Meteora - Remastered

.5

Surprise mfs
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"This ain't taco."

I looked at him from my taco. It's grease was dripping from my fingers.

"Looks enough taco to me." I said, stuffing some more taco in my mouth.

Jesse gave me, or my taco, a disgusted look. He stuffed some fries into his mouth.

"No, dude. This is just greasy tortilla, and some weird greasy meat. You don't put fucking cheese on it," He stopped to swallow. "Or tomatoes. Not even lettuce!"

"...but it's delicious."

He sipped from his coke and stole some of my remaining fries.

"It's not even spicy."

"No, no. It doesn't mean it's not a real taco. It means I don't like spice in my fucking taco."

"Hmm. Fair enough." He licked his long, boney fingers. And then pointed at me.

"Next time. Next time I'll take you to a real Mexican place so you won't have to eat this shit anymore." He laughed. So did I.

"My mom would be so sad if I stop eating her tacos, though." I cleaned my hand with couple of napkins.

"Then take her to that place we'll be at next time." He was leaning back on his chair, arm slung, and legs parted. He always looked like a cowboy. He was missing a hat at the moment, probably chose not to wear when driving his motorbike.

Yeah lads. You heard me. A fucking motorbike.

Now, I have no idea about the models of cars and motorbikes or whatever but. Hear me out. His motorbike looked almost like Jax's motorbike. Do the math, gays. He is actually in a MC.

"You wanna come to the concert tonight? I heard some underground emo punks were coming." He said, breaking the silence.

"Underground emo punks. That sounds like me."

"No, you're...oh no. You're an underground emo punk, too." He gave me a loud laugh, a few started at him. I guess no one liked a loudmouthed-cowboy-looking-gang member.

"Anyway. Heard they were good." He sipped his last coke and burped. "I'll text them the band's name so you can at least come to the concert knowing a few songs, yeah?"

"Uh-huh. Do we even have tickets? I don't wanna break my ass again because of slippery bathroom tiles."

"How the fuck was I suppose to know bathroom's water pipe was busted? My plan just worked fine."

"It worked only for you. I couldn't sit for two whole fucking weeks."

"Fine. I am so sorry for your fragile arse, sixth prince of the Great Britain." He faked a British accent while laughing. Motherfucker.

"How many princes are in that family?"

He stretched and got up.

"Fuck if I know," He kept his accent. "C'mon. Gotta go."

"Sooo. Where you wanna go?" He asked, voice muffled by his helmet.

"How destroyed is your place?" I asked while sitting behind him and wearing my helmet.

"Mmmm. Not much. We can hang at my place till the concert, I guess. Then I'll drop you off to your place to get read?"

"Nah. Got my everything here. Mind if I borrow one of your shirts tho?"

"You're already wearing one. Why asking?"

I wrapped my arms around his waist, he winked at me as he started his motorbike.