CJ tapped her foot along with a Cex album called Maryland Mansions. It was a trippy combination of hard rock and street beats, and it made her skin goose pimple when she listened to it while sipping in a cold lungful of mango-flavored smoke from LP�s hookah. Right now, though, it still moved her shoulders and made her hips sway. It had been a very hot day on the Warped Tour, and neither CJ nor LP had any friggin� idea what city they were in now. It wasn�t their job to know. That was more the kind of information Ryan or Benji or Joel would have to know. Drummers just didn�t concern themselves with such things.
LP looked down at the sweat pooling in the small of CJ�s back as the both of them laid on the grass in a patch of shade shielding them from the late-afternoon sun. LP had lost his shirt somewhere between the stage and the beer stand at which he�d met CJ. He was quite sure he had tucked it into the back of his shorts, but someone must have grabbed it in the crowd. CJ hadn�t even bothered finding a clean shirt this morning to put on. She�d worn just a sports bra all day because the humidity and heat had never let up from the day before. LP rested his chin in his hand as he lay at a 90 degree angle to CJ, his head near her shoulder. Every now and again she would shift and the damp skin of her shoulder would brush against his forehead. �Goddamn, it�s hot,� CJ grumbled. �I like this CD, LP. You have the most eclectic music collection I�ve ever seen.�
LP grinned at her, wiping away the sweat his brow had left on her shoulder with his rough palm. �Eclectic. Breaking out the college words.�
�Shut up,� CJ responded. �Don�t touch me,� she added, something along the lines of a pout on her face because the heat was making her cranky.
�Why can�t we go in your bus?� LP asked, knowing that the Good Charlotte bus would be air conditioned and lacking in the sticky humidity that plagued them. The AC in the Yellowcard van was currently on the blink, and beyond that, the thing reeked.
�Because, LP, my band�s in there and they don�t like you.�
�Uh huh.� He reached into his bag as he listened to her.
�But I do, so I gotta brave the goddamn heat just to hang out.�
�That�s so interesting,� LP replied distractedly. CJ felt something cool on her back, sliding down her spine towards the edge of her pants. She looked back over her shoulder and saw the mottled skin of Sharon, one of LP�s snakes as its forked tongue flicked out of its mouth and lapped at the sweat cupped in the small of her back.
�Holy Christ!� She whispered and froze, not flipping out the way he had assumed she would. He had kept a firm grip on Sharon, to pull her away once CJ reacted, but now it seemed his caution had been unfounded.
�She likes you, CJ,� LP cooed, a bleached tip of his hair falling forward into his face as he dipped his head to look up into her face.
�Get that thing off of me,� she whispered, as though anything more would set the snake off and it would coil around her neck and strangle her to death.
�Sharon�s not a thing, and she�s offended now.�
�LP,� she whispered though grit teeth, closing her eyes and expelling a long, slow breath. �If you don�t get that� Sharon off of me, I swear to God I will kill you in your sleep.�
�That means you�ll be watching me sleep?� LP raised his eyebrows.
�LP,� she growled, her fists clenching, warning him of the wrath that would be unleashed as soon as he removed the snake. That did, of course, just make him want to leave Sharon right where she was. But, being the gentleman he was, he couldn�t leave CJ in agony for too long.
�All right, all right.� He placed Sharon back in his bag and poured a bit of beer into a soda cap and set it in front of her.
�Don�t ever do that again,� CJ snarled, pushing him back away from her and jumping to her feet. �Goddammit.�
�C�mon, dude. I�m sorry.� He stretched his hands out to her in a gesture of contrition, but she just tossed his headphones down at him, grabbed her free beer from the grass and started away from him. �CJ-� He gathered up his stuff, wedging his CD player into the front pocket of his bag and downing the rest of his beer before he dropped the bottle in a nearby trashcan and chased after her. He grabbed her elbow, his thumb folding over the tattoo that held the name of her favorite Yellowcard song. She twisted away.
�Don�t touch me.�
�C�mon. Are you that scared of li�l Ozzy and Sharon?�
�I. Hate. Snakes.� She turned and looked up at him and knew she couldn�t stay mad. �So, uh�� She changed the subject, looking down at his old Sambas, dusty from the loose gravel of the current Warped grounds, then back up at his face. �What�s your band got so far for the battle?� She gulped a mouthful of beer.
�Hmm, this probably isn�t a good time to tell you,� LP began, pointing at the plastic cup in her hand. �I let Ozzy piss in your beer.�
CJ made a disgusted sound and coughed as though trying to eject the offending substance. �God, I fucking hate you!� CJ growled, tossing some of the liquid his way, but he dodged just in time so the beer harmlessly splattered to the ground in foamy patterns before it soaked into the dust. LP sprinted away from her and CJ pursued him while holding the cup carefully, so as to preserve enough of the beer to soak the other drummer when she caught up with him.
