Tour Bus

Groaning in frustration, Summer pulls a hand through her hair as she tries to decide what's more important to shove in her duffel bag; an extra pair of socks or her calculator. She throws the socks back in her drawer. It's summertime, she won't need extra socks, right?

When she was all packed and ready made her way downstairs, calling out to her parents. "I'm going to Jen's house. I'll see you guys later." She smirks and heads out the door though she's stopped by her mom calling out to her. "Don't you wan to wait to see Julia off." Summer bites her lip and shakes her head. "No! She'll be back eventually. I love you guys and I see you."

With that she was out the door and creeping on to the tour bus that was parked in front of the house. They had all agree it was better to all meet at the Driscoll house instead of the bus driving around and picking every one up. She looks at everything in awe as she skulks around inside. This was already the coolest thing ever and she couldn't wait till they got moving.

After she gave herself a tour, she slips into the small bathroom and made herself comfortable in the small shower stall. Summer just really hoped no one had to pee in the first hour or so of driving, otherwise this would get really awkward. Summer pulled out a book and started reading. It wasn't long until she was falling asleep, face smashed into her pillow and book in her lap.

Julia's grin dropped a little at her sisters words, "No! She'll be back eventually. I love you guys and I see you."
"That's odd," Her mother says, bustling around the kitchen, while Julia nods slowly.
'Did I do something?' she thinks to herself, biting her lip but then furiously shakes her head, 'I'm sure she was just upset about me leaving, I should just focus on the tour.' and with this thought Julia squeals, jumping off her stool at the breakfast bar - where she was engrossed in eating her extremely nutella'd toast - and beginning to dance around the kitchen while singing a random made-up song that went a little like "Aw yeah! Tour time, tour time! We gonna rock it!"

Running up the stairs she grabs her bag and brings it down to rest by their maple door, for want of something to satisfy her hyperactivity.
She then decides to pinch her pale arm, not quite believing that what was happening was real, but alas she didn't wake up and so her grin just grew wider.

Dashing into her bedroom, she bounds onto her red bed staring at the walls plastered with pictures of her band, family and favourite bands.
"I can't wait," She whispers to no-one, rubbing her hand over her face, "I can't believe this happened to me."
Then it hits her, "I do not look respectable!" She notes, looking down to her black pajama bottoms and red vest top.
Picking a outfit that was comfortable but not sloppy. (http://d1285xx0wu5t9z.cloudfront.net/images/outfits/14680/winter-outfit_web.jpg)

Julia then walks downstairs, more relaxed, and settles on the sofa waiting for her band-members.

She couldn't really believe that the day had come; that her own son was about to go on tour, that her son was going to be away and on his own, that her son...was standing in his room, staring down a sparsely packed duffel bag, his hands on his hips.

"Francis."

He turned, his expression quizzical.

"What are you doing? Have you finished packing yet?"

The young man paused, eyes distant. Mrs. Malory waited a moment, not wanting to interrupt his thought. Suddenly, he mumbled a "Toothbrush..." before proceeding toward the bathroom to grab it, along with some deodorant, which he also apparently forgot. She smiled, laughing under her breath as she set down the basket of laundry.

"Don't forget some underwear."

After another ten minutes of disorganized packing (underwear included), Francis rejoined his mother downstairs. His sister, Penelope, was texting as always, but as soon as his foot crossed into kitchen territory, she sprung on him.

"Are you excited? I wish I could come with...maybe I can join as a backup singer or something when you guys get back. Or maybe violin? There are rock bands that have violins you know, adds a classy feel." She spoke all at once, following her older brother to the dining table. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish before replying.

"Yes. No. No. True but still no."
"I could sneak on the bus you know, force you guys to take me with you."
"Ah I don't think so young lady." Their mother interrupted, giving way to half-smiles on her children's lips. Pocketing a buttered bagel, Francis proceeded to hug his family and give a kiss on his mother's cheek before leaving. Expectedly, he rang the doorbell a second later to grab the umbrella from his sister's waiting hand.

"What's he going to do without us." Penelope asked, locking the door behind him.

