Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters (you're crazy if you think I did anyway).
Chapter 1- Last Man Standing
A procession of tour busses pulled off the highway. They turned onto a much less traveled road, a road that led into a large forest and up a mountain. These busses were part of a tour, a music tour to be more defined. Headlining this tour was a metal band known to the world as Last Man Standing. Zack Hunter was their lead singer, Josh Hunter the drummer, Drew Walker the bassist, and Adam Chesting was the guitarist. Together, these four men were pioneering a new wave of heavy metal. They were the next big thing.
Following the release of their first, self-titled album, Last Man Standing began working on their next great work. This effort formed into the CD known as Silent Echoes. Shortly after the release, the album went to the top of the charts, causing the band to go on another tour in support of the release. This was the tour these busses were for. This was the tour that had hit every major city in the United States. This was the tour that was just finishing up at a city called Raccoon City.
Josh Hunter didn't have the time to sleep; he was too busy playing shows, partying with his band, and just having a good time, generally. It was a rare chance for him to receive his well-needed sleep, and he relished each tiny second he had in slumber. He had been enjoying one of these rare chances on the bunk beds of the tour bus as it made their transition to the next city.
"Wake up!" a voice urged. Josh's dream (which was strangely life-like, but aren't they always?) was shattered instantly as a pair of hands gripped his shoulders, shaking him until every last drop of fatigue left him.
"Get off!" Josh exclaimed angrily as he shook his hands defensively in front of him, successfully freeing himself. His tired eyes opened slowly to reveal a tiny man with long, curly, brown hair. He wore a simple black t-shirt that was adorned with the band Iron Maiden's main logo, the zombie simply known as Eddie. This shirt was accompanied by a pair of gray pants. Josh recognized this man instantly, it was Drew Walker, and he also happened to be his greatest friend.
Upon seeing his friend's affable face (which was clean-shaven, save for a tiny tuft of facial hair on his chin) and kind, brown eyes, Josh's manner changed entirely. His voice dropped into a much more amiable tone. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "Just don't like being woken up so rough." His friend only shrugged his shoulders, uncaringly, as if saying, I know you didn't mean anything by it. No big deal.
Josh quickly sat up and knocked his head on the bunk that was above his. Drew's bunk, if you could believe it. "Son of a…" he cursed under his breath. Drew chuckled at this display, but didn't poke fun at him. That's part of why Josh liked him so much, he was nice and knew when to keep his wisecracks to himself. And could he blame him for laughing? Most certainly not, for he also joined his friend's amused laughter.
"Just wanted to wake you up," Drew said, giving an explanation that wasn't needed. "We're here, you know."
Josh almost opened his mouth questionably, about ready to ask where they where when the realization hit him. We're at the next stop, he thought. What was its name? Ahh, yes, Raccoon City. That's it.
"That's good. You wake the others yet?" Josh asked with a casual tone, stretching his arms out in front of him.
Drew shook his head. "Nope, didn't need to. We've all been up, trying to decide when to wake your lazy ass up." Josh offered a small chuckle as Drew turned and walked on, towards the front of the bus.
Josh rolled out of the bunk, managing to land on his feet. The bunks were arranged on both sides, three bunks high. On one side, Drew had the top, he had the middle, and the bottom was reserved for storage. It was this bunk that he reached into. He pulled out a black, sleeveless, Metallica shirt bearing the infamous message, KILL 'EM ALL. Josh also grabbed a pair of green, cargo shorts, a pair of socks, and a clean pair of boxers.
The bathroom was towards the back of the bus. The sign atop the door read VACANT and he quickly claimed that vacancy for his own. He got in and shut the door behind him, quickly dressing himself.
Josh was only twenty-three years old, the prime of his life. His normal appearance was youthful, and full of energy. Looking in the mirror, he was appalled at the lack of those traits. He had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and his normal, bright, green eyes that shown like emeralds were now tired and listless. A faint beard was growing on Josh's face, adding to his appearance of exhaustion. He tried splashing cool water over his face, but it barely managed to revive any of his former youthful traits. What I wouldn't give for a shower and a shave! he thought desperately. Surely, that would be all it would take to revive his appearance.
