°•B∆STILLE one shots•°

ONLY HUM∆N

He felt terrible.

A groggy and decidedly  grumpy Dan Smith dragged his feet through the open door of the studio,  forcing himself to be polite as he was directed toward the couch where  their interview was about to be held. The grinning, overexcited host  took a seat opposite, and Kyle tumbled down onto the couch beside him,  readjusting his beanie for the camera.

"Welcome, welcome," the brunette started, gathering her papers as they went live, "it's so nice to have you back here."

"We're happy to be here,  thanks for having us," Dan cracked a smile, folding his arms, and  silently prayed that Kyle would carry the weight of the interview, as  his head was pounding.

Catching a cold hadn't  been on his weekend agenda, but then neither had being caught in the  rain yesterday while waiting for the bus.

"So, you boys just played Bestival this past weekend," the host beamed, "how was that?"

"Ah, it was wicked,"  Kyle nodded, "we almost got rained out, but other than that, it was  pretty great, I mean, we all dressed up and had some dancing lobsters on  stage – can it get any more exciting than that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I saw the  clips from the show," the host laughed, turning toward Dan, very  obliviously waiting for his side of the story, and he tried to keep his  smile.

"Yeah, uh, it was good, I think..."

One question down, another five hundred to go. Please go. Go.

"Got any plans for the weekend? Are you playing any gigs?"

"We've got one tonight,  yeah," Dan pulled a hand through his hair, leaning back as the world  seemed to move with him, "we're playing a small acoustic set at a pub we  used to go to when we were first starting out. It's pretty nostalgic."

"Oh nice, bet it'll be great."

Please hurry up.

He tried to look  interested, nodding along to questions, trying to piece thoughts  together when they were directed at him, and by the time they'd wrapped,  he felt like he'd been hit by a bus.

"Thanks for your time," the host smiled cheerfully.

"It was great, thanks,"  Dan rose from the couch, struggling to his feet, but the change in  gravity suddenly pulled him back, and he leaned against the wall to  catch his balance.

"Whoa, you alright  there, Danny?" Kyle held out a hand to steady him, concern flashing in  his brown eyes, and Dan inched his way along the wall until they'd  exited the studio.

"Yeah," he muttered, "fine."

"You don't look very good, though."

"Thanks."

"No, seriously," Kyle  followed him like a lapdog, almost tripping over lighting cables and  running over assistants as they were shown out of the radio building,  meeting Will and Woody at the coffee shop across the street.

Woody had built a tower  out of sugar sachets and had just finished it off with a plastic spoon  when Dan slumped down at the table, dragging his hands over his face.

"How was the interview?"  Woody asked without looking up, green eyes entirely focussed on his  creation, and Will was looking it over like a judge, stroking his beard  thoughtfully.

"The usual."

"Nice," Will nodded, peering at the tower from behind a pair of glasses, "I'd say... an eight out of ten, Wood."