A/N: Sorry for the delay in the update! I've been very busy with work and school. Also, since I have a habit of writing out of chronological order, I have future chapters "done" I just have to create the chapters to GET to those ones!
As always, thank you for the reviews and hello there new followers! Enjoy!
Rinoa held the bottle of antibiotics in her palm and reflexively shook it. The pills clamoured inside the plastic casing, the noise rattling within her ears. "Take one every four hours until the bottle is empty. Always on a full stomach." She glanced up at Caraway who was blissfully filling himself up with a second cup of coffee.
He gave her a soft grunt to show he acknowledged her words.
She received the call from the hospital that Friday morning that her father was ready for discharge. He was more than happy to catch himself a cab, but since Rinoa was already out and about running errands for the new studio, she offered to just come get him. Also, it enabled her to make sure he was going straight home and following doctor's orders.
After leaving the hospital they stopped by the pharmacy and the grocery store to pick up a few items. Now Caraway was shuffling through the kitchen to put the groceries away, coffee mug in hand, still dressed in the faded blue jeans and gray t-shirt Rinoa had brought him. The outfit looked so alien on him. He looked so out of place without his regular dress of uniform with sharp shoulders and shining medals. He looked…normal—aside from the bandage that was still wrapped around his head.
Her phone called for her attention and she slid her finger over the smooth surface. She smiled. It was a picture message from Quistis. She had been sending Rinoa quick snapshots of their roadtrip for her to put up on the band's page.
Q.T: He snores.
The picture was a high overhead shot of Quistis, her finger pressed to her lips. Behind her was a sleeping figure with his head resting against the window pane. Rinoa bit back a giggle when she saw that it was Squall, curled up against the door with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs covered with what appeared to be bags of luggage.
R.H: Are you piling things on him?
Q.T: Yep. Seeing how much I can get on him before he wakes up.
R.H: You are playing a dangerous game.
Q.T: =)
Chuckling to herself, Rinoa filtered through her messages from Quistis to find a round of pictures that were sent earlier. They were pictures of the boys, taking a quick break from their road trip. They had pulled over at a rest stop and walked around for a bit to stretch their legs. During their little walk Zell had wandered off and excitedly called for the rest to come quick to see what he had discovered. Zell had found a rather large armadillo and was instantly fascinated by its size. Irvine and Squall approached him and Quistis brought out her phone, knowing full well that something hilarious was about to happen.
Irvine, being the bright star that he was, decided to poke the armadillo with a stick, expecting it to roll up into a ball because "that's what they do on those animal documentary shows." Squall advised against it though he made no move to stop the cowboy, and instead just sipped from his coffee cup.
Naturally, Irvine ignored Squall's monotonous warning and poked the creature. Rather than curl up into a ball, the armadillo began to charge. Quistis had told Rinoa that she wished she had caught the sight on video, but that she was glad that she at least had some photographic evidence of Irvine looking as if he just about shit himself.
Rinoa set the prescription bottle onto the counter and stood to her feet. "Don't think I won't call you every four hours to make sure you take them."
"Understood," Caraway said, bringing the mug to his lips. "Did you make up with your friend?"
Rinoa paused in reaching for her purse. "Huh?"
"You went out with your friend from the hospital and then the next morning you came in looking very upset. Now you look as if you're glowing. So, did you make up with your friend?"
Rinoa's lips ticked in annoyance at her father's perceptive eye. He always was astute to how she was feeling about certain things and people even though she tried her best to keep it concealed. It was when she was upset with him that his talents of perceptiveness suddenly vanished. "Yes," she said lowly, slinging the purse strap over her shoulder. "Yeah, we're fine."
"That's good." Caraway moved over to the cabinet and pulled out a plastic bag filled with onion bagels. With his back turned to her, he spoke firmly as he sawed into the bagel. "He seems to be a good man, but just let him know that if he hurts you, I'll kill him."
