DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything related to Bring Me the Horizon, nor do I own anything related to Oli Sykes, Lee Malia, Matt Nichols, Matt Kean, or Jordan Fish. (Apart from a couple of posters from HMV of course, etc. etc.)

AN: Before you read, let me just explain. Okay, so, some of you may not like this, but I am writing this mainly for my own entertainment. So if you're unhappy with the concept, it's not my problem.

Since Jona has left, and Jordan has joined, Bring Me the Horizon are left without a rhythm guitarist. BOOM! That's where my OC comes in. Yes, my OC is a female, just to fulfil the little fantasies inside my head. I'm not sure if this will have smutty stuff included, but if it does, that'll be in later chapters. Let me know if you have any suggestions as to scenarios that should happen in the story.

And now, TO MORDOR! Eheheh, just kidding.

(The Tour Bus)

"Nice…err…pants…" I muttered as I dumped my gigantic rucksack onto a nearby bunk. The dark carpet was littered with various pieces of clothing, underwear and all.

"They're clean, I think," Nichols shrugged, flopping heavily onto a padded sofa. His eyes fluttered closed. Practice had been long, and rather difficult, since I was fairly new and they had yet to teach me their ways. I'd spent hours with Lee, and we'd figured out where to add in rhythm parts so I would be able to play with them in future shows.

Jordan's face appeared near the bottom of the stairs, and he stretched up and handed me two cans of coke. I threw one vaguely in Matt's direction.

I heard a grunt, and saw Matt's coke can roll onto the floor. He was perched on the edge of his seat, hands protecting his crotch. I tried not to smile as I realised that I'd managed to crack a nut-shot without even looking.

"Oh, sorry, would you like some ice?" I asked, resisting the urge to snort with laughter.

"For what?" He asked, "The coke or my balls?!"

I couldn't help it and let out a giggle. A felt my face turn a little pink, and I turned to study to floor.

"Never mind, I'll bring you both."

I passed Jordan on the stairs, and jumped to the fridge, grabbing an ice pack and made it back in time to tap him on the shoulder and hand it to him. He raised his eyebrows, but I merely pointed up the steps.

I made my way further down the bus, still unfamiliar with its many functions. By 'many' I mean 'basically none', but there was a TV. With an Xbox. Undoubtedly Lee's. I'd play on it later.

Lee waved me over from his position on the beanbags next to Oli. They were both slumped over, half-asleep. What is it with these guys? I thought bands were supposed to be, like, amazing all-nighter-pullers, not dozing off at – actually, what time is it anyways? 9pm.
9pm was ridiculous. If I wasn't such a nice person, I'd be out gathering buckets of ice water to pour down their shirts. Tempting.

I tripped on my shoelace as I skipped down the bus, and face-planted the coffee table. It didn't hurt too much, but my pride and dignity had clearly abandoned me. I heard strained chuckling, and the click of a camera-shutter as I tried to straighten up as fast as humanely possible. Great. Now my clumsiness is gonna be all over facebook, twitter, the likes.

Because I'd always wanted to be seen sprawled over a bag of now-crushed Doritos.

Combing my hair over my face, I carried out the rest of the perilous journey, watching for any sign of hazard. Lee grabbed my shirt and yanked me onto his lap. A little awkward, but I made myself as comfortable as possible. A series of groans issued as I flung around my elbows, narrowly missing Oliver's head, and I made sure to dig my feet into Lee's stomach when I kicked off my scrappy trainers.

"Comfy yet, love?" A voice from behind my ear said.

"Ehhhh…kind of," so I shuffled around further until I really was comfortable. Unfortunately, I hadn't really been paying attention to exactly how close I was getting with Oli. Lee glanced over quickly and gave me a knowing look. He knew about my attraction to Oli. I remember when I'd first confessed it to Lee. I'd tried to hide it, fumbling desperately for the right words to say, so as not to give it away, but it was useless. He'd seen my flaming cheeks and heard my stutters. I couldn't help it; my mind had turned into a mushy mixture of jelly and water.

I glared back at him, even though I knew he wouldn't say anything. Partially because he was a genuinely nice person, and partially because I'd held a knife up and made him swear on his life that he wouldn't tell anyone.
He just smiled and shook his head, directing his attention to a passing lorry.

I used my failing sixth-sense to try and guess where I was sitting in proportion to Oli. My assessment now might save me from an embarrassing situation later, so it was important.

I could feel the squishiness of the leather beanbag underneath me, but my legs were draped over one of his. I was sitting directly in front of him. I felt the warmth of his body, and the rise and fall of his chest, his slow breathing. I realised the strange softness resting on my neck was his hair, and that he had lowered his head to lean on me. Soft snoring echoed in my ear. Bless him. Such a lightweight when it comes to sleep.
The sound was actually quite relaxing, and I soon found myself easing further into him, drifting into darkness.

AN: Please tell me if that was alright, I KNOW IT WAS SHORT but I wanted to see if I should carry on, and I promise to make them longer next time. Thanks so much for actually reading, btw. You don't know how much it means to me. ^.^