Josh considered himself a handsome fellow. At least, he was when he wasn't looking so dog-tired. He was around a height of 6'2" and weighed only around 200 lbs. Not bad for being so tall. He managed to keep this weight through weightlifting, and he had the form to prove it. He didn't look like a massive body builder, but he was well toned and muscular. Just in a leaner sort of way. His arms, however, were actually large, but you couldn't tell most of the time. The sleeves of his shirt normally withheld this secret, but the shirt he wore now was sleeveless, exposing his large biceps that were covered in tattoos.
On one of his arms, he had a large cross, surrounded by the words ONLY GOD CAN JUDGE ME. On the other, there was a large archaic H. There was one other who shared this mark, Josh's brother Zack. The letter had been both of their first tattoos and was a testament to their brotherly bond. Those we're his only tattoos, and he was fine with that. He didn't need to be covered from head-toe with meaningless tattoos. No thank you, Josh thought a bit sarcastically.
He took one more second to try to fix his unruly, medium length, blonde hair, but it was to no avail. Giving up with a hefty sigh, he grabbed a baseball cap and threw it over his head, bill forward. Satisfied with his new appearance, he left the tiny bathroom for a not much larger kitchen.
It wasn't so much as a kitchen; more of like a couple of cupboards, a sink, and a table with some chairs. What could one expect from a confined tour bus? The rest of the band was already there, sitting around the small table that also flipped into a makeshift bed. Wasn't that handy?
He quickly poured himself a bowl of cereal and took his seat next to Adam Chesting. Adam was shorter than Josh, but taller than Drew, making his height around 5'11". He had dark red hair that fell way past his shoulders. The typical heavy metal cut, as Josh called it. Adam might have appeared womanly from his longer hair, but one only need to look at his ragged beard to see he was a "he" and not a "she." His beard was thick and bushy and matched his dark red hair. To Josh, he looked like a lumberjack, or maybe a homeless man. Adam wore a black Sepultura shirt and a pair of baggy cargos.
Adam had tattoos, just like Josh, but he had far different choices. While Josh tried to keep things simple with just a couple of tattoos, the guitarist didn't hold back. His arms and legs were covered with tattoos ranging from woman in skimpy outfits to a picture of Zeus wielding a lightning bolt. One of his more impressive tattoos was a large skull that had been rammed through with a spear on his right bicep, bearing the message LIVE BY THE METAL, DIE BY THE METAL. However, the one that trumped all others was on his back. A large and rather elaborate grim reaper had been placed there. Above its head (which turned out to be Adam's shoulders) was a line that read DEATH AWAITS FOR NO ONE. Josh wondered how one man could stand to be marked so many times. Both times he had received his tattoos he never once thought, Boy this is fun! Maybe tomorrow I can get another. Maybe a little kitty on my ankle! But to each man his own, he supposed.
"What's up, guys?" Josh asked casually as he took his seat.
"Usual," Zack responded with the same timbre that his brother had used. He was taller than Josh by a few inches (even though he was the younger of the brothers), but he lacked his muscular tone. Zack had short, spiky brown hair, and light, hazel eyes. He had probably the strangest facial hair of them all, a long, thin beard that started at his chin and ended at his neckline. He wore a rather large knock-off combat jacket that had never once seen even a second in battle. It was covered with patches that were all different symbols of the bands Zack loved. He called it his "display of the only bands that mattered."
They ate their breakfasts in silence. Josh supposed such silence would be uncomfortable for an outsider witnessing their meal, but it didn't bother him a bit. They had spent so much time together that didn't need to talk all the time. Things were shared on a much deeper bond. Sometimes it was better for them to just be silent, taciturn if you like.
Drew was the first to speak up. "What time is it now?"
Josh didn't check his arm for a watch, for he didn't own such an instrument like that. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone and checked the onscreen display. "Uh, it's almost noon right now," he said before returning the phone to the safety of its belt clip.
"Great. And when do we have to be at the concert?" Zack asked. There was some sort of enthusiasm in his voice, and Josh knew where it came from. Zack (and probably everyone else on this bus) was looking forward to this concert. Actually, it wasn't the concert they were looking forward too, but the end of the tour they were so eager to reach. After it ended, he and the rest of the band would be able to visit they're families. How long they could visit was yet to be seen, but he anxiously awaited it nonetheless.
"Concert starts at 6 o'clock."
Adam sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "At least this is it, then we're home."
