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The band and crew were staying in a hotel that night. Even though they were in their hometown, they had to get on the bus super early in the morning and it was just easier if they were all in the same place and no one had to commute or anything like that.
After much argument with Mick, Mel finally scored herself a room of her own. He'd wanted to room with her, but she'd argued that she wanted to take a bath and watch a bunch of sappy movies that he'd hate. He'd finally agreed but had insisted on taking the room right next to her, which was totally fine with her.
The bath and sappy movies were bullshit, of course. As soon as she was settled into the room and had taken a shower to wash tour off of her as best she could, she used the phone in the room to call to the only other room number she'd made a mental note to remember.
"Yeah?" Joey's voice answered after a couple of rings and he sounded tired.
"Joe? It's Mel," she told him, and he chuckled.
"I was just about to call you," he told her, making her chuckle too.
"You wanna... come over?" she asked, and he made a small noise in the back of his throat.
"Of course."
He hung up the phone and not five minutes later, there was a knock on her door. She opened it for him, raising a finger to her lips and pointing to the room Mick was in a few feet away. He nodded, smiling as he stepped into the room.
She shut the door behind him, taking in his freshly-washed appearance. She didn't see him often like this; his long hair was hanging in loose damp waves around his face and there wasn't a stitch of greasepaint or eyeliner on his face, leaving his bright blue eyes almost lighter than normal. The smell of a fruity shampoo wafted off of him and she smiled at him, the plan she'd already halfway had upon calling him forming into a full thing as she looked at him.
"Are you okay?" he asked, clearly still concerned from the scene outside the venue.
"Yeah. I mean, I'm still fucked up over it. I'll probably always be fucked up over it but somehow I do feel powerful, like I have something back," she told him, repeating the sentiment she'd made earlier. He nodded, seeming to relax a little bit.
"So, do you wanna watch a movie or something? We could order room service," he asked, and she nodded.
"Yeah, maybe later," she said, and he cocked his head, an eyebrow raised.
"What do you want to do now then?" he asked, and she smiled. Instead of answering him, she closed the few-steps gap that was between them and reached up to put a hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes at her touch, leaning into her.
"Joe," she whispered, and his eyes opened again. He'd clearly at least partially caught on to her plan because his previously clear and bright eyes had clouded over with something else, something thicker and darker. "You... you're my best fucking friend, you know that?" she questioned, and he nodded slightly.
