The hairs on the back of Craig's neck were still standing up from his encounter with Tweek. After they had agreed to be professional, he had the sudden realization that they might be roommates tonight. Wendy had handed him the keycard without saying who had its pair. He didn't think he'd be able to handle rooming with Tweek tonight. not when there was a seventy percent chance that he was going to have more shower thoughts about the way he looked the night before.

To his relief, they were in separate rooms. Tweek stopped at room 814, while Craig continue to room 818. He slid the keycard into the door and waited for the click. He glanced over at Tweek's door before he opened it. Tweek was staring at him. Once Tweek saw that Craig had noticed, he startled and quickly opened the door, closing it behind him.

Once Craig was certain that Tweek's door was closed, he opened his own door to find who his surprise partner would be for the evening. He was immediately greeted by a series of warm-up scales and chord progressions on an unplugged guitar.

"Oh, hey dude!" said Clyde.

He was lying on the bed closest to the window and had clearly made himself comfortable in the short time he had been alone in the room. His suitcase was already open, some of its contents strewn around his side of the floor. He was also already half-naked, as he had stripped down to just a pair of black basketball shorts. Clyde had a build that was reminiscent of a lumberjack. Thick and strong, but with soft layer of fat around the midsection for those cold Colorado winters. He was also clearly not into "manscaping", but Craig appreciated it. He was honestly getting tired of the hairless scene back in New York.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm letting it all hang out a bit," Clyde laughed. "I know it sounds stupid, but I practice better naked."

Craig's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Clyde cut him off before he could make a retort.

"Mostly naked, that is! I promise I'm going to keep my pants on while on tour! I only go all out when I'm alone in my room. Or when I have a special guest with me, if you catch my drift."

Clyde laughed low in his throat. The sound sent Craig's thoughts in directions he really didn't need them to go in right now. It was bad enough that he had made the promise to himself that he'd have sex with someone and move on from Thomas this summer, and he had been horny lately—frustratingly so. He really didn't need to start finding every member of Humble Folx attractive. He really didn't need that kind of thirsty energy around him when he was trying to be a professional and not a horny groupie.

"Yeah. It's fine, dude. Clyde, right? I need to start remembering your names so I'm not just calling you all 'dude'. It'll get confusing."

"Yup, that's it! Don't wear it out!" Clyde laughed. "I only like hearing my name said over and over when I'm on stage in front of adoring fans, or when it's being called out by a hot piece of ass."

Clyde had a dopey grin on his face. He shut his eyes while his fingers danced up the guitar's neck.

Craig shook his head and rolled his eyes. Clyde was clearly overcompensating for something. He was probably in denial of his sexuality, or maybe afraid to come out to others. He could be overcompensating for his dick, but based on what Craig could see outlined through the cheaply made shorts, Clyde had nothing to worry about. Maybe he really was just one of those straight guys who felt the need to constantly tell people who straight they were. Craig really hoped it wasn't that, or then this summer would be a lot more difficult to survive.

Still, Craig was happy to have someone he could relate to in sheer level of horniness. He made a mental note to buy some ear plugs, just in case Clyde, or any other roommate, needed some private time during the tour.

"I'm gonna start writing my diary entry for today, if that's okay with you." Craig pulled his Surface Pro from his bag and crawled onto his bed.

"Yeah, dude! As long as you don't mind me playing, write on!" said Clyde.

Craig crossed his legs and opened up a word file. He scratched behind his ears, not really sure where to begin for this first entry. Not that much had happened during the day, in the grand scheme of things. Plus, the more significant things that happened to him personally weren't really something he should share with the world.

He started typing up some basic information—mainly about what the tour bus looked like, and his initial thoughts about what following the band would be like. He paused when he was done, tapping his fingers on the edge of the tablet. He was stuck.

Craig turned to look at Clyde while he practiced. He watched his long fingers flex and bend and move. Clyde's fingers were strong and calloused from years of playing. Craig's mind wandered to thinking about how rough Clyde's fingertips must feel, and how skilled his fingers would be with other activities. As soon as he felt his cheeks start to flush, he dug his fingernails into his thigh and cleared his throat.

Clyde opened his eyes to look at Craig. "What's up?"

"Uhh...on second thought...your playing is kinda...uh...distracting me."

Craig was afraid that Clyde would be able to see right through him. Thankfully, Clyde wasn't that perceptive.

"Yeah, dude, no problem! I'll just go take a shower so you can get your writing done."

"No!"

Craig's mouth yelled before his brain could stop him. If Clyde was this comfortable around strangers, there was a chance he'd come out of the shower buck naked, and Craig did not want to take that risk.

"I, uh...need you," Craig continued. "Need your help. I'm gonna...er, write short bios for each member of the band this week. That's how I'll start the diary off. You know...until the tour gets going and things start getting interesting."

"Oh, that's a great fucking idea!"

Clyde left his guitar on his bed and leapt over onto Craig's. He lied down across the bed, propping up his head on his arms.

"So whaddya wanna know?" he grinned.