Not wishing to crowd up the Driscoll driveway, Francis opted for the public transit. On the bus, he pulled out a small camcorder and did a bit of vlogging. Though he spoke quietly, other passengers eventually looked his way. The young man was talking to himself after all, it was only natural. Within minutes, he arrived at their doorstep. Just outside the household was the large tour bus, and it was only then that the reality of the situation began to soak in. What began as a hobby and a fun way to pass the time became this, whatever this was suppose to be. The thought was crazy in itself, and even now he couldn't really wrap his head around it. Ignoring the sense of excitement and apprehension, he quickly took a shot of the tour bus before ringing the doorbell, his duffel and keyboard bag hanging off each shoulder.

‘We just write and play and write and play and write and...’

A black Mercedes drove down a suburban street at the speed limit. The car seemed to be heading to a particular destination. If someone were to peek inside, they would see two eager adults chatting away, and a young girl relaxing in the back. That young girl just so happens to be the guitarist for the newly signed indie band Golden Morality. Kelsey is her name, but close friends and family gave her the nickname Kelso. She did not know where that name originated from, but what great rock legend didn't have a strange nickname?

‘He pointed to his heart, and mind, and ears. And he said here, here, and here…’

The group Meg and Dia soothing lyrics entered her ears, reminding Kelsey of what she was about to accomplish. Closing her gray eyes, the young girl started to get lost in her thoughts. It felt like yesterday when she discovered that they had been signed. There was a warm sensation that filled her body, which caused a certain numbing effect. That feeling would last for days, and she did not want it to go away.

“Kelso….Kels…Kelsey” a bass filled voice called out to the girl. Kelsey jerked her head towards the voice direction. Her father’s blue eyes stared at her through the rear view mirror.

“Are you going to be alright honey? I mean, you will be on tour for a long time. You know you can always call us and we’ll bring you home.” Those words were very reassuring. Her parents were open to the idea of letting her go on tour, but nonetheless, they were afraid to send their little girl away.

“No Dad…Mom…I’ll be fine. You do not have to worry at all. Julia will be there, and so will all the guys. We got this.” This was the first time Kelsey talked that entire morning. She was too nervous and excited to utter a word. This tour would not only show the world Golden Moralities music, but it was a test for herself. Kelsey glanced over at her guitar, Alexander, the instrument that will make her dreams come true.

“We’re here!” Ms. Davies called out. The car came to a stop, just before the giant tour bus. Kelsey stared at the massive
automobile, before jumping out of the car. This was her chance and she was going to take it. She reached in the back and grabbed Alexander, before she grabbed the rest of her junk. She found it very difficult to limit herself to specific items, but it had to be done. Still, if someone were to look at her large black suitcase, they would have thought she was moving. ’It’s better to be overly prepared, than not to have certain items at all’ Kelso thought with a bright smile. Before she parted ways with her family, Kelsey kissed them each on the cheek. She reassured them that she would be okay, and that she had her cellphone, just in chance something helped.

“I love you” were the last words she spoke to her family, before they drove off. Kelso turned on her heel to find someone standing at the Driscoll’s door. Almost instantly, she recognized that keyboard bag in the person’s hand.

“Hey Francis” Kelsey called out the older man. She walked up towards him with suitcase and guitar in hand. With a optimistic smile on her face Kelso glanced at the tour bus once again before asking

“Are you ready for this?”

Nicholas grabs his pre-packed 'Nike' duffle-bag and heads down to the kitchen where he spotted his mother frowning into her newspaper.
"What's up mum?" He asks, taking a seat on the chair identical to his mothers.
She bats his question away, "nothing, nothing dear - Don't you need to leave?" She asks, looking intently at the clock, "You better not be late for another thing. Especially this important!"
Nick laughs, poking his mum's wrist "Yeah, yeah I was just trying to say goodbye to my only mother." He says, emphasising the 'only' part as to make his mother feel mock guilt.

His smile brightens as his mother giggles, liking it when she's happy.
"Well, like you said, I best be off." He finally said, standing up and kissing his mum on the cheek.
Just as he was about to leave he hears his mother's soft voice call to him through the rooms "Goodbye love."

Racing down the roads that connect the Gellar's to the Dricoll's Nicholas clings onto his bass, making sure his knees don't hit into the delicate instrument as he sprinted.
Arriving at their street, he takes a couple deep breaths before carrying on, suppressing his excitement - for the moment - and keeping his head up, taking swift strides as he spots the maple door he knows all too well.

Spotting two figures standing at the door Nick grins, running over as soon as he recognises them.
"Francis," He gasps, still out of breath from his intense running, "Kels, what's up?"
He looks at the door and waits for it to open, while still talking to his friends.