They ran past a picnic table next to the fence dividing the Warped grounds from the tour buses. It was shaded by the All American Rejects tour bus, and Paul Thomas and Ryan Key were sitting and watching the kids walk by not far away. Every now and then, a fan would look over and notice one of them, running over and asking graciously for an autograph. Oddly, they didn�t take notice of LP and CJ sprinting through their midst at all. �Those kids,� Paul said, shaking his head as he watched the drummers running about while he sat Indian style on the surface of the table.
�What�ll we do with them?� Ryan asked, watching them from behind his shades, sitting on the bench part of the picnic table, a smirk touching his lips.
�So what�ve you got for us?� Paul asked him, referring to the battle song. Good Charlotte had launched the first volley, spearheaded by Benji, lampooning Yellowcard�s constant use of the ephemeral �you,� a half-assed, emo-ish copout that was used only for hook value. Benji figured anybody can relate to �you� unmodified, so all those kids out there could be like, �Oh hey, I know a �you� that broke my heart. They�re totally singing about me,� instead of being concrete. Concrete was harder. Concrete took talent. Anybody could be vague.
�I haven�t really thought about it,� Ryan responded, yawning. �We�ll write it this afternoon.�
Paul put his broad hand on Ryan�s thin shoulder. �Putting a lot of thought into it, hunh?�
He chuckled, looking up at Paul over the edges of his glasses. �Yeah, I guess.� Benji, Joel and Billy wandered up, looking through the trinkets and little stuffed animals their fans had given them as they walked around the grounds.
�Hey Paul,� Billy said, tossing an orange and pink mini teddy bear at him. �Some girl wanted me to give you that.�
Paul turned the bear around in his hands and noticed a message scrawled on the back of it. He read it and grinned. �Aww,� he murmured.
�Our fans are sweet, hunh?� Benji asked him, grinning. Ryan chortled and rolled his eyes behind his shades. Benji glowered at him, his oral jewelry flashing meanly in the bright sunlight. �Oh, what? Your fans are better?�
Ryan shrugged. �My fans buy me food and get me beer. Can your fans do that? Oh, wait, no, cuz your fans are eight and bring you jelly beans.� Joel looked down at the small tub of Jelly Belly�s in his hand, then slipped them into his pocket as he shifted his gaze to his feet. �And Benji, I thought your ass was vegan, what�s with eating those things?� He gestured towards Joel�s pocket.
�They�re just jelly beans,� Billy said.
�They�re fucking made of gelatin,� Ryan said, shaking his head. �Gelatin comes from the bones of animals. Look it up.�
Billy and Benji looked at one another. �Shut up,� Benji said, pointing a finger at him.
�And you better look closely at your produce, dude. Most tomatoes now are spliced with the genes of a tuna to make them more resistant to frost. That doesn�t sound very vegan to me.� Joel shook his head as Benji balled his hands into fists, trying not to knock the smartass little smirk off of Ryan�s face. �Oh, man, and you don�t want to know what goes into all the cereals on the shelf.�
�Shut up, shut up,� Billy whined, clapping his hands over his ears and hurrying away from the scene.
�See what you goddamn did?� Benji asked Ryan, starting after Billy.
�Hey, wait, you left your taller, thinner, more popular mirror behind!� Ryan called, looking at Joel.
�Fuck you, Key!� Benji yelled back. Joel kept his eyes on his feet, never saying a thing, slowly shuffling away, his feet kicking up a fine dust in his wake.
Paul had just watched the scene in slight amusement. �Not gonna give the twins a break, are you?� Paul asked.
Ryan shrugged, watching CJ and LP sprint by again, though this time LP had a bucket from what looked like a KFC 13 piece meal full of some liquid that foamed and sloshed over the sides as he chased CJ through the dust, coughing as they inhaled what Joel�s feet had kicked up. �Where would the sport be in that?� Ryan asked, answering Paul�s question with one of his own.
CJ grabbed Joel�s wrist and hid behind him, using him as a shield from LP�s onslaught. �Don�t make me sacrifice my lead singer,� CJ warned LP as he slid to a stop in front of Joel, lunging to the right just as she slid left to stay out of his line of fire.
�What the hell is that?� Joel asked, making a disgusted face as he looked into the cardboard bucket, at the brownish concoction inside.
�Oh, little of this, little of that,� LP replied. �We went around to different vendors asking for liquid contributions.� He lunged left and she faded right.
�LP said he was gonna drink it when it was full, but he choked,� CJ said to Joel as she gripped the back of his t-shirt.