Josh sighed too, already envisioning his home. Standing on the front porch would be his family, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the two missing components to their household. His mother's arms would be outstretched, waiting to embrace her sons while his father stood next to her, smiling. On his mother's other side would be Josh's faithful friend, Diego the black lab, sitting patiently with his tail wagging behind him and waiting for his chance to greet his master. Unaware to Josh, a faint smile was pressed to his lips.
Drew was completely aware of this smile, however. "What's so funny? Remember a good joke?" he asked with a slight smirk of his own.
"Nothing really," Josh answered truthfully. "Just thinking about home." Drew nodded, accepting his answer for what it was. He could see that Drew was looking for the end of this tour as much as he was. It was in his eyes. The dark brown irises shone fervently at the vision of reuniting with loved ones.
The discussion about returning to home had piqued the interests of everyone, everyone except Josh. While the others talked passionately about their plans, he turned his attention to the window and the streets behind it.
Inspecting the city, he saw small shops and privately owned businesses lining the streets. Occasionally, he would see a larger corporation, one he recognized, but most were unheard of by Josh. The streets weren't as crowded as larger cities tend to be. In fact, they were almost completely deserted. He wondered why such a large city would be missing so many people. What could possibly keep them from coming outside? He only hoped people wouldn't be too afraid of their shadows to come to the concert.
Why did we end up here? Josh pondered as he looked at the ghost town. There really isn't much here. It's so… so vacant. He had heard the city mostly raked in income from mountaineers and tourists, which was a good way to earn money, he supposed. Now, the city was growing rapidly, all due to the massive Umbrella Corporation. For some reason, Umbrella had decided that Raccoon City would be the perfect location for several power plants and facilities. Why? Josh couldn't figure that out for the life of him, but whatever the reason, it must have been shared by his record company.
Honestly, he hadn't the right to complain about his current surroundings (later in the day, when his world was filled with blood, pain, and sweat, Josh could complain, but not now). He had in fact made it to the top, a place where many dreamed to reach, but seldom did. After such an accomplishment, could he really complain about playing a show in this mountain town that most of the United States hadn't even heard of (once again, there would be a later when nearly the whole world would know the words "Raccoon City")?
Truthfully, Josh couldn't believe how lucky they had been. He remembered when they first started in high school. Drew had played bass, Adam played the guitar, and Josh had the drums, same lineup as they currently had. They had trouble finding a singer, so after awhile Josh took the reigns as lead singer, and they found a different drummer, a boy named Kerry. They played for a year as that, working the small clubs around their city, but this wasn't the lineup that had brought them fame. Soon, Kerry had been unceremoniously kicked out of the band. He had a huge drug problem that was slowly bringing the band down, and Josh never doubted that decision once. Josh's younger brother, Zack, helped the band by filling in on vocals for a few practice sessions. This temporary filling had ended up becoming full time. Zack took over as their new front man. Josh returned happily to his former passion, drumming, but he still sang in the form of backup vocals.
That's when their career as Last Man Standing started. After another whole year of playing small venues, they finally began attracting larger crowds. These larger crowds in turn grew into larger shows, and so on. It was like a balloon filling with air, slowly, but still growing nonetheless. When this balloon had reached near its final size, they had attracted the attention of a Record Company. It was with this company that the band had began to record their first CD. It was surprisingly popular and before they knew it, they were called nationwide, "the future of metal." They began playing with the very bands they had grown up listening too, and then, three years after the birth of Last Man Standing, they recorded a second CD that reached the top of the charts. Now, here they were headlining their own tour. Josh could hardly believe what they had done in just five short years.
The entire band was the same age, 23, except for Zack who was one year younger than everyone else. They had started playing gigs around the age of 17 and now here they were, in the big time. He knew they were lucky, not many people managed to reach where they currently stood. It was a long way to the top, if you wanna rock-and-roll (to quote ACDC), but Josh and his friends had managed it. They were lucky, that was all. Just lucky.
However, there was only so long luck would last. Josh would find that out by the end of then night.
Josh's drifting mind snapped back to attention when he heard Zack speak up excitedly. "Holy crap! Look at this place!" Zack exclaimed, pointing out the front windshield. He had moved to the front of the bus and was currently standing next to Willy, their bus driver. He didn't seem to be pleased with Zack invading his personal space. He could see that by Willy's sour looks and the way he stared at Zack. The singer didn't seem to notice. He only stood where he was, gawking out the window as if he was seeing God himself.