"Kinda have to be." He replied, before turning toward the familiar voice. Glancing down at the suitcase, Francis raised an eyebrow, remarking sarcastically. "You sure you don't need another suitcase?" Before waiting for a reply, he started up his camcorder again before pointing it toward Kelsey. The band was used this, as they often guest starred in his many videos. Sometimes they were annoyed by the camera waving, but they knew it was all in good fun. Besides, it was hard to stay angry at Francis, especially while feeling the rush of excitement they all shared.

"So Kelso, big day's here. How are you feeling?"

As she replied, Francis noticed an approaching figure in the corner of the camcorder screen, a quickly approaching figure actually. A corner of his lip rose involuntarily, amused as he was by Nick's obvious excitement. When the bassist arrived and Kelsey had finished, he directed his lens toward him.

"Don't worry, we won't leave without you. Well I won't at least, don't know about this one." His eyes briefly glanced toward Kelsey, lips curved to a half-smile. "So how fast is your heart pounding now that you're here?"

Julia's ears perked up as she heard the doorbell ring, after squealing once more she realises she needs to relax, otherwise she could freak everyone out and so balls her fists, trying to calm down.
Walking slowly to the door she glances out the peephole and a small smile plays its way onto her lips.
"Sorry, no-ones home." She half shouts, half sings to the people the opposite side of the door.

Laughing at her own joke she flings open the door, grinning her friends names one by one.
"Kelsey!" She yells, her happiness getting the best of her as she flings over arms around her bestfriend.
Realising her friend she latches onto another, male this time.
"Francis! Blogging as ever huh?" She giggles, finally releasing her friend and sticking her tongue out to the camera.
Glancing to her next friend (victim) she assumes the position, ready to perform their handshake.

Julia grabs onto his left wrist with her right hand, while Nick grabs onto her left wrist with his right hand.
She then shakes their connected wrists and bursts into laughter.
"Okay, possibly the worst handshake ever?" She says into his neck, as she envelopes him in a huge hug.

Realising her final friend she looks at the all as a group, "I am," She takes a deep breath "So damn excited."
Grinning Julia then adds, "I bet you couldn't guess that."

Kelsey smirked at the keyboardist. While others would have thought she was high-maintenance for bringing such a large suitcase, her group of friends would not. Sometimes they do pick at her, but it’s all in good fun.

“Please. I would probably try to bring three; one for clothes, another for books, and entertainment, and then another one for snacks.” While she was replying, Kelso stood face to face with a small gadget. Francis was known for his camcorder and his ‘vlog’ episodes. How else would they have found this amazing keyboardist? Kelsey herself has been in a few of them. They are too hilarious not to watch. With a smile, Kelso looked directly into the camcorder.

“Super excited…kind of nervous, but I am ready to hit the road” she replied eagerly. What she said was beyond an understatement. Kelsey could not put how excited she was into words. One the outside she may seem calm and cool, but on the inside she was exploding! An excited chuckled escaped her lips, before she noticed another person making their way towards the pair. It was none other than, Nicholas the bands teddy bear. If they ever needed a quick laugh, Nick was the guy.

"Don't worry, we won't leave without you. Well I won't at least, don't know about this one” she heard Francis say. Kelsey looked up at Francis just as he glanced at her and smirked. Oh, he knows her too well.

“I wouldn’t have left you, but you would have to chase after the bus for a while.” Kelsey grinned, knowing she wouldn't do such a thing. They had all become a family after all. Just as she finished speaking, Kelsey was greeting by a familiar voice.

"Sorry, no-ones home.”It only took Kelso a split second to know who it belonged to. That girl would eventually open the door, and fling her arms around the young girl.

“Juls! How are you lovely?” she said with a grin. Kelsey let the girl go, so that she could attack the other two members. She watched Julia and Nick greet one another in an ‘interesting’ way, but that did not matter. Those two were just openly showing their excitement. Kelso thought about the question Francis asked earlier. She did not have time to reply, or she did not even know if it was for her. Still, she felt the need to answer it.

“It’s going way too fast. Is this what a heart attack feels like?” Kelso questioned Francis. The group was almost here, but everyone could feel the energy surging from each individual.

“We are all excited. We are going to rock this” Kelso nearly screamed. The girl pointed at the tour bus.

"This is our dream. And once Mitch gets here, we will be gone. This is too crazy."

"You know what the best part about being poor is?" Mitch asked through labored breaths, aiming his question at no one.