Kenny startled when he heard the door slam shut. dropping his phone onto the bed. He looked up to see Tweek sliding down against the door until he was sitting on the floor. Tweek's face was buried in his hands, his upper body rocking gently back and forth. His hands muffled the long, monotone sound of agony that was coming from his throat.

"Hey, dude," said Kenny. He was unfazed by Tweek's actions at this point in their relationship. "It's about time you left the bus. It's not like we're barely going to be seeing it for the next two months."

Tweek slowly pulled his hands away from his face. It took him a moment, but he finally found his voice.

"I...I wasn't on the bus," he said. "I mean, I was, but I didn't just come from there. I mean, I did, but…"

"But? Spit it out, Tweek. What was it that took you so damn long?"

"I...ngh...I was in the elevator. Talking. Talking to the guy. The journalist guy."

"Craig? You know he has a fucking name, dude," Kenny laughed. "Alright, I'll bite. What did 'Mr. Journalist Guy' have to say?"

"He wanted to talk about him watching me get head in the bathroom last night."

Kenny keeled over onto his bed in a fit of laughter. "Of fucking course that's what he wanted to talk about!"

Tweek groaned and banged the back of his against the door.

"I am never letting you live that down, my man," Kenny said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "So was that it? He just wanted to thank you for the live porn or something?"

"Jesus Christ, Ken! No! I would be mortified if he'd said that!"

"More mortified than you are right now? That'd be impressive."

"He basically said he wanted to start fresh. Like...like forget the whole thing ever happened and just be professional."

"That sounds pretty normal," said Kenny. He cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. "You think you can be normal for once?"

Tweek grimaced. "Ngh...I can be normal."

"No. No, you really can't, dude," Kenny chuckled. "You're hypersexual, high strung, stubborn, anxious as fuck, and in general, just a mess of a human being. And that is why you're my friend. If you were normal, you'd be boring as shit."

"Uh...thanks?" Tweek rolled his eyes and pulled himself up off the floor. "You're a great friend, Kenny, I'm so glad you believe in me."

"Hey, I just call 'em like I see 'em."

Tweek walked over to his own bed and sat down. He pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his jeans and stuck it between his lips.

"Do you have a lighter on you?" he asked. "I can smoke in here, right? Cause now I'm a fucking rockstar and shit?"

"I don't think the hotel gives a fuck that we're a band. Also, do you really want to get chewed out by Wendy in the morning? Cause you know you wouldn't hear the end of it if the hotel staff tattled on us."

"Ugh, point."

Tweek plucked the cigarette from his mouth and stuffed it back into his pocket. He grumbled to himself as he stood up and began to pace around the room.

"This fucking sucks," he said.

"What does?" asked Kenny.

"This whole forgetting-it-never-happened thing."

"Dude, I'm sorry I said you can't be normal. Honestly, if you put your mind to it, I know you can do it."

"No, I can't," said Tweek. "I can't forget it ever happened and be strictly professional…cause now…I kinda want to fuck him."

Kenny let out a long sigh. "Of course you do. Damn, you're even worse than me sometimes," he muttered under his breath. "Sure dude, whatever. He is pretty cute. Just fuck him and get it out of your system asap so that you can focus on the tour and doing that damn interview. That's the whole reason he's here, remember?"

Tweek ran his fingers through his hair and grabbed a fistful of his green locks, giving it a tug. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Plus, you should probably make sure he's into dudes first." Kenny returned to scrolling through his phone. He was growing bored with the ongoing conversation.

"He must be...right?" Tweek mused as he continued to pace back and forth. "Why else would he have lingered? Why would he have stopped to stare at me getting a blowjob if he was straight?"

Kenny looked up from his phone, incredulous. "Tweek. I'm very disappointed in you. You are not that naive. Most guys like getting blowjobs and would therefore be turned on by seeing someone get one, no matter what their sexuality is. It's not like straight guys never watch straight porn because there's another dude's dick flopping around."

"Yeah. Okay. Fine. But… It's just… You should have seen the way he was looking at me, Kenny. I can't get that out of my head. He had this hungry look in his eyes, and he was licking his bottom lip just a little. It was incredibly sexy. It kinda looked like maybe he-"

"Craved a blowjob of his own?" Kenny said.

Tweek stopped moving, choosing to stare at himself in the room's full length mirror. His hair was a mess and the bags under his eyes looked darker than usual. He really needed to get some sleep tonight.

"I dunno," he sighed. "Maybe it's just me seeing things that weren't really there. Maybe it's just wishful thinking cause he's cute and two rooms down."

"Well, buddy, it sounds like you have quite the predicament. I guess you have a few options," said Kenny. "You can take your time, get to know the guy, and feel out his sexual preferences that way. You could steal his laptop and take a look at his porn. Or you could just straight up ask him to go down on you."

"Gah! What the fuck, Kenny! Are you fucking insane?"

"Of course you'd both be drunk first. I mean…it's not like that strategy hasn't worked for you many times before," Kenny grinned.

Tweek pulled at his hair. "Nghh….nggghh….fuck! I don't give a shit about hotel policy, I need a fucking cigarette! Gimme your goddamn lighter!"