Josh moved from his seat and stood next to Zack, cramping the front quarters ever so much more. He thought Willy would finally voice his irritation (please, stay behind the yellow line), but he said nothing. Josh completely forgot about Willy's sour gaze when he saw the beauty that lay on the other side of the thin pane of glass. This beauty belonged to a hotel.
The garden of the hotel didn't seem to belong to the city environment that surrounded it. It looked more like something Josh had seen in his history books. Ancient Rome, perhaps. Lining the driveway were many beautiful flowers and expensive statues. The leaves had changed color, but had failed to fall yet, adding another sense of beauty to this already dazzling display. The lawn was carefully maintained (not a single leaf lay on the soft grass) and Josh wondered how many gardeners were employed alone to preserve such an Eden.
The hotel was the apotheosis of it all, for it was grander than the scenery that surrounded it. Josh couldn't even count all the floors on it, but he put the number somewhere around ten. It appeared to be made entirely out of white marble, but he didn't think that was the case, couldn't be the case! If that all was white marble, this massive structure would rival the Taj Mahal.
The bus drove under an elegant archway with an assortment of animals carved into it. He had expected a multitude of screaming fans to be waiting for the convoy under the impressive balcony, but there was not. Standing alone in front of the wide double doors of the hotel was a single woman. Even more surprising was the fact that none of the others busses stopped at this wonder. The bus toting Last Man Standing was the only bus to stop.
The doors of the bus slid open with an audible WHOOSH! Josh was the first to step out. He walked out in a daze, mouth gaped open as his head moved about, gathering all it could take in. He looked about with the zealous intensity that a child had when visiting Disney World for the first time.
This was how he walked as he approached the front door, and the woman who stood in front of it, almost as still as the statues in the garden. She was a middle-age woman with frizzy red hair dressed in an expensive looking business suit, suggesting she was higher-up on the hotel food-chain. She smiled warmly at Josh and spoke in an even warmer voice. "Welcome to the Lux Cher Hotel. We've been expecting you."
"Yeah I can see that," Josh said, only with half of his attention. The other half was diverted firmly to his environment. Wow! What are we doing at a place like this? he wondered. Then, and even greater question: What's a place like this doing in a city like Raccoon City?
"I've already taken the liberty of checking you in," the woman continued genially. You'll be staying at room nineteen, on the top floor. It has a fantastic view of the city below." She handed Josh a room key which wasn't so much a key, more of a plastic card, but it would work all the same. "If you need anything just tell me."
Josh nodded in response, finally directing his attention back to her. He noticed her nametag, which proved to him that she was important to the hotel. The card claimed she was the manager of the hotel, and that her name was Debra Baker.
Debra turned, and doing so, the doors seemed to magically open for her. Don't be stupid, Josh reprimanded himself. They're electronic. This place may be wonderful, but it's still real. No magic. She led the group into the lobby, and he was once again amazed.
The lobby itself was incredible, but in a much different way then he had expected. While the outside had been decorated in what looked like an ancient Roman wonder, the inside was actually quite contemporary. The floor near the front entrance was tiled in the same sort of white marble, but past the check-in/out area, the floor was covered in a thin layer of moss green carpet. In the center of this lobby was a large, elegant fountain that almost seemed to spray the water to the second floor. Two staircases encircled the fountain, but Josh couldn't see the area behind it. The fountain was far too large. What he could see behind the fountain were two large elevators. They were made entirely out of black glass, the kind of glass that allowed those inside to see people in the lobby, but those in the lobby weren't granted view of the elevator's occupants. Off to the side was a large café or restaurant, he wasn't sure where the line was drawn between those two. At the sight of the restaurant/café, Josh's stomach gave a brief rumble. In a little bit, he promised himself. It was a promise he meant to keep, for surely a restaurant in a hotel like this had to have the one thing he craved, real food. They probably had steak, and potatoes to go with it. Josh's mouth watered at the hope of such sustenance.
Opposite the restaurant (café) was a living area, complete with a large TV and comfortable sofas. Josh had no urge to partake in this; he wanted a comfortable bed instead of a sofa. Overall, the lobby was impressive, but it didn't quite match the magnificence of the exterior. But what about the room? he wondered to himself. If this was how the lobby was, and the garden was more beautiful, where does the room measure up too? Closer to the garden or the lobby? Either way, he was sure he would be more than pleased.