"No, Mitch, what?" He said back to himself.

"All the exercise."

Mitch had been dragging his drum set for over an hour through the streets of the city and now through the quaint lanes of suburbia that was Jules' neighborhood. He had forgotten just how far she lives away from him. He probably should ha e taken up Trucker, his "foster" dad(Even though he hasn't actually adopted him) on his offer of a ride.

"But then I would miss out on all the fun of lugging a patch drum set over 25 miles." He huffed out.

Mitch had dressed himself in black jeans, his black work boots, and a black wife beater. He also had a brown leather jacket that was currently slung over the drum set.

The drum set itself was already perfectly set up on a big wooden platform. It had been haphazardly painted black and had little wheels on each point of the platform. It looked like he had built it himself......which he had.

He viewed through his aviators that he had finally reached his destination. It seemed "The Gang" were all guffawing at one another and all seemed rather excited.

It looked they hadn't noticed him yet. He game e a sly smile and dropped the wagon like handle he had been using to pull the platform. He made his way to the back of it and began pushing it with all of his force. He then jumped on top of it and began to play one of his drum solos as he slid along the sidewalk.

He played for maybe 10 seconds before the platform crashed into the group of trashcans sitting in front of her house. The drum set, his jacket and his army style duffelbag did not flinch.

He however went flying off the platform, barreled through the trashcans, then rolled along the ground. After rollingaybe 15 feet. He managed to get his feet under himself, pop up, and scream at the top of his lungs "ROCK AND ROLL!!!"

He had a couple scrapes along his arms and a bruise starting to form on his right bicep, but his smile was big and bright.

When Summer heard the crash, she got up and ran over to the small window and peeks out of it. She smiles when she sees Mitchell pop up and scream something. She giggles and watches him. She sees her parents come out of the house at the noise.

"What was that noise?" Mrs. Driscoll asks concerned. When she sees Mitchell she shakes her her. "I should have known." She says with a fond smile. "Well, let me get my camera. I want a picture before all of you leave." With that she disappears into the house for a moment and comes back with her camera. "All right, everyone all together." When they all group up, she snaps the picture and grins. "You guys are going to be amazing. Good luck to you all."

Summer grins and goes back into the shower stall and waits for everyone to come onto the bus.

A cheerful voice soon interjected and the visitors were greeted by Julia. Waiting his turn, Francis moved the camera aside to allow for a hug before catching the playful expression on her face. Camera steady, he recorded the older Driscoll's reaction, finding her energy contagious. "Please, who are you talking to." He replied, knowing full well that the others understood how empathetic he was.

Suddenly, Kelsey answered the question Francis had intended for Nick, not that it really mattered. He merely wanted to preserve this memory with his band mates and share it with others who could live vicariously through them. "This is our dream." Kelsey remarked, barely able to contain her excitement. Francis could not help but feel a bit left out, for this was not exactly his dream. Sure he loved playing the keyboard, composing music, but the young man had too many interests and was much too indecisive. Even if this was a dream of his, he may not know until they step on stage at their first stop of the tour, or he just might not know until years later. Honestly, it was a bit disheartening.

Distracted, Francis didn't notice Mitch until the crash jump started his attention. Turning, he chuckled under his breath as the drummer screamed at the top of his lungs. However, once Mrs. Driscoll joined them, he was quick to reply to her question. "Who else."

When she returned, Francis remained where he was and allowed the other members of the band to surround him as they got into position. Smiling brightly, he draped his arms around the two members beside him for the photo. Once they dispersed, Francis headed toward the tour bus, lugging his keyboard and slate grey duffel bag toward the door. When allowed entrance, he carefully maneuvered up the steps to avoid bumping his instrument. Taking in their settings, Francis made a b-line toward the beds, quickly testing each with a firm push of a hand before claiming one of the lower cots by dropping his things on the covers. Satisfied, the young man moved toward the main area and sat down on the couch, staying out of the way of the others. While he waited for the others to become available, Francis took a few panning shots of the bus before pulling out his phone with his right hand and draping the left along the top of the couch, his body relaxed.

