“Hook her up with some swag,” I tell Milo as I grab the coffee and make my way over to the bathroom. There's someone inside, but I don't bother to ask who it is. I just kick open the door and take a sip of my coffee. The glass door splits open and a wet face glares out at me. “Morning Treyjan,” I say as I glance over my shoulder and watch as Milo hands the girl from last night a white robe, throwing me a narrow eyed glare while he goes about cleaning up after me. I have a hard time feeling sympathy for him. It's what I fucking pay him for, isn't?
“Have a good time last night?” Treyjan says as he slides the door closed and goes back to washing his hair. “Sure as fuck sounded like it to the rest of us.” I lean against the door frame, not caring that I'm still buck friggin' naked. Let 'em all get an eyeful and enjoy. I take another sip of the coffee. It isn't exactly doing much for my hangover, but at least it'll wake me up. I check to make sure the girl's far enough way that I can speak freely.
“I guess it was alright,” I tell him as I step back and use my foot to pull open the drawer beneath my bunk. I fish out a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, throwing them on quick and finishing my coffee in a single gulp. “Where'd you find this one?” I toss my garbage into the can next to the toilet. It hits the rim and bounces off, but I don't bother to pick it up. I pay someone to do that, too.
“When you didn't show up last night, we made a bet to see which chick would wait around the longest looking for you. Found her by the merch table flirting with Jason.”
“Should've left her there, too,” I say and we both laugh. “And hurry your fat ass up, you fucking diva. The rest of us could use a shower, too. Especially Josh.”
“Hey, fuck you, Turner,” Josh says as he pushes past me and disappears into the second bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I ignore him. He's always a bitch in the morning. Not as bad as Milo though.
“Excuse me?” my manager asks as I step into the kitchen and open the fridge. I am fucking starving. I start to rummage through the crap inside, looking for something I can actually eat. Most of it is complete shit, and I end up closing it without finding a damn thing. I pull a cigarette out of my front pocket and stick it in my mouth.
“Can't we get some fucking food on this damn bus? Am I supposed to friggin' starve to death?” I shove past Milo and reach for the door handle. “I'm going to Denny's. Try not to leave without me.”
“Turner!” Milo screams as I snag my boots on my way out and hit the dust barefoot. “We have to be in San Diego by eight o'clock tonight. If we don't leave in the next half hour, we're not going to make it.” Fucking Christ. That man is worse than my mother.
“Then buy me some goddamn food.” I pause and drop my boots to the ground, lighting my cigarette before I step into them. I don't bother to tie up the laces. “Get something on that bus other than red licorice and fucking chia seeds, whatever the hell those are.”
Whatever Milo says next, I ignore, moving through the buses and trailers with my cig hanging out of my mouth and my phone in my hand. There's quite a load of messages on my Facebook page. Guess my fans liked last night's post. I smile and search for a Denny's, hoping to fuck that there's one within walking distance. If I don't get something to eat soon, I'm done for.
I'm looking down, so I'm not paying attention to where I'm going. Doesn't matter anyway. When people see me coming, they get out of my way.
“Hey!” a girl shouts as our shoulders slam together and my cigarette topples out of my mouth. “Watch where you're fucking going!” A crumpled ball of leather slams into my chest before I get the chance to process that the chick standing in front of me is the girl from the bus last night, the one on the couch. Holy fuck me. She looks even better in the daylight. She's tall, fucking got legs for days, and her tits are practically falling out the top of an asymmetrical tee that's cut up and hanging in long strips over her bare belly. Skin like porcelain, orange-brown eyes that bite, and swollen lips. Hell to the fuck yeah. She's exactly my type. My irritation at having her bump into me dissipates right away, and I switch on the charm.
“Hey, baby, do I know you from somewhere?” I shake out the crumpled leather as she scowls at me and realize with a start that it's actually my jacket. Must've left it on her bus last night. I wonder if we fucked. If we did, then it's a memory I'm sad to forget.
“Yeah, last night when I cleaned your puke off my carpet and pulled your dick out of my friend. Hey, next time you decide to screw a drunk chick, make sure she's sober enough to remember her own name. Can you do that for me, Turner?” I lick my lips and shake out the jacket, tossing it over my shoulder with a scowl of my own. Hot as this chick is, nobody talks to me like that. If I've ever fought for anything in my life, it's the right to be respected. Even a tight body and a dangerous scowl can't change that.