The line of people (still led by Debra, who marched like a woman on a mission) now approached the fountain and passed it. Josh clearly heard the roar of the minute waterfalls that cascaded from it, it was impossible not to. He even felt the mist tickle his face and exposed arms (the closest he had come to a shower all week). He noticed that the floor of the fountain was covered in the familiar glow of copper. There was no shortage of change (especially pennies) on the bottom of this manmade oasis. Has to be almost $100 in change down there, he thought with amusement.
They reached the elevator and this is where Debra made her stop. She turned around and he could still see the warm smile that had graced her face before. Josh noticed the smile wasn't forced like some phony salesman used. No, this woman was just happy, happy for the chance to meet famous people. Probably not, he scoffed. You can't be that vain. With how expensive looking this place is, I'm sure more than a handful of the rich and famous have made their presence here. Even if this is just a small mountain town.
Debra shook Josh's hand briefly, gave a quick "thank you for choosing the Lux Cher Hotel for your stay," and was off on other matters. No, thank you for choosing us, he thought happily, watching her walk off. She still moved in that brisk business fashion. She reminded him of the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland (I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date!).
Everyone loaded up onto the opened elevator. The door slid silently shut, and Adam was the first to speak. "Can you believe this place!" he remarked with wonder. "Its like a five star hotel! How did we get in a place like this?" Josh noticed Adam was carrying a suitcase, which was currently slung over his back. In fact, everyone had some sort of luggage they were carrying, all except for him.
Might want to get that.
"Well, the manager of this hotel is Bill's sister," Drew elaborated. "She gave us a free room."
BillSmith was the manager of the group, but to the band, he was more like the father they didn't have, while touring that was. Bill was even around the same age as Josh's real father. Just recently, he had played poker with Bill and his friends. Bill's son had even been there. He was the same age as Josh and he was already a successful lawyer in some high priced law firm. That had been a great night, a great night filled with money and alcohol. Josh had won over a hundred dollars. Apparently, the lawyer boy wasn't as good at poker as he was at making cases. Josh thought that was funny, for, in essence, they came down to the same thing.
"Wonder what our room is going to be like?" Adam asked. Josh could see the strange wonder that had filled Adam's eyes still hadn't vacated. He was now engrossed in the shaded glass of the elevator. Apparently, he thought the lobby was more magnificent from multiple stories when compared to ground zero.
"The toilets are going to be made of gold and the toilet paper will be hundred dollar bills," Zack said from the back of the elevator in a low voice. He sounded serious and Josh couldn't help but turn and give his brother the "what are you talking about look." He wasn't entirely surprised to see a large, goofy grin slapped on his brother's face.
"Sure will," Josh said, his voice much more sarcastic than his brother's. Then, a little more serious, "If it's anything like the rest of this hotel, I'll think we'll be more than happy." That was the truth. He was already surprised at the standard of living employed by the hotel, but he still couldn't help but fantasize about the splendors of what the room would hold. It was like waiting for that one special gift on Christmas. You knew it would be big, but you didn't know how big.
When they opened the door to room 11 of floor 19, Josh wasn't disappointed. He thought calling it a room would be an understatement. Room 11 was more like an apartment, and he was ecstatic to see that it measured up very nicely to the rest of the hotel. Very nicely indeed.
Laid out before him, in all its beauty, was the living room. The walls were bare but were painted in a satisfying shade of light brown. In the living room was a large, black, leather couch, a chair of the same quality, and the largest TV Josh had ever seen in his life. Josh had to resist the urge of running to the television as fast as he could and leaping onto that comfy looking sofa. It was that inviting. Adjourned to the living area was a small dining room, and connected to that was the kitchen.
The kitchen had all the top of the line appliances; a stove, a washing machine, a microwave, a refrigerator, and even a trash compactor filled the linoleum floor. The fridge and the cabinets were stocked full of food, and he was more than happy to see that the white, linoleum floors were clean, as were the counters. Both shone brilliantly with sparkling perfection. The faint smell of lemon was still in the air, and Josh's nose tickled pleasantly at its odor.