The crashing sound seemed to distract Kelsey from her excitement, yet she did not seem to least bit surprised when she discovered who created the mess. Her gray orbs glanced over to find Mitchell standing on Julia’s front lawn. He had run into her trashcans, but judging by his shouts…he was fine. Kelsey crossed her arms are smiled at Mitch. No one would have guessed that they were extremely close. They are complete opposites, but opposites do attract. This guy completes their crazy bunch of misfits and Kelsey wouldn’t have it any other way. As she stared at Mitch, Kelsey glanced back to see Mrs. Driscoll standing at the door way.

"Well, let me get my camera. I want a picture before all of you leave." Her second mother quickly disappeared into the house, and then reemerged with a camera in hand. "All right, everyone all together" Mrs. Driscoll demanded. Kelsey swiftly moved into position. She stood closer to the end, allowing her guitar to poke through. When everyone was together she smiled brightly, anticipating their final group picture before they hit the road.

'Click, Click, Click'

The bright smile on the young girls face faded, and she reached to grab her things. Everyone was here, and now it was time to go. Kelso readjusted her guitar on her back, and used her left hand to pull her suitcase. When she reached the tour bus, she stepped up and pecked inside. The set up was...not she was used to, however she did not have a choice. They were just signed after all. The inside of the automobile had a simple and at a grungy feel to it. Leaving her suitcase outside, Kelso climbed up into the bus and took her surroundings. While she was doing so, she quietly entered the bunking area. Not wanting to sleep under anyone, Kelsey picked an upper bunk. Maybe she could sleep across from Julia and they could have late night girl talk. The thought brought a smile to Kelsey’s face. Moving farther back, Kelsey placed her guitar down neatly, before walking back to the front. She stared at her large suitcase, and cursed herself for bringing it. Hopefully, they would have enough room to store it…somewhere.

With that in mind, Kelso lifted her suitcase on board. If anything, she could take out everything that she needed, and put the case under the bus…or something. Kelso quickly dragged the suitcase to the bunks, and lifted it on hers. She grunted softly, but was glad that she achieved her goal.

“Time to help the others” she muttered to herself. From the look of things, Mitch would need the most help, and a pair of extra hands would not hurt. Kelso exited the bus a third time, and called out to the group.

“Do you guys need help with anything?” While she stood outside, Kelsey realized that she had not acknowledged their tour bus driver at all. 'Way to make a good impression Kelsey' she thought with a disheartened groan.

He gripped the neck of his his guitar in two hands, raised it high above his head. Behind him, Keith Moon climbed to stand precariously on his drum stool. He swung the heavy body of the guitar down onto the stage as Keith launched himself bodily into the drum kit with an explosion of cymbals -

Whitley jerked awake in the driver's seat of the tour bus, which over the long years had moulded itself to the contours of his body. It was as comfortable now as a baby's crib. The crash of a falling drumkit had been real, not just in his dream. Day-to-day reality ebbed back. He was parked in a well-to-do suburb - taking up more room than the neighbours would like, he shrugged - waiting for this band to load up. Coupla boys, coupla girls, thin as whips and pretty as daisies. He'd heard one of their tapes too - wouldn't take them on the road without listening to their sound - and they were pretty good. Keyboards, though. He'd never been a big fan of keyboards. Stevie Wonder though.

One of the boys was at the door now. Dark hair. Pixie features. Looked tiny under the weight of a loaded old army duffel. Looked about 12 to Whitley but then so did everyone in pop videos these days. Whitley pulled the lever to open the door and the boy bounded on, clutching a keyboard to his chest. He had one of those tiny video cameras that looked like toys.

"Hey, Stevie Wonder," grunted Whitley. The boy nodded and went back to the living area of the tour bus. Shy type, Whitley guessed. That's okay too.

Whitley fumbled in the door pocket for half a joint he'd put out earlier. Glancing out the window at the drive of the house, he saw there were a couple of parental types with the remaining band members as they collected the last of their bits and pieces. Maybe not, he thought. Clean-cut area. Wait til we're on the road anyway. He thought about honking the horn to help everyone get a move on but thought better of it. What's the rush? They're just tying down a few last-minute nerves. So he waved vaguely at the group yet to board, and a girl with a guitar and an enormous suitcase started towards the bus. Whitley settled back in his chair, and closed his eyes. "Talkin' 'bout my... generation..." he sang under his breath.

Julia grinned once more, posing with her friends for the group photo.
"How about this for our first album cover?" She jokes, taking the old polaroid camera from her mum and shaking the picture.
Glancing down at all of their happy faces, frozen in time.