Rinoa couldn't help but grin—even as she was rolling her eyes—at Caraway's fatherly threat. There was no doubt in her mind that Caraway's threat actually held valid truth, but she just could not picture him and Squall going at it. Both were too calm and stoic that picturing them throwing punches at each other just seemed too alien and so out of place that it seemed almost hysterical. She had seen her father in action on shooting ranges and in the boxing ring on base before…but she had never seen Squall do anything other than thrash across his drums. She sucked on her bottom lip as she thought to Squall's muscular arms wildly crossing over the skins, his fists dominantly holding the drumsticks as he used them to beat the cymbals.
"Yes, Caraway," she said with a smile.
"I'm being serious." He placed the bagel slices into the toaster oven and turned the dial. "Artemis speaks fondly of him, but since I've only known her a few days I cannot be fully behind her judgement. But…" He glanced at her over his shoulder and lifted a thick eyebrow. "I saw the way you look at him."
Rinoa made a gruff noise within her throat. "Whatever," she said, feeling her cheeks warm.
She looked down at her phone and saw that it was just after two—she had plans to meet Zone and Watts at the new studio so they could set up the lobby. "Shit, I gotta go," she said. "I'll call you later to make sure you took your pills."
"Of course," Caraway said over his shoulder, waving the serrated knife in the air. "Have fun setting up your new office."
When Rinoa arrived at her new office, Zone had already set up her first job. "Senior photos," he told her, handing her a sheet of paper with the client's information on it. "She's an avid equestrian so during our consulation we decided that the shoot will be at her family ranch. Easy peasy."
"Lemon squeezy," Rinoa added. "Great, thanks." She folded up the paper and stuck it into her purse. "You got the deposit already?"
"Already cashed the check when I met with her and her parents the other day. You are all set for Sunday." Zone wiped at his forehead and sent her a nod. "Did you grab those curtin rod hooks I asked for?"
Rinoa adjusted the shopping bag that dangled from her arm. "I did," she proudly said.
"Great." Zone held up a small tool box. "Alright, get to work. Watts and I already painted the main lobby so it's all set for you to hang up all the hardware."
Rinoa made a face. She preferred to paint.
"Sorry, Princess," Watts called out to her with a smile. "But while you were busy schmoozing with the rock stars we had already started the refurbishing." In response to the sharp glare he received, Watts only sent her a charming grin and adjusted the knit beanie he wore upon his head.
"I was working," Rinoa snapped. "Not schmoozing. Asswipe."
Watts chuckled and brought over the stepladder he had been using. "Oh, yes, of course! There is no doubt of that—the photos you've published onto their site are phenomenal." He reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone. "I have to say…I think this one is my favorite." After a few moments of scrolling through the online album, Watts held up his phone to show Rinoa the photo she had taken of Zell at Saturday's show.
The strobing lights were playing behind him, making his figure a dark silhouette at the front of the stage. Rinoa had captured him during one of his rifts, his boot placed upon the stage's floor light so that his leg was bent, his broad shoulders slightly hunched as he let the music rip through his fingers. Even though the light was behind him and most of his form was concealed in shadow, his facial features were still revealed. Across his face was pure concentration and bliss, lost within the euphoria musicians felt when the music they created flow from their soul.
"Thank you," Rinoa said, her smile growing as she thought back to the show. Wow, it was only last week… she thought. Time had been flying by at such a speed that she hardly had time to breathe.
"Actually…I think this one is my favorite," Watts corrected himself, he swiped through his phone and pulled up a photo from Rinoa's photography page. It was the one she took of all of them just before they headed for the beach.
Rinoa almost made a squeak within her throat at the sight of the picture. "We're so cute!" she cooed, her eyes drifting over everyone's grinning faces.
"Oh, yes," Watts said in a voice that made Rinoa pause. Laced in his tone was a hint of teasing and something else that said that he was leading up to a point in particular. He held the phone up and looked at the photo. "Cute indeed," he said. "Especially this guy whose cheek is quite close to yours."
There it is.
Rinoa's shoulders slumped slightly and she narrowed her eyes at him. "And your point is…?"
Zone snapped his head in their direction and hastily set the tool box onto the ground. "Wait…what? What guy?" He snagged the phone from Watts's hand and stared intently at the picture. After a moment he looked at Rinoa. "Who's this?" he demanded, his voice cracking.