"Check it out!" Zack exclaimed as he leapt deftly over the sofa and landed softly on its plush, comfortable pillows. He turned on the TV and began channel surfing. Even though the TV was impressive, Josh's curiosity prevented him from staring at the electronic device mindlessly. He moved on, wanting to see the rest of the rooms.
There were two bathrooms. They both came with the simple necessities, but they also included Jacuzzis and a set of towels labeled HIS and HERS. Josh grabbed the one branded HERS and tossed it at Adam. "Here, I believe this is yours." Adam caught it in midair and looked a it puzzled. When he saw the brand on it, he chuckled.
"Very funny, ass," Adam said as he whipped the towel back at Josh with all of his strength. "I'll have to remember that one."
There were three bedrooms, all wonderful, but by varying degrees. One was the master bedroom that had a king-sized bed and another TV (not as big as the one in the living room, but still large all the same). The other two came with two single beds, and lacked the treatment the king-sized bedded room had. This didn't matter to Josh. Any bed would do the job, and they all looked comfortable. He leapt onto the king-sized bed and landed on layer upon layer of soft, delicate sheets. It felt softer than a cloud and he just lay there, staring at the ceiling. I could lay here for the rest of my life, Josh thought. Just lay, relax, and rest. This was an idea he could really get into. Slowly, his eyes drifted close.
Bill then came into the room, unnoticed by Josh who was just mere seconds away from falling into a deep sleep. "So how do you like the room?" he asked him with a voice that was thick, but still gentle in a friendly way. It was like the voice of a grandparent, deep with age, but caring all the same.
"Top notch," Josh responded. He forced himself to sit up and look at Bill in the face. His head spun at the sudden shift in position, disorienting him slightly. It probably was contesting the decision to sit up, wanting to lay back down again. His swirling vision quickly centered and the argument was over. Josh had won, but next time he might not. Next time, he was sure he would fall asleep in midair as he dove onto the bed.
It was Bill that his vision settled on. He was a short, round man with balding white hair. He wore a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of brown slacks, and he also wore glasses over his dark blue eyes. One of the friendliest smiles Josh had ever laid eyes on was on Bill's countenance. He found himself smiling when looking at his face, for smiling was contagious. It wasn't much different from the flu, an infection all its own. "Can't believe you got us a night here," Josh said, shaking his head with honest amazement.
"Then I've got good news, Bill said, taking a seat on the large bed next to Josh. "Debra says we can stay an extra night if we like." He stopped, as if letting Josh contemplate this choice, then started again. "That is, if you want to."
"Of course," Josh replied, leaning back down and closing his eyes. "Then I'll finally get a chance to get some rest."
"Hey, Josh! Check it out! They have eighteen different porn channels!" Zack called from the other room, his voice was filled with astonishment.
"That's great, Zack!" Josh called back in an uncaring voice.
"Do whatever you like," Bill carried on, seeming to ignore what Zack had just said (or simply not hearing it). "Just remember there's more to do here than sleep. You could go down to the pool or restaurant. I think she said there's even a place to get a massage."
Josh smiled and gave Bill a salute. "Will do, captain." His thoughts began drifting as he found himself tottering on the line that bridged consciousness from unconsciousness. Soon, he would topple and fall headfirst into the latter section. Before he could do so, Bill spoke up again.
"Where's your luggage?" Bill asked curiously, looking around at the impressive room. "I don't see it here."
"That's cause it's still on the bus," Josh said, finally opening his eyes. How could I forget that stupid bag! he thought with just a little anger. If he was going to stay an extra night, he would most certainly need that bag. Then there was another voice, one that goaded him for being so absentminded. Good work! Now you have to go back all the way downstairs and pick it up. See what happens when you become distracted from some stupid garden? Josh pushed this voice far away, not wanting to listen to its aggravating provocations.
Moaning, he sat back up and was once again hit with that same hammer of disillusionment. This time, he actually swayed with it. It was clear his body and mind were not happy with being denied that which they wanted more than anything else. Not once, but twice.
"Guess I gotta go get it, uh?" Josh complained.
"Yep, seems so." Bill eyed him curiously, probably wondering if Josh would make it downstairs without collapsing from exhaustion. "I'll come with you," he finally added.
Josh shook his head. "No, you don't have to. I can get it by myself. It's not that big of a bag." But Bill insisted. Josh was in no mood to argue (especially about something so dumb as receiving help) so he gave in, and the two of them left Room 11 of floor 19. Before leaving, he had turned back towards the bed he had just lain in. He could clearly see his imprint in the light, cream colored comforter. It reminded him of the snow angels he used to make as a child.