She looks to her parents, still full of excitement and hugging and kissing them one by one, thinking all the time 'I wish Summer were here, she would have loved to see the inside of the bus and say bye to everyone.'

Her joy then ebbs into fear as she watches everyone pack their things, is this really happening? She would often think.
Shaking her head she grabs her bags, shoving them onto the bag compartment of their bus and then turning to see whether anyone else needed help.
Julia then watches Francis get on the bus and decides to follow him, gasping she notes the 'vintage' interior of the massive coach.

Sitting next to her friend on a slightly broken, red couch, Julia looks at his camera and then back at him.
"Its great you brought that, not only for your subscribers but it's memories I know we'll want to remember." Julia nods as she glances around their new home.
"Oh! Where are we going to sleep?" She whispers to herself, getting up and looking in all the pint-sized rooms.
The first she looks in is the grimy bathroom, giggling a little as she mumbles to herself "Oh no! I hope the boys learn to put the toilet seat down."

The next room is what she decided to claim as the girl's, it wasn't the most amazing room, but she liked the 'rustic' feel it held.
A large, extremely old guitar shaped rug adorned the dirty floor, forming the only nice thing to look at in the whole room, with a rusting metal bunkbed on one side, a very small desk (very small) with a matching chair, that looked like it would break apart if you sat on it.
A little record player was situated on the desk, a pile of old vinyl resting next to it and Julia walks over picking one up and studying it.
She nods, playing the record and hoping someone realises what it is.

"This is going to be great." She says, yet again to herself, tapping her foot intime with the music.

_________________________~*~_________________________

Watching Mitch's performance, Nick lets out a soft chuckle.
"Hey Mitch," He smiles, patting his friend on the back "ever the entrance."
He then looks at the drumset, "You want some help getting that on, it's obviously not just a one man job."

Running inside the coach Nick sets his precious bass down on the sofa, next to Francis "Can you look after that?" He asks before running out of the vehicle once more.
But not before greeting their driver, "Hello, I'm Nick," He greets before adding, "Sorry, got to go." And darting off.

Once outside again, Nicholas sees Kelsey asking Mitchell if he wants any help with the drumset.
"Oh Kelsey, you wouldn't want you to brake a nail," He teases, and the notices her massive suitcase, "Actually, if you managed to get that massive thing on the coach - Maybe we do need your help!"

Footsteps and youthful, excited chatter intruded on Whitley's consciousness again.

"Hello, I'm Nick. Sorry, got to go."

"Huh? Whu..." Whitley sat up, his head spinning as one of the boys rushed passed his seat and off the bus. His foggy eyes followed this Nick to where another of the band stood beside a pile that could only mean one thing: drumkit. Whitley groaned as he clambered out of his seat, pulling on the passanger seat for leverage. That was the only problem with the deep comfort of the driver's seat - impossible to get out of. Pain streaked across his lower back. In the back of the van, someone had put Steppenwolf's first album on the mini record player.

"Howdy fellas," he said, hitching up his old jeans as he walked over to the two young men. "Let it hang out baby, do the Baltimore jig," he mumbled to himself. Then: "Name's Whitley, Whitley Jones. Driver for this little adventure you got going here. Now, you're gonna need a hand with that kit? Drumkit ain't gonna fit inside Mona, I'm afraid. Mona's my tour bus. My lady."

The young men introduced themselves - re-introduced himself in Nick's case - and Whitley soon had them to work. "You go up top, Nick, and me and Mitch will pass up the gear. Then I'll come up and help you strap it all down. Hey, whaddya do to your arm, tough guy?"

They worked fast in their eagerness to get on the road, and Whitley could see they were firm friends - almost a band within the band. "So your the rhythm section then?" Whitley grunted as he hoisted a snare up to Nick. "Can't wait to hear you play. Where we off to first?"

"You know you love me Mrs. Driscoll." Mitchell said in a teasing manner as he walked up to his best friends in the entire world. For the picture he stood behind them and stuck his head between Julia and Francis and stuck his arms around them as well. After the click flash of the Polaroid camera, Nick addressed him. "Would you expect anything else from me, man?" He said as he began to make his way over to his drumkit. When Nick had offered to help, he looked over at him. "Yeah man, thanks. Wouldn't mind putting aside some pride to have a non-broken back." he said.

