"We're The Vamps."
They're sitting, the four of them, on a cramped little sofa, answering the same questions they've answered ten times today already. It's James' go and he's at the far end engaged with the latest journalist. She's pretty and funny and seems to have done her research at least half as well as the others they'd already interviewed with and James is doing well to make them sound proper professionals. At least for the moment.
Beside James, Tristan is sat in Brad's lap, as per usual, his arms looped loosely around Brad's neck. His long legs are stretched out across Connor's lap, and Connor, who is only half paying attention to the questions, is absentmindedly tickling Tris's ankles, making the lanky boy squirm. Brad squawks loudly, exaggerating his discomfort, digs his fingers into Tristan's side. He chides Tris for his bony arse, but wraps his arms around his middle, pulling Tris further into his chest. Tris drops a kiss onto Brad's curls in way of apology and then licks the edge of Brad's eyebrow. He squawks again and the sofa erupts into laughter and a spontaneous puppy pile, James on top, smacking any arse in view. The pretty interviewer can only sit witness to the scene. She is amused but also feels awkwardly intrusive, as there's something strangely intimate to how these boys all interact together.
It's all standard course for their group interviews; half thoughtful answers, half falling out for a laugh. Sadly, it doesn't take much for any of them to become bored during a full day of interviews, and nothing at all for them all to break out into the giggles.
Across the room, their manager, Joe, quietly clears his throat. This isn't anything he's not used to and for the most part, he allows it because it keeps the boys happy and together. The fans also find it endearing. Joe does as well if he's being honest. Luckily, the quiet warning is enough to settle their rambunctious behaviour and they slide right back into the interview as if nothing's happened.
Joe's just thankful the boys are all-around good lads. He's heard about and even occasionally witnessed the nightmares other managers have to handle, and he can honestly say he's lucky to lead this playful rabble; even with all the licking and kissing and inappropriate touching. He counts himself lucky that he's never actually walked in on a band orgy. Not that he thinks it would ever truly happen, but one can never be certain; not when it comes to the overwhelming hormones that permeate every inch of space these boys occupy. Heaven save him.