In the end, Josh was glad Bill had came, for he had helped him avoid a certain crisis in the lobby. One that he wouldn't be able to handle himself in his current fatigued state.
Bill and Josh reached the elevator. There was no 1st Floor button, but there was one clearly marked LOBBY. This was the one he pressed before turning his attention to the glass walls of the elevator. What he saw made his stomach do a small somersault. Below, in the lobby, a large mass of people had assembled. He had no doubt they were locals who couldn't wait until the concert to have their first glimpse at the band, Last Man Standing. Luckily, Josh was still in the elevator and they couldn't see him (thanks to the shaded glass). "Oh, no," he muttered under his breath. Bill said nothing, only gave a disapproving scowl at the crowd below.
Josh immediately pulled the bill of his hat down, attempting to disguise his person from the crowd. He realized it would do no good. With Josh's tattoos and long hair (Josh didn't think it was that long, but some other guests of the Lux Cher might disagree) he would be instantly recognizable against the regular cutout guests. He'd be like a red shirt in a sea of white. I won't step off, Josh thought. I'll just head back up to the room, unnoticed, and forgot about my bag. I can get it at anytime, anyway. It was a sound plan, all depending on if he could avoid the crowd when the elevator doors opened.
As it turned out, the elevator doors opened, and standing before Josh, was a small group of fans. That's the end of that plan. Luckily, the group of teenage boys didn't notice him for who he was. At least, not a first.
He managed to take a few steps out of the elevator, past the group of teens, before his cover was blown. "What a minute…" one of the adolescent boys whispered to his friends. "Was that Josh Hunter?"
With those four words, Josh's fate was sealed. He was quickly surrounded by the group, which was soon joined by nearly everyone else in the lobby. Voices surrounded him, filling his head no matter which way he turned. Immediately, he was overwhelmed. He was just having a sensory overload; too many people and too many voices.
This is when Bill stepped in. He spoke in a booming voice that commanded attention. "Everyone just hold on!" Josh was thankful when the crowd grew silent, allowing his throbbing head to recover slightly. "Josh has had a very busy day, and he does not have the time to give any autographs. Not now, at least." Bill's voice had dropped down to his regular, sociable voice (with just a little bit of a southern drawl). "He and the rest of the band will be signing autographs at the local CD store. If you wish to receive an autograph, head there at around seven o'clock. Thank you."
Josh wasn't surprised to hear a few disappointed sighs, but the crowd still managed to disperse. He gave a sigh of relief and looked gratefully at Bill. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
"It was nothing," Bill said genuinely. "Just helping out my band. I'm the manager, after all. It's what I do."
"Regardless, I really appreciate it. Later, I'll buy you a beer."
"Excuse me," a voice interrupted. Josh turned to see an older man and a younger boy who barely appeared to reach his teen years. The older man had jet-black hair that was cropped on the sides, and the boy (presumably the man's son) had the same color hair, though his was longer, the traditional cut of the American-youth.
"Hi, I'm Steven Miller, and this is my son, Michael," said the man. He gestured towards his son as he spoke. "Is it possible for him to have your autograph?"
Josh opened his mouth to speak, and he was sure whatever would come out would do so harshly. He couldn't stand people who thought they could find a way around the rules. People who didn't know when no meant no. Not to mention, something about this guy rubbed Josh the wrong way. He wasn't sure of what, and it was a strange feeling to have when just meeting a guy for the first minute.
Bill cut him off before he could speak, and it was a good thing he did so. "I'm sorry but both of us are completely exhausted and we would enjoy to get some rest before the concert. So why don't you just wait until later like I said." Bill's voice was gentle, and Josh had to give the man credit. The man was patient. Far more patient than he would have been. If he would have spoke, he would have probably thrown in a few cuss words right now, and then he would just end up coming out like a jerk.
"Actually, there was something else," Steven said. He spoke with slight hint of shame in his voice. Almost like he was admitting he had done something wrong. Josh had used that same voice as a kid when he had busted a neighbor's window while playing baseball. "I was just wondering if you had any extra tickets for the show. See, the concert's sold out, but I thought maybe you could help us out." Now, he understood. Obviously, the man had promised his son, Michael, a couple of tickets but had failed his promise. Josh couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Michael that was, not his father.