Nick ran inside to stow away his greatest treasure, while Mitch began fold down his kit for storage. As he began to get things ready, Nick came back out with Kelso as the both offered to help. He cocked his head over to Nick. "Your just jealous because Kelso can kick your ass." Mitch then looked to Kelso. He then spoke in his best Schwarzenegger accent. "Come ovah here Olympia, I need your muscly arms, yah!" Mitch then hoisted the bass drum unto his shoulders.

Right when he was about to move onto the bus. A man that could have passed for Trucker's brother came out, from presumably the driver's seat, and told them that their was no room on the bus for the kit, and it would have to go onto the roof. Oh, also that his name was Whitley. Mitch walked over with the bass drum on his shoulder and shook the man's hand. "Mitch, good to meet you man. I think you and Mona will provide me with a nice slice of home while on the road." He said to the driver as if it was an inside joke.

They then began to quickly and efficiently get the drumkit situated onto Mona.....which is literally the perfect name for a bus. Whitley then asked where they were going first. Mitch looked over at him. "I'm pretty sure our first gig is in Tampa? Anyway, everyone is an incredibly talented musician.....and then there's the drummer, me." he said with a bit of self-mocking laughter. He never really counted himself as a musician as all he does is bash plastic cylinders with wooden sticks.

After they were finished, Mitch decided to make his way onto the bus with his sling and jacket to see what it was like. Whe he stepped inside and saw the interior he froze.......it was perfect. It reminded him of home He closed his eyes and bowed his head in prayer. "Thank you, oh great Mooned Keith, for bringing unto us, literally the least trashy and overly hyped tour bus that was within your power. Our journey is a long one and it is comforting to know you are watching over us...Amen." He then walked forward a few steps, turned around and fell back ward right onto the floor in front of Jules and Francis. He then put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

He had heard Jules comment about the toilet seat. "I plan on retaining my right as a "Chauvinist Pig" and do whatever I want in the bathroom as long as it stays in the bathroom." he said rather seriously to her....then began smiling to let her know it was a joke.

He decided to just lay there and wait for them to get going or something!

'Tampa? Okay, kinda a home gig then?' But the drummer had already bound on board Mona, another bundle of excitement, albeit a broader, taller, stronger bundle. What had he said about a slice of home? Whitley shook his shaggy grey head. He wasn't sure he'd ever had a band this young on the road before.

'Nick, get in here, man, I'll give you all the tour,' Whitley called up, and mounted the steps that opened onto the driver's seat.

'Alright, umm, dudes,' he called forward to where the rest of the band had gathered in the cramped shared area Whitley called the lounge. 'Uhhh, I ain't a schoolteacher type, so how bout I make this real quick while we're waiting for the tour manager. I got an itinerary here somewhere but we'd better hang on I guess.'

Nick came up the steps behind him, the rest of the band traipsed up the centre aisle. The low ceiling brushed Mitch's head. 'Right, I'm Whitley, and this is my seat,' he said, slapping the leather upholstery. 'That's my only rule, man. No-one sits in my seat. Alright? Alright. That's my guitar,' Whitley went on, pointing to the ceiling, where a battered acoustic hung by its strap from two hooks. A veritable forest of pine air fresheners hung from a dial on the dashboard. 'And that's my sound system,' he said, pointing at the dial, a CD player and a collection of buttons. 'Turns the speakers on and off all over the bus. We'll have us some good times with that. Y'all like Foghat?'

Whitley shrugged at the perplexed faces. 'Alright. Where most of you are standing, that's the kitchen.' The young musicians looked about their cramped surroundings. Kelsey, Julia, Mitch and Francis barely fit into the room, which was essentially a corridor. On the right as Whitley and Nick looked from the cab, and inset in a wall of cupboards, there were two electric hobs, a small microwave and a tiny sink, all grouped around a 4ft by 3ft window. The countertops were clean, but worn; in a couple of places cracks had been covered with duct tape. 'Go on, poke around.'

They hesitated; perhaps they felt like they would be intruding. Never mindd, Whitley thought. They'd soon feel at home. Kelsey was first to get involved, pulling open the cupboard to the right of the inset. Inside was a fridge. 'Don't have much call for keeping stuff on the road,' said Whitley. 'Just pick up milk when we stop places. Wanna tip for on the road? You know them tiny cartons of long-life milk? Rob as many as you can from diners and truckstops. Takes twenty of them to wet your Cheerios, and they taste like hell, but they're good forever.' Whitley lent past Julia and opened a cupboard on his left. Inside was a refuse sack full to the brim of of the tiny cartons. 'Got hundreds of them in there, help yourself!'

