Author's Note: This was my project for Camp NaNoWriMo this April, so while it has been edited, there may be some errors, and there's probably a lot that doesn't make sense, but it will all be clear by the end. So... erm... enjoy...
Chapter One
"Has there ever been a time when you just want the rest of the world to disappear? To not exist any more?" Seth curled his long legs up into the chair and pulled a blanket around his shoulders. Every inch of him ached, and all he could hear was the sound of the fans banging against the side of the bus to get his attention.
"No offence dude, but you chose this life." Dean slid into the seat opposite his band mate, tugging back the curtain that had blocked out the sight of scores of fans all clamouring for a look at the hottest rock band in the country.
"No I didn't. I chose to play my music in small bars to small crowds. You and him wanted all of this, not me." The younger man deliberately left his side of the curtain down, plugging in his headphones in an attempt to block out the noise coming from outside the bus.
"Leave Roman out of this. He only wants what's best for the band." Dean, barely able to contain his anger at the other man's sulking, reached across the small table, yanking the headphones away from Seth's ears harshly. "You just can't handle that he's more popular than you!"
"I don't give a shit about popularity, what I hate is that you both so readily threw Jimmy, Bo and Corey out of the band. You both readily shit on my friends to get what you two wanted." Seth snarled, snatching up his bag and storming down the bus. Dean and Roman knew exactly how to get under the younger man's skin, and more often than not they used it as a source of amusement for themselves and the select few team members that travelled with them.
Roman's return to the bus was coupled with the door to the sleeping quarters slamming shut as Seth locked himself away at the far end of the bus. The large Samoan sauntered onto the bus, a leggy blonde on each arm, the three of them laughing and giggling conspiratorially as they passed a vodka bottle between them.
"Deano! Where's the kid? The ladies want to meet him!" Roman's loud voice, no doubt fuelled by alcohol, filled the confined space of the bus as he looked around, expecting to find Seth slouched down on the sofa, sulking as he sipped at a soda. "Where did he go?"
"Locked himself in the bedroom in a sulk. What did you expect?" Dean grunted, smirking when he saw the two girls at his friend's side. "But we don't need him to party ladies, me and Roman, we're far more fun than Sethy could ever hope to be."
Even through the locked door, Seth could hear the laughter and giggling coming from the main area of the tour bus, the volume slowly rising as the four people out there consumed more and more alcohol. Behind him, out the back of the bus, he could hear the doors of the luggage hold being slammed shut, meaning the crew were done loading up and they would be on their way soon.
Within minutes of the luggage hold being closed up, the voice of the band's slimy manager, Paul Heyman, joined the chorus of voices in the front end of the bus, followed shortly by that of Heyman's other two clients, MMA fighter Brock Lesnar, and professional wrestler Phil Brooks. From the sound of things they were throwing some kind of party out there. Seth groaned, burying his head under his pillows and closing his eyes, turning up the music on his iPod to block out the noise from the other room.
After a couple of hours, the noise slowly began to quieten down, and Seth could only assume that the others were falling asleep one by one. As silence fell on the bus, with the only sound being the purring of the engine as the bus cruised down the freeway to the band's next destination, Brock's big MMA fight in New York city.
Just as Seth was settling in to get some proper sleep, the door crashed open and Dean staggered in, half holding up one of the blonde girls Roman had brought onto the bus. Walking passed Seth's bunk, Dean pulled hard on his hair.
"Get out. We need the room. You can sleep in the bathtub." Dean growled at Seth, dragging the covers off the younger man and poking him relentlessly in the arm until he rolled off the bunk and trudged off in the direction of the bathroom, dragging the blanket with him.
"Fine!" He mumbled, more to himself than to Dean and the girl, who by this point have already collapsed onto the bed, giggling and pulling Seth's band mate down on top of her. Throwing the bathroom door open, guessing that Roman had taken over the sofa, Seth flicked the dim light on, instantly regretting it when the light revealed the Samoan, already stark naked, fucking another blonde in the bathtub. "For fuck's sake!"
Hearing Seth's exclamation, Roman's head snapped up sharply, dark eyes glaring at the younger man. "Fuck off!" He bellowed, throwing the nearest item, Dean's extremely overpriced shower gel, at Seth. Keeping his eyes away from the girl only long enough to watch Seth backing out of the room, Roman snarled, instantly returning to fucking the girl beneath him the second the light clicked out and the door shut.
Tempted to go back into the bedroom, just to piss Dean off more than anything, Seth reached the door, hand on the handle ready to burst in, when the sounds of sex filled the bus. Hefting a heavy sigh, Dean getting laid was something he really, really didn't want to be subject to, again, Seth turned away from the door, traipsing into the main seating area of the bus. To his immense surprise, Paul, Brock and Phil were still awake, all of them settled down into chairs, flicking through books or magazines to pass the time. At least, Paul and Brock were reading, Phil was shuffling around attempting to clear away some of the mess the others had left behind in their desperation to get laid.
"I'll do that." Seth mumbled softly, dropping his blanket over an empty chair and reaching out to take the rubbish sack from Phil, frowning softly when the other man hesitated. "I don't mind, honest."
Phil pulled the bag out of Seth's reach, shaking his head. "You already do more than enough for those two louts. Get some sleep, I'll clean up."
