( I'M IN TROUBLE , I'M AN ADDICT ; SPENCE ? )

[nicholas jay callaghan]

THE WORDS WERE WRITTEN
PLAINLY ON THE BACK OF HER HISTORY NOTEBOOK, BEGGING

IT WAS ODD THAT THE BUS WAS QUIET FOR ONCE. it almost made nick uncomfortable. there were usually two modes on the bus; travel mode and before-the-show mode. this was somewhere in between, because they were neither traveling nor getting ready for a show. it was almost four hours to the first show, so nick decided to take this time to be alone in the bus. not like he usually had a choice. this was a first that it was almost completely empty. carson and her brother were out setting something up for another band they had befriended. and he wasn't too sure of where spencer was at the moment. he missed his family, but it was quiet on the bus and he was going to take advantage of that. it was about mid-day, and the show here in boston didn't start until tonight, surprisingly. usually the shows started at around two in the afternoon, but this had been a long trek from their last destination, so they really just hung around and relaxed for one measly day in their lives on tour. it was all such an adventure, sometimes it really helped to relax even for just a few hours. and that's what nick figured he had. he wasn't sure where spence was, and he could go out to help the twins with their tent set up... or he could stay in for once and do something quiet.
BY ELEVEN THIRTY, NICK WAS AWAKE AND MAKING toast for himself. he yawned, running a hand through his long red hair, patting it down on his head so he didn't look all that psycho to everyone around him. but there was no one around him at the moment... so he had nothing to worry about. he had his black, thick-rimmed glasses on, only because he couldn't see a damn thing without them or his contacts. he looked a bit greasy this morning, but he tried his best. after buttering the toast, he plunked himself down on one of the couches and flipped on the small television that was tucked up above the driver's seat and the bunk on top of that. they didn't have satalite or anything like that, so all he had were the local channels. lucky for him, he found one of the kid's channels, and spongebob was on. he crossed his legs and sat happily on that couch of theirs, that actually folded out into one of their beds, he just couldn't remember exactly whos. it was really anyone who just zonked out, didn't really matter whos. and he didn't care. he had never slept on it; he had always crawled into his bunk in the back, lucky for him.
AFTER THE EPISODE WAS OVER, NICK FOUND THAT he was getting bored quickly. he knew he had to do something while it was still quiet. even though he really wouldn't mind if someone came in right then. he'd have someone to talk to. he could tell them about his dream, even though it was a bit strange. he shook his head, sitting up and trying to shake the thought of his father haunting his dreams. he sat up and hopped on his toes, shaking the bus a little when he moved. he wasn't exactly shocked that he was in his dreams again, but it was still a bit disturbing when he knew he couldn't shake the thought of his dad. then dom always came into the dream, doing something to his father that made nick's tummy hurt. he went back to his bunk, digging under his bed to try and find his bag. at the last stop, he had gone to a bookstore before the band had left, and picked up some books he knew would entertain him at times like these. his dad never left his mind, but he shook it when he picked up a thick book that had a hard cover, a fabric covering the age-old book. the bookstore amused him quite a bit, because back in florida they had pretty much barns n noble and that was it. when he found an old place that pretty much sold books like antiques, he spent his whole hour there. he took books made back from the day of the civil war, and he found it very interesting.
CRACKING THE BOOK OPEN TO THE FRESH FIRST page, he realized how old the thing was. he had never really experienced a book that wasn't new and clean, so when he didn't smell that "new book smell", he was caught a little off guard. it smelled... old. smelled dirty and over used. he didn't know how to explain how it smelled like... dirt. but clean dirt, almost just earthy. he liked this new smell. sighing, he hummed a familiar tune while he started to read. he reached for the remote and flipped the television off, so the silence was beautiful behind this book he was reading. he loved how he could get lost, get distracted by these stories. he hadn't read a book in a long while, and it felt very nice to be able to read. the story opened up in a large field, with a young girl under a tree, holding her dress-laced knees to her chest. it was winter time and she was very cold, but she was waiting for someone to come home from war. it was almost sad, but he kept reading. eventually she fell asleep, but the poor soldier never came to meet her. by the time it was dark she woke up with a start, but he never came. she went home. by that time nick was getting sad; he rested his head on the palm of his hand, sighing and closing the book with the page saved by his thumb.

