I blinked. Seriously? Why should I believe him? He was an international rock/pop star! He was an asshole, and most likely, a liar. There was no incentive to me believing any word he said. None at all. So, why was I believing every single word he said?

Red Pens; Chapter Two: Furry Eyebrows and Cocaine Coca-Cola?

I bit my lip, to keep from squealing. The flight hostess had just said that we were two hours away from our destination. London, England! God, I was going to London! The best place in the world! There was rain almost every single day, and the best accents, and even the best music, aside from McFly. They sucked, obviously.

A snore interrupted me from my train of thought. I shot up, into an upright position, staring at the girl from which the snore emitted from. Adrienne. The only person I knew that snored. She just had to have the father that snored, all the time. Well, not all the time, but he did occasionally snort when he was talking. Sleep-talking, too. It was creepy, but making fun of him was just hilarious. For an old guy, he definitely was insecure about his snoring problem. Unlike Adrienne, who just liked being a free-spirit. She'd openly admit that she snored, any day.

I didn't get it. She was completely and hopelessly shy around certain people, but otherwise, she just did whatever. That included randomly kissing guys (girls, too.) It scared me a bit, but I tried to ignore it. Most of the time, I succeeded. That was, until she started making out with girls. Then I would either tell her to stop, or run for my life. It's not good when she suggests having a threesome. It's just horrifying.

Huffing, I grabbed my laptop. A red iMac, AKA; my baby. Smirking, I opened it up, clicking the on button. I resisted the urge to clap cheerfully as the screen quickly lit up. No new messages. Huh. Was Adrienne my only friend that would actually talk to me? Well, no… There were the guys, but they were guys. They wouldn't bother e-mailing me, unless they wanted to ask me out. That was just impossible.

Surfing the web, I realized that I didn't need to know about American news, for a few months. Adrienne and I were taking a year off college, so, of course, we had a few months in London. Actually, we were getting a penthouse there, since we'd be there, at least half a year. It was heaven, on earth. I grinned, and checked out google, searching for London news. There were tons of sites, so I chose the first one. It looked reliable. Different parts for different subjects. Holy hell, McFly had their own page! Jeeze, egotistical bastards, they didn't deserve their own webpage. Wait. They had myspace, facebook, their own official site.. God.

That just wasn't fair. How could England love these guys? Yes, their music was semi-good, but only a few songs! And most of them were covers! Not even their own songs! Damn. It was probably their good looks. It had to be, there was no other reason. And their funny music videos. I groaned. I couldn't fall for their good looks, or sense of humor! It was just unhealthy to obsess over a rock/pop star!

Biting my lip, I shut the laptop down, closing it, and returning it to it's rightful place in my messenger bag. I leaned back, pulling the lever that made the seat move. A grunt sounded from behind me, as she chair hit something.

"' 'Ey! Watch where you're moving that thing!" The voice was British. I rolled my eyes. Who cared? It was just a seat. He'd have to deal with a seat on his lap. I wasn't moving the thing. I was going to be comfortable on this trip, especially considering that I woke up at six am for it!

"Are you deaf, woman?" Another British voice yelled. I ignored it. Why were British people headed to England, not leaving it? One of the men groaned, apparently getting up, and leaning his head dangerously close to mine.

"Look, lady, my friend is in pain right now. The circulation in his leg is being cut off. Now, I suggest that you move that seat!" He yelled. He had thick-rimmed glasses, and blonde hair. Adrienne decided to snore, very loudly at that point. My head shot over to her. Still fast asleep. I stared, along with the blonde-haired dude.

"Your friend's weird." I nodded, pursing my lips. She was definitely an interesting person. I turned my head to the guy again. He looked familiar. Eh. Who cared? I was going to London, a place where I would most likely never see him again. Couldn't his friend just move?

"I don't want to move. I'm tired. I've been up since 4 AM, and all I want is some sleep!
I yelled to his face, eyes closed. I really was tired. Huh. Was I sleep-yelling? Shaking my head, I looked back to the guy. He was glaring.