�Literally. I tried it, and it�s just nasty.� LP stooped a little and looked up at Joel. He mouthed, move on three. One�two�three. Joel slid away from her and she was all at once without cover. LP grinned devilishly at her a split second before he dumped the whole bucket on her head. They could hear Paul and Ryan burst into laughter from the picnic table where they watched. The two people proximate to the scene stood stone still, LP still holding the bucket over her head so the last of the liquid could drip out onto her, Joel standing open mouthed to her right, and CJ holding her arms out from her sides slightly as the stuff oozed down her arms and dripped from her fingertips.
�Ooh,� Joel murmured. �We�re in a really Carrie moment right now.�
CJ shook her head vigorously, the liquid flying off the ends of her twists to splatter LP and Joel. �God-fucking-dammit!� She yelled the last word as she pushed LP in his chest hard enough to almost knock him down. She turned her back on him started stalking towards the buses, pushing Joel out of her way. �Now I have to fucking wash my hair. Do you have any idea how long it takes to wash my hair? I mean, really wash it? All day, motherfucker!� LP dropped the bucket and started after her.
�It can�t take that long,� he said. �It�s natural, anyway.�
�I have to take every one of these twists out, wash it, then put �em all back in.�
�Can�t you wash it with them in?� Joel asked, catching up behind LP.
�Sure, if I want beer and Coke stuck in my head for the next three months. God, fuck you too, LP.�
�Sorry,� he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. �I�ll help you with �em.�
�You goddamn well better,� she replied, grinning up at him to show there were no hard feelings. �Hold on.� She pulled the bottom edge of her sports bra away from her body and let some of the collected liquid splash on her soaked-through sneakers.
By some strange and cruel twist of fate, Yellowcard and Good Charlotte were given hotel rooms on the same floor, only a few doors apart. When both parties stumbled in for some well-deserved rest after partying till early morning, they were too tired to pretend to care about the proximity. CJ took over the shower in her room right away, having removed her twists during the day, and washed the stickiness out of her hair. When she came back out into the room, she could hear Benji, Joel and Billy playing PS2 through the open adjoining suite door, and Paul was sitting on the bed in her room (technically their room), reading and glancing up to look at the TV now and then. Holding her towel up with one hand, she walked into the twins� and Billy�s room to sift through her suitcase for some pajamas. She didn�t worry about any of her band mates getting a glimpse of her naked. It wasn�t like they hadn�t seen it before, and they all seemed much to engrossed in what they were doing to even care. She returned to her room and slipped into her PJ�s as Paul took covert peeks at her from behind his book.
�Don�t think I don�t see you,� CJ laughed, pointing at him after she tied the drawstring on her hospital blue scrub pants.
�Damn, I thought I got away with something,� Paul said, snapping his fingers and shaking his head.
�I�ll see you guys later,� she called as she started out into the hallway.
�Later,� Paul said, the only one still connected to the living world.
She shuffled barefoot down to LP and Ben�s room, knocking before Ryan answered it. �Hey,� he said unenthusiastically, stepping out of the doorway to let her in. LP, Ryan and Sean were apparently scarfing down huge amounts of hot wings in four or five different varieties, the spread laid out on the hotel floor, three kinds of dipping sauces in the middle.
�Holy Moses,� CJ marveled, looking at all the food.
�Hey,� LP said, dropping the wing in his hands and wiping them on the comforter beneath him. �C�mon in. Have some chicken.�
�No thanks,� CJ said.
�You�re not a vegetarian, are you?� Sean asked, raising one dark, arched eyebrow, dep green eyes flashing slightly in the wan ambient light.
�Nah, nah. Just not hungry.�
She seated herself on LP�s bed and started twisting her hair again, one by one. LP sat behind her and started from the back as she began in the front. Sean and Ryan spent a lot of time just watching them as they thoughtfully chewed their food, ignoring the infomercial on TV.
�How do you do that?� Sean asked, getting up and scooting onto the bed, pushing LP over a little so he could watch her tiny fingers work on the strands of hair to craft them into shiny, tightly coiled double helixes. �Can I help?� He asked.
�Yeah,� CJ said. �Just don�t get chicken grease in my hair.� He wiped his fingers off on LP�s shorts and started to try his hand at the activity, his thicker fingers not able to twist at the rapid pace CJ could. LP seemed to have a good handle on it too. Sean glanced over at LP�s handiwork.
�How come you can do this so fast?� He asked the drummer.
�You�re just born with it, son,� LP laughed. �It�s all in the wrist.�
�Hey, Ryan, have you written a song to my band yet?� CJ asked.