Rinoa pressed her lips together as she watched Zone become flustered. It was common knowledge between the three of them that Zone had once had a crush on Rinoa, however, Zone was the only one who thought that Rinoa didn't know. She simply shrugged. "That would be Squall, the drummer. And the blonde guy is the guitarist, Zell." She stepped forward and tapped a nail on Irvine's face. "That's the singer, Irvine, and the brunette is his girlfriend Selphie—who went to DECA with me. And the drop dead gorgeous blonde is Quistis, the bassist."
"Well, Squall looks pretty damn comfy with you," Zone said in a huff.
Rinoa rolled her eyes and snatched the phone from his hand before giving it back to Watts. "Now look what you've started," she scolded, pulling the knit cap from his head and tossing it behind her shoulder. Trying her hardest to look stern, she narrowed her eyes at him when he ruffled his fingers through the mop of sandy blonde hair that sat upon his head.
"So…you like him, don't you?" Zone said, his tone suddenly lightening into a teasing mood. His dark grey eyes sparkled with mischief and he reached out to daintily prod her shoulder. "Let me guess…you like like him!"
Rinoa laughed and smacked away his hand. "Haven't figured that out yet," she replied. When Watts gave her a look she said, "What? He's on tour! We've decided to figure us out when his tour is over."
Watts nodded his head as he thought about Rinoa's statement. "Makes sense," he commented. "Well, I hope everything works out how you want it to." He leaned over and picked up the tool box Zone had set down. "Now get to work."
Rinoa stuck out her tongue but snapped the tool box out of his grasp.
Friday night/Saturday morning
Squall let out a long yawn, his tongue curling as his breath escaped him. His shoulders dropped and he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. They had finally arrived to their destination in Dollet. He checked his watch, it was just after two in the morning. He glanced over to Zell, who had been the one to finish the long trek.
The blonde man ran his fingers through his hair, which was now hanging in front of his eyes since it had been without its famously strong hair gel the last few days. Zell groaned as he arched his spine backwards. "Fuckin hell," he muttered.
Quistis practically tumbled out of the van, catching her balance by gripping her fingers around Zell's bicep. "We're here," she moaned. "We're dead but we're here…"
Irvine let out a long and rumbling groan as he stretched his arms up into the air. "Man…what a fuckin' drive." He looked over to Zell and gave his drooping head a quick shake. "How you holding up, buddy?"
"Coffee," was the strained response. "Or Jack Daniels. Either one."
Squall nodded his head. "I'm with him."
"Hey guys!"
Irvine turned his head at the sudden call. He squinted his eyes for a moment, trying to see the face of the approaching figure. When the man stepped beneath the dim lamp light of the parking lot, Irvine rose his arms in the air and gave an excited holler. "Hans! How's it going, you son of a bitch!"
Hans, a tall and burly man with a long and full caramel colored beard, embraced Irvine with thick and tatted arms. "Man, you guys are a godsend." He pulled away and gave Squall a hearty smack on the shoulder. "Seriously, thanks so much for joining our tour."
"Thanks for thinking of us specifically," Quistis grinned. "We were pretty excited when our band manager told us that Djin Theory had recommended us."
Hans turned eyes to her and he immediately sent her a charming smile. "For you, beautiful, anything."
"Oh, stop," Quistis said, waving her hand at him in a laughing nonchalant matter. "Where's everyone else? Did you guys play a show tonight?"
"No, last night we did." Hans glanced over his shoulder and pointed to the motel he had just come out of. "We came into town a little earlier today, Fujin demanded we get a motel room this time. Normally it's just the tour bus." He gestured towards the long and tall bus that was parked near the end of the motel's parking lot. A door closed behind him and he looked over, a grin forming onto his lips. "Speak of the devil."
Fujin approached, her painted lips upturned into a wide and purple smile. "Yay, you guys have arrived!" She wrapped her arms around Hans's waist and gave him a stern frown. "I thought you were heading to the gas station to get more beer."