WC • one one three oh
NOTE • tagged : spencer james C:
WEAR • on the bus .
CREDS • template and lyrics to moi , icons to safa @ caution !

[spencer anthony james]

Spencer was an easy enough person to get along with. Still, he had his oddities. Like the fact that he woke up at just after 4 a.m. basically every morning, or that he went walking in the city, even though he ended up getting lost every time. Of course, he never even considered asking for directions. He tended to always somehow manage to find his way back home again. It was just the way he was. He was a complete sweet heart, without a mean bone in his body, but, for all that, he wasn't always the easiest person to get along with. Especially on days like today, when he went out alone and ended up somewhere deep inside himself, lost in a different time and place entirely. Days when drugs and other men and women were through his house on a regular basis. Needless to say these were not exactly the best days of Spencer's life, and it wasn't something he let himself dwell on often. Every once in a while, though, you had to think about these things. Well, Spencer did, anyway. He had to bleed out the wound, in a manner of speaking. He had to clean it out, and the only way to do that was to go back in time and force himself to remember everything, including the fact that he had forgiven his parents long ago, despite not having been in contact with them since he turned eighteen and graduated.

He had been out walking around the big city of Boston since 4:30 that morning. He had gone by his favorite little coffee shop on the corner and then continued on through the city. It was now, what, nearly noon? He wondered how far he had walked. If the ache in his legs was anything to judge by, it must have been at least a couple of miles. He had been going forever. He tended to lose track of time when he was off in his own little world. Obviously. Or he wouldn't have waited until almost noon to head back to the bus. Not that he'd had much choice, as he had been quite lost, actually. He'd managed to totally turn himself around in the middle of the city and had ended up walking in the complete opposite direction from the grounds, and, of course, had had to turn around and walk all the way to the other side of the city, back to the tour bus.

Needless to say, it was a quiet, tired Spencer who made his way back to the bus, sliding up the steps just before noon. He glanced about, his eyes falling on the empty chairs around the table, the empty recliner, the empty bunks, and finally following on the couch....Which was occupied. At first Spencer just barely cast his band mate a glance. He wasn't usually one for talking. He made his way over to the sink in the little kitchenette and poured himself a glass of water, turning to lean against the counter. Blue eyes wandered to Nick again, sitting with his head in his palm like that, the book he had apparently been reading seemingly forgotten. "Hey man, you okay?" Spencer asked mildly, straightening and wandering over to plop down on the recliner, shifting slightly to face Nick better.

Spencer, if you asked him, would probably be inclined to say that he got along best with Nick. He wasn't sure why, exactly. He had just clicked with Nick. He hadn't the slightest clue if Nick felt the same, but it didn't really matter. All of them, the entire band, they were all in it together, through everything, thick and thin. He never had a doubt in his mind that Carson and Will would both be there for him, and he was sure that they knew that he would do the same for them. It was part of being in a band. It was a security net, like a family. Truly all of them were almost like brothers, and a sister, instead of just friends. To Spencer's way of thinking. Maybe that wasn't what the rest of the band thought .Did that really matter.

Blue eyes watched Nick with a mild concern in them. He didn't say anything else. Spencer wasn't one to fish for information. He asked once, and if you didn't reply, or didn't want to talk about it, he didn't ask again. He didn't pressure for information. There were people who were annoyed by it, the attention seekers who said that everything was fine, even when it wasn't, and wanted people to dig around for the information. Spencer had never been one to dig around. If you didn't offer any information, then he wasn't going to pressure you for it, and he hated when people got mad at you for not trying to force it out of them. It drove him crazy, really. Well, not crazy, but it was definitely one of his pet peeves.

He heaved a slight sigh, shifting in the chair slightly, pulling a groan out of the recliner. The thing had clearly seen better days. It had several stains on it, probably beer (at least, everyone hoped it was just beer) and it creaked and groaned and the leg rest didn't really work anymore. Still, it was comfortable. He found his finger running over the rim of his glass, an old habit of his. The glass tried to whistle slightly under his touch, but, considering it wasn't crystal, didn't quite manage it. Spencer sighed. He wished they had crystal glasses, just so he could get them to whistle like that, like Sandra Bullock did in Miss Congeniality. It was another of his oddities, really. He liked whistling glasses, if that was what one called. Blue eyes turned from his cup back to Nick, waiting patiently for his answer. Spence knew Nick would tell him when he was ready, or if he wasn't. It didn't really matter either way, now did it?