Ryan groaned, putting a hand over his stomach as he had just stuffed one too many wings inside. �Not yet. Anyone got any ideas?�
Ben and Alex showed up at the room about an hour later. �Did I miss the great chicken feed?� Ben asked, bursting in as though he had been in a hurry to get back on time.
Ryan looked up from his notebook. �Well, you can have some of those.� He pointed to a dry, plain looking stack of wings that looked relatively untouched. Ben leaned down and squinted at them, turning up his nose.
�Yikes. I�ll pass.�
�You? Passing on free food?� LP asked incredulously from where he sat, working on the last half of CJ�s head. �This is a momentous day.�
Ben blinked at him. �What the hell are you doing?�
�CJ�s hair.� Sean had given up and slid back against the headboard, falling asleep with a stomach full of chicken and beer.
Ryan hummed the tune to the song he was putting together, the title: �Progression.� Ben looked down the page above Ryan�s elbow. �Ah,� Ben said. �Writing about our senior, juvenile counterparts.�
�You should write something about how short Benji is,� Alex suggested.
Ryan looked up at him. �Who the hell are you?� He demanded, his voice sounding incredulous that a stranger would hitchhike into the room with Ben unannounced.
Alex looked sheepishly down at his feet, picking at the carpet with the toe of his sneaker. �I- I�m Alex, your new bass player.�
Ryan�s face softened and he nodded. �Oh, right.�
�Hey, you�re not so huge yourself, dude,� CJ said to Alex as he settled on the other bed.
Ryan pointed the end of his pen at her. �If you�re gonna be defending them, you�re gonna have to get the hell out,� he said grinning.
CJ turned her eyes to him and recited, as though mechanically reading the lines in I, Robot, �I am just the drummer. I have no opinion. I speak only when spoken to. I am invisible as the wind.�
Ryan laughed out loud, then threw his pen cap at Sean to wake him up. �I like that,� Ryan said. �LP, is that your mantra too?�
He finished up the last twist at the back of her head, and started to work forward to where he would meet CJ�s hands half way. �Something like that.�
Another knock on the door drew their attention. Ryan ignored it, frowning at his words and reciting them to himself. Alex had fallen asleep and Ben continued picking through the refused chicken to try to find an edible piece, so Sean had to drag himself off of the bed to the door. He checked the peek hole first, then opened the door to Paul. �Hey, man,� he said sleepily, hanging on the door as he stepped back to let him in.
�Is CJ here?� He asked before he looked up and saw her.
�Hey, Pauly,� she said, turning her head slightly to watch him come over and sit down next to her. The mattress slumped under his weight and her body slid against him as she continued on a twist. When she was finished with it she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.
�Aww,� Ben cooed.
�Is that our song?� Paul asked, pointing at Ryan�s pad of paper.
�Yep.�
�Is it good?�
Ryan lifted his eyes to the bassist. �What do you think?�
�Want some chicken?� Ben asked Paul, lifting the pile towards him.
Paul squinted into the box and turned up his nose. �No thanks, I�m okay.�
Three days later, Yellowcard had worked out their song and were ready to premiere it on the Warped stage. 4:45, the shit hit the proverbial fan. Benji, Joel, CJ, Paul and Billy watched the performance from the next stage, looking for a place to be out of the sun and away from fans for just a few minutes. The song was fast, the echo often swallowing Ryan�s words, but during the chorus, parts of the song were clear.
It�s the logical progression,
Move on, forget the cracked obsession with popularity
We�ve all been through it,
And we don�t wanna hear it from you.
You�re 25, it�s time to move on with your life.
Joel looked over at Billy as he bobbed his head with the rhythm, CJ patting her hands against her knees and bouncing her leg to match LP�s movements on stage. Paul rested his arm on CJ�s shoulders, his eyes cast down at the ground as he attempted to hear the words as well as he could. Joel turned to look the other way and saw Benji clenching his fists and staring straight ahead. �Nice harmony,� Joel said to him casually. The glare Benji gave him was so scathing he felt his skin searing and peeling away, pink cauterized flesh left in its wake.
Have you heard of honesty?
Sincerity or integrity?
You should try it sometime, you�ll sleep better at night.
And in the end, you might even thank me.
�Yeah, I�ma thank him pretty good later this afternoon,� Benji said, flexing his fist, then turning and kicking the crap out of a folding chair, throwing it off the stage, scattering a few girls that were trying to figure out if he was, in fact, one of the Madden twins. �Where the hell is my bat?� He mumbled as he stormed off the stage, disappearing as he started towards the Good Charlotte bus.
Well here�s where this installation will end. Can�t wait to see what happens next! r/r and I�ll get on that new installment ASAP.