"Oi! Don't you be talking about my boys like that Phillip! You're not impossible to replace you know." Paul barely glanced up, merely raising his eyebrows as he warned Phil. "Let the kid clean up if he's that desperate to. Not like he contributes much else to the team anyway."
"I said I'll do it Phil. Just... I dunno, get some sleep or something." Seth crossed the short distance between them and snatched the trash bag from the other man's hand. He knew Phil would likely ignore him and help, but still, it wasn't Phil's place to clean up after Seth's 'friends.'
Between the two of them it took less than thirty minutes to clean up the bottles and take out containers that had slowly been building up around the room over the past week or so, and by the time they were done Paul and Brock had crashed out in their chairs, sharing Seth's blanket.
"Want me to get you another blanket kid?" Phil glanced across at the younger man, who had practically fallen down into an empty seat, shifting around to get comfortable.
"No thanks. I probably won't get much sleep as it is." Seth offered up a small, tired smile by way of thanks as he curled himself into the chair and reached for the book that was resting on the table in front of him. "A Clash of Kings? This must be your's."
Phil settled into the chair facing Seth, half smiling as he watched the kid skim reading the blurb. "Yeah. It's something of an obsession. I've got the first one at my place in New York, if you wanted to borrow it..?"
"I dunno... I mean... I wouldn't trust someone else's stuff around those two.." Seth jerked his head in the direction of the back of the bus, indicating his bandmates. "Thanks for offering though."
"Why are you still here Seth? I mean, you obviously aren't happy, so, why stay?" Phil watched closely as Seth lowered the book, staring blankly out the window.
"I... I have to..." His voice dropped to a whisper, checking over his shoulder to make sure Paul and Brock were still asleep behind him. "Paul won't let me break my contract, says he'll ruin me if I walk away."
Without thinking, Phil reached across the table, catching Seth's hands in his own. "Let me help you. I can't make Paul change his mind about the contract, but I can try and make life more bearable for you." Seeing the younger man shake his head slightly, Phil lifted his hand, cupping Seth's chin and pulling his face around so that he could look him in the eyes properly. "You can't do this alone. You need someone here for you, just, please kid, let me help."
Seth nodded slowly, smiling weakly as Phil dropped his hands, scooping up the book and cracking the spine open. "Thank you."
"Wasn't that sweet Brock? They think they can team up against me?" Paul's weasely voice hissed behind Seth, his breath warm and sickly against the back of his neck. "Why don't we see how good of a team they really are?"
Brock smirked, cracking his knuckles as he hefted himself out of the chair, throwing the blanket at the two men sat at the table. Striding off down the bus in the direction of the driver, the fighter barely noticed Paul hurrying after him, rubbing his hands together with glee.
The next five minutes were tense and uncomfortable, and dragged by for so long that Seth found himself nervously glancing at his watch every thirty seconds or so until Phil grabbed his hand.
"Relax. Paul can't hurt either of us, not if he wants to have to answer questions from the press. And I'm right here, not going anywhere, remember that. Okay?" Phil refused to take his eyes away from Seth until the younger man nodded slowly.
Without warning the bus shuddered to a halt, and Paul burst back into the silent room, throwing Seth's bag at him roughly. "Off, both of you. You want out of this team, you got it." The older man pointed at the front of the door, where Brock was stood menacingly cracking his knuckles. "Go on, off my bus. You can make your own way home, the pair of you."
Without thinking anything through, Seth stood, making his way down the bus, Phil right behind him. As he drew level with Brock, Seth stopped suddenly, turning slowly, frowning when he saw Phil following.
"No! You should stay Phil. I don't want you to throw your career away because of me." As Phil started forward, making to push passed Seth, the younger man put his hand out, stopping him. "Don't. Wrestling is your life, and I refuse to let you give up what you love because I hate myself for not standing up to the others."
"I'm not giving anything up Seth, I'm walking away from a bullying manager so that I can find someone who is genuinely interested in helping me." Phil shoved passed the young musician, jumping down from the bus without a second thought. Until the bus doors hissed shut behind him and the vehicle pulled away.
"Stop! Go back and get him!" Seth screamed at Paul, throwing his bag as hard as he could at the fat little man. "You said we could both get off! Either let me off, or go back and get him!"
"You took too long. I told you to get off, he got off, you didn't." Paul smirked, slumping down into the chair he had previously been sleeping in.
"You didn't give me a chance to get off!" Seth started forward, ready to hit Heyman the second he got close enough. "Now go back! Get Phil! We'll both leave when we get to New York!"
"Too late. Phil's already left, and as for you, you're stuck here, with the band, with me, and with Brock, until your contract is up. Which is, if I remember correctly, isn't for another four years!" This time Seth launched himself at his manager, covering the distance with ease. And he would have managed to get to Paul had Brock not grabbed him at the last second, throwing the young man aside. "Deal with him would you? All this Diva behaviour is exhausting."
Brock grunted in reply, hoisting Seth back up to his feet and tossing him over his shoulder with a practised ease. The younger man groaned, only half conscious from the blow that had knocked him to the ground. Brock dumped Seth down into the equipment closet, slamming the door and locking it behind him.
