That Thing You Do! (Multiband Fan Fic)

Chapter 10 - Moving Forwards

Katie's P.O.V

I followed Dylan out our room and down the wooden steps to a grassy patch, in the car park.
It was a bit cold, and I was only wearing my pyjamas, which consisted of Guns N Roses pyjama pants and a black over sized Rolling Stones t-shirt.
My hair was tied back and my sleep mask was on top of my head. I was so tired, but looking at Dylan... He was awake.
Wearing black leather pants, with a black tank top on. His hair was all straight, with his signature red bandana around his head. Dylan always wore a bandana for some reason. I'm not going to judge, but I will say he made it look so epic!

He stopped on the grass and lit a cigarette.
I stood, maybe, two steps away from him, waiting for something to happen.

"Are you alright?" I asked him, when I realised he wasn't going to speak - Just smoke...
"Our stage show..." He stood facing the road, cigarette hanging in his mouth, his hands in his pant pockets.
"What about it?" I asked him, wrapping my arms around myself.
"Stevie will be on the drums, but you and I will be out there..." He started. He turned his face, now looking at me, but not moving. "We need to do something... You can do roly-polies?" He asked me.
"Well, yeah..." I walked up to him. "When I was younger..." I shrugged.
"Show me..." He whispered.

The town was quiet. It was a calm night and the stars were really shining. Dylan woke me up, at almost three AM, just to do roly-polies...?
"Now?" I asked, looking around.
"Monroe, you give me the impression that you have social anxiety. You're not going to do this during the day, so yes, now." Dylan got me and he got me good.
"OK... Yeah..." I confessed.

I was never good at talking to people. I've always had either Kirk or Vikki with me, but now I'm out on my own. I also get stage fright, but I'll save that one for later...

"You can do them too, right?" I asked Dylan.
"Yeah, but I need to see that you can do them... I won't feel so stupid." He chuckled, honestly.
I smiled and nodded.
I walked to the edge of the grass and took a breath, walking fast towards Dylan, before crouching and rolling myself over, landing just in front of him.
"Reckon you can do that with a guitar?" Dylan asked me, looking down at me.
"Probs." I nodded. It went smoothly. I could try it, at least.
"Good. Do it again... I'm going to try along side you, then maybe, once we get that right, we'll try and pass each other. Once we do that, we'll practice on different surfaces, then with our guitars." Dylan suggested, heading to the edge of the grass.
I nodded and we spent the next few hours practicing just what he said.

With bruises and grass stains, crashes and bashes, we headed back to our room, when we saw the sun start to rise.
Stevie was still asleep. He had no clue we had left.
I smiled at Dylan and he smiled at me.
"I'm gonna hop in the shower. You go back to bed." He pushed me, gently, towards the bed.
"OK... Again, tomorrow?" I asked him, crawling up the bed and under the duvet, watching as he walked into the bathroom, once he shut the front door.
"Yeah. Same again." He smiled, looking back at me.
I smiled back at him and moved my sleep mask back over my eyes, lying down, under the duvet, next to Stevie.

. . .

We decided to spend three nights in Ohio to look for a bass player or singer. As Dylan and I woke up late, we spent the first day just lounging, talking about the music and our sound. I was very excited.

The second day I called Kirk. Unexpected move, but I've found myself thinking about him a lot, since I've been out here. He was really glad to hear from me and we talked for three hours straight. I eventually ran out of quarters, so we had to end our talk. The second I hung up, I realised just how much I missed him.
Day three, with no luck on any musicians or singers, we decided to just go. Dylan paid for our stay, conning the owner into some money off, so we could grab some food before we hit the motorway.

Our next stop was Stevie's house. He called his parents and told them. They couldn't wait to see us. We were on our way to the market street, which consisted of a shit ton of stalls, run by the locals, trying to earn some decent cash.

"What about relationships, then? Either of you two seeing anyone?" Dylan asked us, as he parked the minibus at the end of the street.
"Nope! I've nev'r 'ad a serious girl b'fore..." Stevie started up, climbing out the van.
"Surprise, surprise." Dylan mumbled, snickering at me.
I hit his arm, smiling, before we both climbed out. "Why not, Stevie?" I asked my cousin, as we crossed the road.
"No one I liked... All girls were fake." Stevie rolled his eyes.
"I prefer blondes. The girly kind." Dylan told us. "Last girlfriend broke up with me, for the lead singer of my old band."
"Damn, that sucks." I spoke up, as we walked in a single file line.

This place was packed. Dylan led the way, pushing us through the crowds, stopping at a fruit stall.
"Berries!" Stevie cheered, grabbing what he desired.
"Monroe?" Dylan asked.
"Nah, I'm good for fruit. I can smell bagels, though..." I placed my hand on Dylan's shoulder, standing on my tip toes, to see if I could locate where the smell was coming from.
"I'm mean, do you have a boyfriend?" He asked me, placing a hand on my waist to hold me steady.
Dylan was purely like a brother to me. We both knew it would never go any further, so get it out your heads.

"Oh, no. No boyfriend. No girlfriend." I shook my head at him, shrinking back to my natural height.
"Girlfriend? Are you-"
"Bisexual." I told him. "I saw a picture of WWE's Paige and started to question myself, a few years ago. Everyone was very accepting." I told him.
"Oh, right. Well, yeah. I'm not against. As long as you're happy." Dylan smiled at me.
"Thanks, man." I smiled back. "Stevie, let's get bagels!" I called out to my cousin, as he paid for the fruit.
"Bagels?!" He turned to us like a meerkat spying danger.