Fever Dream || Frank Iero

.1.

My eyes snapped open and I realized that there were hands grasped around my shoulders. "Hey dummy!" I squeezed my eyes back shut and grunted. "Get up! Today is the day!"

"Jess..." I groaned. "Five more minutes." I pulled the covers over my face and felt a pillow smack my protected head an instant later.

"We're getting on a bus, for three months, with my gorgeous boyfriend, and several other lovely candidates to possibly court you, lovely band-playing candidates, and you want five more minutes to sleep? There's no time to waste you lazy cow! Get UP!" She kicked the bedframe and I could tell her stubbed her toes on it, but she suppressed the moan of pain that threatened the inside of her lips. Stubborn girl.

"Jessica, this is the dumbest thing I've ever let you talk me into," I mumbled under the sheets. "You've known Pete for, how long, a few months? And a majority of those months he's been gone on tour. He could be serial killer who keeps body parts in his refrigerator. And as for someone to fucking court me, I-"

"A serial killer? I think that's a little far-fetched," A male voice came from the doorway.

"Wah-?" I snapped back the covers only to see Jessica's pretty-boy boyfriend standing in my doorway, arms folded and a cocky smirk painted across his stupid face. "Jessica get him out of here, I'm not wearing any pants."

"Oh, even better! My serial killer instincts always draw me towards pretty half-naked red heads." Pete smiled and inched towards my bed.

"Piss off, Pete," I dragged my covers back up to my chin and frowned, feeling uncomfortable. "You wanted me to wake up, I'm up. Now get out and let me get my shit together." Pete gave another stupid smirk and left the room. Sighing, I swung my legs over my bed and jumped down, cracking my toes.

After several long arguments, desires to pull my hair out and threats, I had finally agreed to join Jessica on her voyage through Pete's band's tour. After coincidentally losing my job the day after she asked me, I had no other excuse to stay. No boyfriend, no job, no school, no immediate family. Saying no would just suggest that I'm a reclusive hermit. I would never give Jessica that satisfaction.

Tugging my worn out jeans on, I looked out the window. The sun has barely even risen. Morning people must have sold their soul to someone. Several routine stretches later, I was in my bathroom staring into the mirror. Hot mess, I thought. I barely brushed my hair; I just more or less maintain it so I don't look as homeless. My hairstyle wasn't something you could exactly run your fingers through, but it's mine and I like it regardless. Fiery orange and red pieces stuck every which way, and I roughly dragged my fingers about it to make it more presentable. After throwing some makeup on, I gathered it all up and threw it in my travel bag to take with me.

Long, drawing sighs kept rushing out of me like a busted water pipe. I couldn't be blamed for dreading this. I was about to be thrown into a pit of sharks. Jessica, who, be my best friend, is still entirely different from me. A party girl, beautiful in the conventional way, who thinks a hummingbird on her ankle counts as an actual tattoo. Here I am, covered head to toe in tattoos, and always covered in some form of paint. She drinks her coffee with a straw and I smoke cigarettes. She goes to clubs, and I go to metal shows.

So of course one would think I'm excited to go on tour with a band, but there's too many other components of this situation that overshadow that one little intriguing detail. Trying to "set me up" with someone just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Jessica is good at getting boyfriends, despite how disposable they often are. I rarely date, especially after my last two-year encounter, which I'd rather save for another day.

I grabbed all my things off of my bed and dragged them into the kitchen where Jessica and Pete stood flirting with each other like love sick little kids. Rolling my eyes, I poured all the coffee I could fit into my travel mug and screwed the cap on. "You can't save that shit for when you aren't in my apartment?"

"Come on, Mel. I haven't seen him in forever. Besides, we have to go anyway. So there is no time for you to bitch, ok?" She flashed me the smile she uses to set boys' hearts on fire. "The bus is waiting for us a few minutes away, Pete drove his van up here to get us. This is going to be so much fun, please don't be a downer, ok?"

I let out a whimper paired with a pathetic smile and swung my backpack over my shoulder. What a long three months it was about to be.

"Whining isn't cute, Melissa," Pete retorted as I passed him.

"Neither is wearing teenage girls' pants, Pete," I spat, walking out the door to the van.