"I was. Got distracted." He flinched when Fujin gave an audible sigh and he quickly slipped from her grasp. "Going right now." Hans lifted his chin to Squall. "Wanna walk with me? It's right around the corner."
Squall gave a nod and quickly lit himself a cigarette before following him out.
Fujin watched the two walk away and turned towards Quistis and Irvine. "How was the drive?" she asked, leaning in to give Zell and quick hug.
"Long," Zell moaned. "Decided to bling out your eye-patch, huh?"
Fujin chuckled and lightly ran her fingers over the black, studded patch that concealed her left eye. "Yeah, thought I might jazz it up a bit. Now that I make it all pretty I don't get asked about it much anymore…people just think that it's part of my image."
"And you shaved your head!" Quistis exclaimed, rounding behind the shorter girl and running her fingertips over the back of her head, shorn almost to the scalp. "Your hair was much longer when we played that show together last holiday."
Fujin ran her fingers through the longer section of her silver hair, the longest strands just barely reaching the sharp point of her chin. "Thought I'd try something new! Still getting used to it—plus, I feel like I'm having Royce take clippers to it nearly every other week!"
"Oh yeah, that'll happen," Zell said. "The shorter your hair is the more often you get your hair cut. Look at this fucker," he grimaced, hooking a thumb into Irvine's direction. "He gets his hair cut maybe once a year."
Irvine narrowed his eyes. "Can't help it I was blessed with hair from the gods." He pulled out his phone and started typing away.
"Alerting the masses that you've arrived in Dollet?" Fujin asked.
Irvine chuckled but shook his head. "Nah, letting the little lady know that we arrived safely."
Fujin's mouth dropped open and she squealed. "Little lady! Selphie? Tell her I said hi!"
"Will do."
After a while Hans and Squall returned with their arms filled with bags. "Alright so we grabbed some more beer, some snacks, and a few other bottles," Hans listed off as he glanced down at his purchases. "Figured you were hungry so I got you some chips."
Immediately Fujin reached in and yanked out the bag of salty goodness.
"Zell, here's your Jack." Squall reached into his brown paper bag and grabbed the whiskey bottle around its neck.
"Oh, fuck yes." Zell took hold of the bottle and quickly broke open the seal. "So, Hans said something about you guys getting a motel room instead of your tour bus?"
Fujin nodded and motioned for them to follow her. "Yeah, before we came into Dollet we stopped at the casino just outside of town. Won five hundred bucks!"
"So she decided we use our winnings to get us a motel room," Hans finished. "I mean, it ain't Deling Hotel ritzy but it sure as hell beats the tour bus!" They walked up to room 217 and Hans watched Fujin slide the key card through.
Inside were the two remaining band members, Esteban and Royce. Royce was sitting on the edge of one of the Queen-sized beds, his dark eyes glued to the television in front of him. His long, black dreadlocks just barely brushed the tops of his shoulders and his arms were reaching upwards, his fingers adjusting the gray bandana wrapped around his head. He glanced up at the entering group and lifted his chin in acknowledgement. "Having a party, are we?" he asked.
"Just for a little bit," Fujin said. "Esteban passed out already?"
The other man, laying across the bed that Royce was sitting on, lifted his head. "What do you mean already?" he demanded. "It's after two!" With a grunt he pushed up onto his elbows and scratched his fingernails over his shorn scalp.
"He can't hang," Royce said, graciously accepting the packet of red licorice that Hans handed over. With a piece of a Red Vine dangling between his teeth, Royce added, "Ever since he turned twenty-eight he can't hack it with the younger crowd."
Esteban shot out a hand and knocked Royce off the bed. "Shut up, young cub."
Fujin laughed and sat down upon the small sofa that was set up across from the two beds. "Royce, be nice to your bandmates," she lectured, softly nudging him with the toe of her boot.
"Yes, mama bear," Royce said from the ground, slowly chewing on his licorice.
Zell sat down on the empty bed and took a long swallow from his bottle. "Oh, fuck yes," he groaned. "Sweet nectar of life from the gods!" He handed the bottle to Squall who quickly tossed a shot back. "So, how has tour life been treating you? We're pretty damn excited," Zell asked.
