making me scoff.

      "We've been cutting him slack for months now. Doesn't it bother you that he comes back to wherever we're staying practically every night with a new girl on his arm?" I bring it up. Michael winces and scrunches up his nose.

     "You guys used to be best friends Chance. What happened?" Michael asks in his best attempt to be casual.

     "Do you not see how he thinks he's better than the rest of us? He treats us like we're nothing at all and disregards us. We're just pawns in his fame game Michael. All he ever does is get in fights, get drunk, sleep around, and expect us to pick up after him. It's only been six months since the band was formed. Aren't you scared of what's going to happen in another six months?" I retort, going off on a rant. Michael looks down.

      "He has changed in the past six months," he murmurs to himself.

     "Can you two hurry up? We're not getting any younger here!" Drew spits, rolling his eyes.

     "See," I gesture to Drew. Michael sighs and walks over there with me. Drew walks over to the bouncer and to the front of the line.

     "What are you doing sir?" the broad, muscular guy asks. He is wearing all black, a thick leather jacket hugging his arms. Facial hair coats below his nose.

     "Going to my spot, the front of the line," Drew smirks. I look at Michael.

      "I'll go get him. You can go wait in line," I sigh. Michael nods and walks to the other side. I take long strides over to Drew.

     "I'm sorry, but you need to wait in line like everyone else," the bouncer sighs, obviously already being tired of people like this.

      "You don't understand. I'm Drew Ramos, the Drew Ramos. I'm not going to wait in line with those common folk," Drew pushes the bouncer, but he doesn't move. I reach Drew as quickly as I can.

       "I'm sorry sir. I'll just take my friend here, and we'll be on our way," I grab Drew's shoulders, but he attempts to shrug me off before elbowing me in the stomach.