"Whot?" I asked, mimicking a British accent. He groaned, slapping his forehead. I was annoying him? Oh, goodie! Grinning, I sat up in my seat, turning to face him.

"Banana phone, banana phone!" I sang, my voice high. His eyes widened. The other guy, whoever he was, burst out laughing. I clapped my hands together. Ah, so somebody wasn't annoyed with that? Then I've succeeded in finding someone who has high tolerance!

"Oh yeah. Can't forget this." I paused, letting my front teeth show. My ultimate impression of Danny Jones. It was funny.

"I'm Danny Jones! I'm an egotistical bastard who likes cheating on girls! Durrr!" The blonde-haired guy furrowed his eyebrows, while the other one remained silent. What? What had I said? Nothing offending, right? Oh, wait. McFly was just so precious to England. No wonder. What was up with people and McFly? Seriously!

"That… Isn't funny." The other one mumbled. Now that I listened more closely, his accent didn't seem quite so British. Actually, it seemed Irish. I sighed. Why wasn't it funny? Danny Jones… He just wasn't suitable to be the prince of rock.

"And why not?" I asked, pulling the chair back into it's normal position. The Irish guy sighed with relief. I still couldn't see him. Of course, the blonde guy had to be staring at me. Come on, talk about personal space? He didn't look too happy.

"Because. Having somebody say crude things like that about you just… isn't fun." I blanked. Then winced. Then I groaned, being interrupted as the plane took a sharp turn, causing me to fall into the aisle. Ouch. Both for falling, and the fact that I called Danny Jones an egotistical bastard straight to his face. Wait. Never mind. That was good! He could finally get what he deserved.

Standing up, I resorted to using the seats to hold myself up. What was that pilot doing up there? The plane was all… shaky. And annoying. It was like turbulence. I blinked rapidly. Headache. Major headache. Turning my gaze over to the seats that were behind mine, I saw the blonde-haired guy, and a brunette. With buck-teeth. His face was twisted into one of pain, and exhaustion. I quirked an eyebrow.

"Did I really cause that much damage to your legs?" "Danny" looked up at me. He promptly shook his head, with a forced smile. The blonde-haired one almost laughed. Almost. He had a sympathetic look on his face.

"Danny has motion-sickness. On planes, at least." I could tell that Danny was resisting the urge to smack him. Aww, wittle Danny was scawed of pwanes? Nice. I laughed.

"You'd think that you'd be used to planes, being a 'rock star,' and all." I made quotation marks in the air. I didn't believe that he was a true rock star. I despised him that much. He just sighed, leaning his head against the seat in front of me. Meaning, my seat. He needed to get his ego off my seat.

"Please, take your ass of a head off my seat." Danny glanced at me, from the corner of his eyes. Then turned his face into the seat. He moved his face all over it, and it looked like he was making out with it. Oh, shit! He was making out with my seat!

I blinked. What the hell was wrong with this guy? I looked over at Adrienne. She was still asleep. I sighed, taking a seat in the row that the two McFly members were in. Great. Now I'd have to burn that seat. Wait. It was a plane seat. Not mine. That meant, that I could leave this plane, and never see it again! Yes! Up with awesome things, down with Danny Jones!

"Okay, so, where's the rest of your god forsaken band?" I asked, crossing my legs. I assumed the blonde one to be Dougie. They always said that he was blonde... Right?

"Harry's with Dougie. They decided to go back, and try to make that little girl happy. Y'know, be nice, be funny. Cheer her up." I blinked. Oh. So he wasn't Dougie. I knew who Danny was, and I'd heard of Dougie. So, who was this other guy. Definitely not Harry. I bit my lip.

"So… Your name is… Ad.." I started off, and he shook his head. I sat there, for quite a while, trying to figure out his name. In the end, I groaned, throwing my hands in the air. It was hopeless! His name had to be extremely unique. Had I gone through every single letter? I think I had.