Hans sat down in between the two beds and rested his elbows upon his knees. "As you should be! It's crazy…pretty hectic, not even going to lie. Tomorrow you'll meet our tour manager and the rest of the staff. They're pretty awesome."
Fujin sipped from the beer she grabbed from one of Hans's bags. "So we're on at eleven, I think you guys play two sets before us."
"How are the other bands?" Quistis asked, taking hold of Zell's bottle.
"They're great," Esteban said. "Odin's Blade—who I think is the set before us—will be here in the morning, they decided to hang out at the casino a little longer."
Irvine bobbed his head as he listened. "There's four bands, right? Who's the fourth band?"
"Doomtrain."
Zell nearly dropped his bottle. "Oh, shit! They've been around for years!"
Fujin giggled. "Yeah, I love them! They're all in their forties and are doing this just for fun! I want to be just like them when we grow up." She turned her head slightly and caught Squall yawning. "Since we're staying in the motel, you guys can sleep in the tour bus, if you want."
Quistis made a face. "Aw, fuck. I completely forgot that we have a van."
Hans lifted his leg and gave Quistis's foot a nudge. "It's how you always start off. We all slept in a van too until we started making some cash and was able to afford a bus." He wagged his eyebrows at her and stroked his beard. "You can sleep on the couch with me," he suggested.
Quistis arched a perfect brow. "Couch?"
"Yeah, Royce kicks around in his sleep."
"Ignore him," Fujin groaned, rolling her eye. "He sleeps on the couch because the seat cushions are firm and it helps with his back." She reached over and grabbed the keys. "You guys are more than welcome to utilize the bus until we start driving again."
Squall walked over and took the keys. "So tomorrow night—well, I guess it's today now—we're playing at Occult. Our next show is when? Tuesday?"
"Yeah, but it's not far from here. Just the next city over, so we technically don't have to go anywhere."
"Well, I for one am all for sleeping in the bus. As long as we can use the shower in here as well," Quistis chirped.
"There's a shower in the bus," Royce said.
Quistis blinked. "Fuck. Yes."
Squall pulled out his cigarettes and headed for the door. "I'll start moving some of our shit into the bus," he said. "Thanks for letting us use it."
Fujin nodded her head. "Anytime! Sleeping in a van is not fun—we know!"
"Squall, did you need help moving some of bags over?" Irvine asked.
"Nah, it's not like there's a lot."
Zell raised his arms overhead and gave a stretch. "You passing out once you move shit over?"
Squall nodded as his hand came around the door knob. "That's the plan. Night guys."
After he moved everyone's overnight bags into the tour bus, Squall changed into his plain black sweats and stood outside with his cigarette. Absently he scrolled through his phone, his attention seemingly searching for nothing, his thumb mindlessly tapping 'like' on random pictures and posts.
It was when his eyes landed on the back of a petite raven-haired girl in jean shorts atop a ladder, screwdriver in hand as she appeared to be leveling a curtain rod, that he paused and felt a sharp grin cut into his lips.
Her long black hair was twisted off into a pony tail that draped down the curve of her spine, the gray tank top just barely reaching the tops of her shorts and so showing a teasing hint of flesh. Those perfect inked wings along her shoulder blades and backs of her arms were open, the illusion appearing as if the wings were spread and prepared to take flight.
His breath stilled as he stared at the photo. He read the caption: "These jerks made me do ACTUAL labor!" in her voice.
He exhaled one last cloud of smoke through his lips and went back inside the bus. Near the back of the bus were the "beds," two sets of bunk beds that hung off the sides. The beds were fairly wide for comfort, but were definitely not made to cater to people taller than five-foot-six. He crawled into one of the bottom ones, maneuvering his body so that his legs were bent so he could fit comfortably.
Squall shifted onto his back, his knees bumping the bottom of the bed above him. Grimacing at the sharp flash of pain, he opened up a new message to Rinoa. However, since his attention was on rubbing his knee and sleep deprivation was starting to fog his brain, he accidentally hit 'call' with his thumb.
He hadn't even realized what he'd done until Rinoa's silky voice filled the silence of the tour bus.