Then, Bill surprised Josh by reaching into his back pocket and producing two laminated cards. "These are backstage passes," he explained. "Now both of you can enjoy the concert." He handed them to the boy. His eyes lit up with joy and surprise, and he was so shocked he couldn't say a word. He only managed to mumble something under his breath that could be taken as a thank you.
With that, Bill ushered the two away. They left happily. The boy clutched the backstage passes before him, staring at them with bugging eyes. If the his eyes bugged out anymore, Josh was sure they would fall out.
After they had disappeared out the sliding front doors, Josh and Bill began their own walk, resuming their quest of retrieving Josh's luggage. "That was a very nice thing you did," Josh said at last, smiling at his father figure. "I thought you might have yelled at them. You know, tell them to get the fuck off."
Bill laughed at that. "No, that would be rude."
"Then why did you do it?" Josh asked with sincere curiosity.
Bill sighed, contemplating his answer. "Did you see the boy's face when I pulled out those two passes?" Josh nodded at this. Yes, he had seen the boy's face light up with the purest form of joy. He had to admit that seeing such joy had made his own heart lift.
"Well," Bill continued, "I just love helping out kids. It just makes me feel like a better person."
Totally understandable, he thought, ending that discussion.
Josh and Bill managed to find the tour bus with no problem. It was parked out back, as to not attract any attention. Josh knew it wouldn't work. In a secluded city like this, no matter how big or small (or seemingly vacant) it was, word would get around. He guessed that in no time flat, countless people would be coming to the hotel, asking which room Last Man Standing was staying in. He could only hope that the hotel employees didn't give in, but after seeing the efficiency Bill's sister, Debra, handled things, Josh thought he was in good hand.
"Do you think you'll be fine on the way back?" Bill asked as Josh pulled his duffel bag out of its storage compartment.
"Yeah," he answered. "I don't think I'll be having any trouble. Not after you saved me back there."
"Good. I'm going to go for a walk." Josh turned to head back towards the hotel, but Bill still had one more thing to say. "Don't forgot to be at the CD store at seven, sharply. I'll see you there." He gave a quick wave before turning his back on his manager and heading back towards the hotel.
He was grateful to see that the lobby was deserted, save for a lone man checking in. Bill had taken care of things before, and he was sure it would a long time before anyone else showed up with inquiry about Last Man Standing.
The man checking in looked like a wealthy businessman (looked wealthy from the hotel he chose to stay at, and like a business man from the suit he wore and the suitcase he carried), but something was wrong with him. His skin was unhealthily pale and he appeared to be itching himself all over. The man looked sicker than a dog, sick enough to warrant a visit to the hospital. No, a funeral home, Josh thought grimly.
Keeping as far away as possible from the sick man, he moved towards the elevator. It wasn't because he was afraid of catching a cold. God knew he had his fair share of flu's and colds, but it was something else. There was something about that man that just didn't seem right. It was probably nothing. Nothing more than him being distressed. After all, he was dog-tired.
He made it to the room without any trouble, just like Bill had said. He couldn't see any of his friends, but he was sure they were around. Maybe swimming in the pool, or maybe receiving one of those massages. Regardless of what they were doing, Josh was thankful he had the room to himself. The silence would make it easier for him to sleep. Much easier, in fact, when compared to the normal wild antics that happened on the tour bus.
He knocked loudly three times on one of the doors to the smaller bedrooms. He thought that everyone else had left, but it didn't hurt to make sure. There was no answer. Satisfied, Josh opened the door, threw off his shoes and baseball cap, and collapsed onto the single bed,
It took Josh longer to fall asleep then he originally thought. He had expected to fall into a deep coma-like sleep as soon as his head had connected to the pillow, but it wasn't so. He lay awake, thinking of the businessman he had seen not five minutes ago. That man was sick, he thought. What's he doing on a trip? He looked so bad he could have been… Josh couldn't finish that thought, for he fell asleep then.
He had meant to finish with the word dead. Yes. The man had looked so bad, he had had almost appeared dead.
A/N: So there you go. The first chapter of this particular fic. Not much action right now, but that's sure to change. Please tell me what you think. Tell me what you like/don't like/what could be improved etc. Take it easy.