"His name is Tommy! Jeeze, you're slow! How do you not know his name?!" I shifted my gaze up to a very hyperactive boy. His hair was a very dirty blonde, and curly. For some reason, it looked like he hadn't showered in a while. Gross. Another guy was behind him, his hair was pretty cool-looking. His face was just... weird. He looked like he had a stick up his ass. Hopefully, he didn't.

"Well, excuse me for not liking McFly." The boy's eyes widened, and he turned to the others. He mouthed something to them, jabbing a finger in my direction. I rolled my eyes. Come on. I would take any insult they had for me, happily. I could easily come up with something to call them, in less than a second. It was easy to insult people you hated. As they continued mouthing things to each other, I proceeded to ball up a napkin, and throw it at the 'stick up his ass,' guy. I wasn't sure if it was Dougie or Harry. I was guessing Harry. His eyes narrowed, and he grabbed a plastic cup, chucking it at my head. I, unfortunately, didn't duck.

"Hey!" I yelled. 'Harry' began running, toward the other side of the plane. I hopped over the seat, and ran after him, clutching a seat in my hand. Yes, a seat. The one that you grabbed if the plane were to crash in water. Using that, I finally managed to catch up to him, and tackle him to the ground. He grunted, with a whimper.

"Don't hurt me! I'm a drummer! I need my hands! And feet! And everything!" He paused. Was he seriously scared? I huffed, and hit his head with the seat. He grumbled, rubbing his head. Bastard. He deserved it! He threw a cup at me! Anyone who throws something at me deserved to be hit in the head with a plane seat! It was taken for granted!

"Please get off me." He mumbled. I stood up, stepping away from his body. Immediately, he jumped up, grabbing the seat from me, and began hitting me with it. I used my arms as a shield. That wasn't fair, dammit! That wasn't fair!!

A few hours later, Harry and I were still attacking each other. We were shocked that the flight attendants hadn't yelled at us. Tom, Dougie, and Danny were looking at us, obviously amused. I flipped them off, and once again tackled Harry. He groaned, trying to shove me off.

"You may be extremely light, but that doesn't mean that you hurt me." He continued trying to push me off. I resisted, holding onto his shirt. He tore his shirt off, running back to his fellow band mates. What the hell? Harry was now hiding behind them, looking at me, as if he was scared for his life. Tom grabbed a seat.

"Stay away from the stud-muffin! We need him!" I smirked, as I saw Adrienne looming behind him. She was standing on her seat, with a book in hand. She slapped the book over his head. Of course, he fell over, with a loud moan. Whew, that had to hurt. I giggled, walking over to Harry's hiding spot. Everyone was crouched around Tom, who seriously looked like he was in pain. I shrugged. I didn't like them. I was never going to see them again, once we all got off the plane.

As the hostess announced that we were to be landing, I squealed, and jumped into my seat, ignoring the fact that it had 'Danny cooties' on it.

"London, London, London!" I cheered, grinning. Adrienne joined me, pumping her fist in the air. The guys behind us thought we were crazy. We were. We just loved scaring people, by showing it off. It was fun. Tom, who had ice on his head, only murmured something about newbies, and retards. I knew he was talking about us, but I didn't quite care.

"MERE-BEAR! We're almost in London!" Adrienne screeched, jumping around in her seat. I deadpanned. Mere-bear? No… I hated that nick-name. And she had to say it, in front of a band who hated my guts! I was screwed. They'd hold it against me forever. I slumped in my seat, as I heard distinct whisperings of, "Mere-bear?" They were laughing at the thought. Adrienne patted my head. Great. She had officially ruined the mood.

Turning in my seat, I pointed at her.

"You have fuzzy eyebrows!" Adrienne gasped, her hands shooting up to her forehead. Then I pointed to her glass of coca-cola.

"And I spiked that with cocaine!"