"Hello?"
Squall jerked and looked at the contraption in his palm. "Hey," he said.
He heard her chuckle softly, her voice thick and rumbling as if she were laying in bed. The thought made him wince. Shit, what time is it over there now? "Sorry, is it too late to call? I don't even know what time it is anymore," he muttered.
"It's almost midnight, I think," she said. "I wasn't sleeping, just laying in bed reading."
"What are you reading?"
"A murder mystery."
"Very nice." Squall shifted in the bed again, this time taking more care not to bump his knee again. "Just…uh, wanted to let you know that we've arrived in Dollet."
"Yay! How was the drive?"
"Fucking brutal."
"And the armadillo?"
Squall actually laughed out loud before he could stop himself. He raised his hand and ran his fingers through his hair. "I think Irvine will make a full physical recovery. His ego, however, was definitely taken down a notch."
Rinoa giggled and he could hear her move around. He sucked in a breath as his mind created a picture for him—Rinoa wrapped around in her sheets, her long black hair spilling over her bare shoulders as she rolled around onto her stomach, her phone cradled against her cheek as she grinned. Beneath those sheets—Squall saw her owning sheets that were dark blue or even a royal purple—she would be completely nude to keep cool from the warm night temperatures. Squall smothered a groan that threatened to rise from his throat…there was no time to think of her like that, especially since there was no place for him to go and take care of his urges.
"His poor ego," she purred.
"Yeah. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know we got here ok."
Rinoa made an affirmative noise within her throat and Squall heard her softly yawn. "Thank you," she said. "Get some sleep, I'm sure you're exhausted—plus you have your first show tomorrow night!"
"Yeah…I think Zell mentioned that Djin Theory usually live streams their entire show."
She chuckled again…that silky, seductively breathy sound. "Just send me the website and time of your set," she told him. "And send me pictures! I'll take care of your web page while you guys are on tour."
"Will do."
"If I don't get a chance to talk to you tomorrow…have a great show," she said. "I hope you guys do something fun when you're not playing shows though."
"We will. Good night, Rinoa."
"Good night," she said.
Rinoa hung up and looked at the screen on her phone that flashed the words CALL ENDED. Then the screen changed to her regular home screen wallpaper, a shot she took during the beginning stages of a thunderstorm that took place while she was shooting in front of a renowned haunted hotel. The sky was gray and foreboding behind the classic red roof of the hotel, the window panes were pitch black against the white paint. Rinoa thought back to that photoshoot and cringed when she thought about the horror stories she was told during her stay there. She actually didn't even stay in the hotel itself, but rather a cheap ass motel room down the road that she had shared with another photographer.
She placed her phone onto her nightstand and sat up onto her knees so she could adjust the shirt she wore—Squall's shirt. Absently she redid the messy bun that sat atop her head and maneuvered herself so she was back under her bed sheets. She twisted her lips as she thought about her brief conversation with Squall. She hoped that they would be able to talk again but knew that his schedule would be very jam-packed. Plus, her schedule seemed to be increasing as well. Before she left the studio (sweaty and grimy thanks to Watts's insistence that she also help in moving around all the damned furniture) Zone received a phone call from a family friend who wanted to hire him for a quick engagement shoot on the beach.
With that thought in mind, Rinoa reached over and set her alarm for eight o' clock. The beach shoot was set for noon and the bride to be had made a suggestion that they have their shoot to be like a casual lunch date on the boardwalk. Rinoa already had a plan in motion. Basically, she and Zone would follow around the couple and take candid shots of them while they carried on as if it were a normal day out.
After turning off the bedside lamp, Rinoa snuggled against her pillow, the shirt's sleeve lifting up towards her nose. She could still smell him in the fabric, could still feel how his muscles contracted beneath the shirt while she ran her fingernails over his chest. A smile spread across her mouth and a sharp giggle escaped from her.
"You like like him," she said, mimicking Zone's teasing voice. She groaned and flipped onto her back, her arm covering her eyes. "Ugh. Yes. Yes I do," she admitted to herself. "So. Fucking. Much."