Words: one zero zero two
Tag: Nick!
Notes: Ha. Muse burst.

[nicholas jay callaghan]

THE WORDS WERE WRITTEN
PLAINLY ON THE BACK OF HER HISTORY NOTEBOOK, BEGGING

NICK HADN'T REALLY THOUGHT a lot lately. he liked being able to. with this tour, it was really just wake up, realize you're in a different state, put a new shirt on and head out to try and sell your cd to the waiting people in line. usually that meant taking pictures with those fans who think you're the coolest thing in the world, and he liked that. usually people didn't know nick by name. of coarse they knew the twins; they had to. they were the faces of the band, with nick and spencer standing being them somewhere. of coarse they knew this was how it was and never said a word to the twins because that was just the way it was. no big deal. it's not like they could do anything about it. of coarse there were those awesome fans who knew not just the lead singer and the other cute one in the band. nick liked those people. but the bnad was very entertaining on stage and they got a lot of extra brownie points for that. people liked to watch them; they were engaging on stage and talked a lot to the audience and stuff. nick liked to talk, to get people moving. and people listened, it was really entertaining. nick and the band would try different things during a song, getting people to jump up and crowd surf, but a lot of the time they had little pauses where they would cue the audience for something. but. nick loved the lifestyle; he lived for it. he didn't like it any other way. but having a spare moment was precious, and nick obviously took advantage of that as often as he could.
WITH THE BOOK IN HIS hands, he set it on his lap and tipped his head back, resting it on the back of the couch. it was a small couch, not made with comfortable fabric like the old recliner in the opposite corner. that was pretty much spencer's spot, and the band knew it. he didn't mind the least though, he liked the scratchy-fabricated couch that was available. he wondered again where that spencer was, because he hadn't heard from him since last night. he was glad that they crashed in the bus though, because then he could usually keep track of the kids in the band, but not that night. it was surprising that they hadn't hung out all night, since they hadn't had a show that night, which was a rarity on tour. a night without a show was like a PB&J without the jelly. very out of place, for one. so while nick was daydreaming it was no surprise that he would come in. he smiled as spencer took his usual seat in his recliner, sitting back and asking what was up. it was then that nick realized that he was probably looking like a dead person then, with his expression. nick shook his head, running a rand through his hair before ajusting his glasses, his eyes never leaving the book's cover below him. oh, nothing. just lost in this old thing. he said smiling and looking up at him bravely. of all the people he knew on tour, he knew that spencer was the best person to talk to. so if there was something wrong, he should just get it out then before he got embarrassed. spencer was a good listener; he never interrupted, he never tried to suggest anything unless he asked. nick was a good talker; but he was spencer's go-to-guy too. it was awesome since they are in the same band, and that they ended up being such good friends anyway.
NICK WAS AT A LOSS OF words that morning, and it sucked. his eyes clouded over as his mind wandered, the silence between them seeming so natural and not awkward at all. he listened to the creaking of spencer's recliner and sighed. dominique, he said, looking up at spence. he had talked about his new father before, but he refused to call him father. actually, nick felt annoying now because this topic had come up so often. nah, he's just... my mom hasn't called in like three days... usually she calls like every night, y'know? wow i sound lame. he shook his head, ruffling up his red hair and blushing a bit because, yes, he was sounding like a mamma's boy to his bandmate. blahh. hey, so where were you all night? he asked, smiling as he set the book next to him, loosing his page and crossing his legs. he looked happy enough, trying to distract himself with this. it was dumb to get distracted by dom, but it wasn't if it was about a girl. he needed to get a girl, man. he was going insane in this band with no girl to spill his guts to. for now, spencer would do. he was always such a good friend; sometimes he didn't think he was a good enough friend for spencer sometimes.


WC • one oh oh six
NOTE • sorry this took so long D:
WEAR • on the bus .
CREDS • template and lyrics to moi , icons to safa @ caution !