15:03 pm I heard a knock on my door. It was John, telling me to be ready to go in fifteen minutes. Chelsea helped me packing all my shit before leaving, so I had everything in its right place. I was feeling like shit, my heart jumping in my chest like a big ball of anxiety.

I was excited about having some time alone with Ben again, but oh, surprise, I've been behaving like a slut with Chris, and now that he even confessed his love to me, I felt like there was no turning back without breaking his sweet warm honey bassist's little heart.

Fifteen minutes later, I was finishing stacking my things on the bus when I heard some heavy and irregular steps behind me. It was Chris, wearing silver and black sunnies, looking more like Gage Creed crawling out of the Pet Cemetery than himself. I tried to swallow, but my mouth felt like a piece of cardboard.

"Heeeeey....mate...what's up?" I looked at him feeling a little uncomfortable. I couldn't stop repeating Ben's words in my mind: "Long time since I saw him so fucking wasted. He was babbling something about some bloke he couldn't find and how he left him alone."

"Um...I dunno...I'm kinda lost actually. My head is like a big bubble right now." His voice sounded raspy. He was carrying a bag full of cassettes along with his old but ripper walkman.

"You okay? You look like shit, mate." I giggled a bit, cause I knew he was in the middle of a life or death battle against his hangover.

"Yeah, I'll lay down for a while, I will be okay."

Then, Chris disappeared behind the purple curtains of his bunk bed. I was feeling kinda bad for him. I knew I completely ditched him last night, and so did Ben. But that was something we were used to, so I didn't think much of it at the time.

Benny appeared with a pile of VHS to watch during our bus trip and a big Mc Donald's paper bag with six burgers.

"How's Chris?" Benny asked before biting down his Big Mac.

"He was looking like shit" I said, lowering my voice. "He's got a big ass hangover going on."

"Yeah, I told you, mate. He was pretty passed out last night. I dunno what the fuck he was saying, ya know? Some thing about someone, like he was looking for someone but couldn't find him. Then he cried a bit and before I could actually comfort him, he was already shutting himself in his room. The whole thing looked weird." Benny looked like an old lady sussing out gossip with some neighbour.

The short chat ended up when we heard a loud snoring coming from Chris's side. After laughing a bit like we always do when some of us snore loud, Benny chose some VHS to play and we both sat down in front of the little TV.

After a while, Benny fell asleep before finishing Se7en, one of my favourite movies. I wanted to sleep so much, cause I need my sleep and I need to function, but my mind wouldn't let me. I was tormented by a storm of ideas assaulting my emotions like sharp needles against a soft piece of bloody meat.

During most of these sharp pain attacks, I find an appropriate time to drench my twisted and contorted thoughts in paper, and eventually evolve them into songs. Sometimes, arranging my writing to create a lyric is the most difficult part of the process of developing a full track.

That sad and stormy-hearted afternoon I needed my writing like a drug, so I cuddled in a far but warm corner of the tour bus with my notebook, that looks like a scapbook from the outside, and my favourite black pen. I love writing in black and red ink.

I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to fully intoxicate my whole being. It is a dangerous technique: I can't trust my own mind, and letting it invade me like a sickness has it's consequences, mostly paid with anxiety attacks and antisocial behaviour.

Cotton case for an iron pill.

Distorted mind, surrounded by beautiful deaths.

I scratched that last line and rattled my pen against the page of the notebook. I heard Ben changing position on the little sofa in front of the TV and the faint movements of the bus.

Distorted eyes, when everything is clearly dying.

Orchestral tear cash flow.

I looked up and focused my eyes on the velvety purple wall in front. I needed my smoke, I felt anxious and uncomfortable.

I rummaged impatiently through my belongings until I grasped my smokes and my holographic lighter. I had started smoking a few months ago when I found out it helped my control my day to day anxiety, but I didn't do it in front of many people yet.

I puffed a couple of times until I got lost behind a faint smoke cloud and returned to my writing.

Addict with no heroin.

Ignoring the pill, escape is all that matters to you.

I stopped when I heard someone moving from somewhere near me and closed my notebook. Five seconds later, Chris came to me holding a cold can of Fanta. His eyes were still puffy.

"Whatcha doing, mate?" he said, and sat next to me. He looked at me with some kind of embarrassed look.

"Nothing, just smoking. I was writing some stuff, ya know. So, how are you feeling? Benny told me you went to see him after the party" I said, puffing my cig and looking at him. He was clearly uncomfortable.

"Um...Really? Um...I dunno...I don't remember much of the after, ya know?" he giggled awkwardly and took and long sip from the can. I knew he was clearly lying, but I didn't want to push him telling something he wasn't ready to say to me.

I felt his warm coming up in sweet waves, he was sitting pretty close to me. I felt the strong impulse of kissing him, letting his hands run through my body like he did the other night. There was something about Chris I couldn't let go, but I didn't know if I was ready to grasp it when Benny was around.

I was thinking about that dichotomy when I felt his warm and soft hand on my back. I knew I couldn't resist much longer and I also knew I couldn't escape that moment. Did I actually wanted to escape? I looked straight into his sweetly intense brown eyes and leaned forward to lock our lips.

Time stopped for me when my lips met his, so soft. I loved how almost everytime I had kissed Chris, his mouth had tasted sweet. All I wanted was more and more.

He kissed me back, soft-lipped kissing me, stroking my messy hair. He rested his hand on my neck, pressing lightly. I wanted to hold up myself, but it was impossible to impose some self control in that moment. He bit my bottom lip, then pushed his tongue again. I wanted to be kissed by Chris all the time, cause no girl had kissed me like him before.

His breath was turning heavily and the kissing rhythm was growing. I loved the way his tongue melted into mine, crashing passionately but gently. But before we could take our kissing into something more private, we heard Ben through out wet kissing sounds. He was clearly emerging from the sofa and talking with the driver.

Chris looked deeply at me, with a smirk in the corner of his mouth.

"This isn't over, Dan" he said, moving his hand to my throat, pressing a little bit. I smiled, devouring him with my blue eyes.

"I know, bitch." We both giggled before returning to our things.