Whitley shuffled forward, pushing everyone back into the lounge. A rickety fold-up table was currently down on the left side of the room; a similar table was folded against the wall on the right. On either side of each table, facing the direction of travel and against the direction of travel, were low benches covered in worn red velvet. A seam was burst on one, and dark yellow foam protruded. The carpet was faded orange, and though it had obviously been recently cleaned, not a square foot of it wasn't stained. There were a number of cigarette burns on the left hand side of the carpet, though not on the right. Whitley saw sharp-eyed Francis had noted this. 'Smoking on the left, non-smokers on the right, see?'

Beyond the 'lounge', through a heavy felt curtain, was the sleeping area. On both sides of the narrow corridor were two bunks, each with another felt curtain across it. Beyond these, on the right, were two more bunks and, on the left, a dressing table and large wall-mounted mirror surrounded by lightbulbs. 'See?' Whitley grinned. 'I thought of everything, man. You girls got your own damn powder room!' Whitley assumed the surprise on Julia and Kelsey's faces was due to gratitude, not shock at the spartan conditions. 'Yeah, I know it's, like, harder for girls on the road. There's... well, there's not a lot of privacy in here. There just weren't girls and boys in bands together back in the day. I drove Tammy Wynette's crew once, but Tammy had her own bus. Man, her boys were dirty dogs...'

'Anyway, down there's storage. I see most of you already stowed your gear, I'll go tie it down later, just in case. And past that is the toilet on the left and the shower. It don't run hot most of the time, but it'll get you clean.'

'So,' Whitley proclaimed, turning proudly to the band. 'Whaddya think of my lady?'

When Summer hears her sister's voice extremely close to the bathroom she hold her breath. It would suck getting caught right outside the house. She double checks that her phone is on silent and tries to make herself as small as possible. Summer was ridiculously excited and she couldn't wait for them to get out on the road.

She couldn't help but giggle when she heard Mitchell joking around outside the bathroom. She slaps a hand over her mouth and prays that no one heard her. They need to get on the road soon, because her butt is starting to fall asleep.

As the band expressed their opinions with what Whitley thought was admirable candour, he struggled forward to his driver's seat. Though not as tall as Mitch, Whitley's unkempt grey hair also brushed the roof of the tour bus in places, particularly what passed for doorways between the rooms. He pulled out a battered AAA road book. 'Tallahassee to Tampa, Tallahassee to Tampa,' he muttered, thumbing through the dogeared pages. Some of the pages were annotated with pink highlighter and green and red ink, but the page he stopped on was clear. 'See, I update the old book with roadworks and stuff,' he called back to no-one in particular. 'And what the cops are like in each town, if I've got a ticket, you know. And look,' he said, flicking to the map of states in the inside front cover, 'each state where it's legal, where it's kinda legal and where its really a no-go. I got a medical marijuana card in 18 states!'

'Tallahassee to Tampa, four hours. Hour for set-up, hour for getting lost. Gig time... What time to you go on?'

'Nine,' one of the girls shouted back from the lounge. Some-one was toying with a guitar, someone else was tapping a staccato beat on a table and window. A grin further creased Whitley's wrinkled features. They were settling in.

'Nine, right.' Whitley turned the key in the ignition. The huge engine coughed once, then shuddered as it roared into life. 'Don't worry,' he yelled back over the din, which had shocked the guitar player into silence. 'She'll pipe down when we hit the open road. Listen, we gotta get going really if we want to start the tour on time, good vibes, you know?'

He looked out the window at the black, oily cloud the backfiring exhaust had expelled into the worried faces of the parents still on the driveway, and waved and shrugged apologetically. A few worried faces had been drawn to windows further up the street by all the noise. 'Hold tight, here we go!' he hollered and depressed the pedal. The old bus lurched forward and Whitley indulged himself with a long honk on the horn. 'Yee-hawww!' The response from the lounge was three parts excitement, two parts nerves.

Ten minutes into the drive, as the bus made its way through light traffic on the US-90 through Tallahassee's outskirts, Whitley once again heard chatter from the band members in the lounge. 'Don't worry, it'll take you a while to find your bus legs. You know, man, bus legs. Like sea legs? Hey, Stevie Wonder - I mean, hey, Francis, come up here, I got something for you.'

At a red light, Francis stumbled up. Whitley reached under his seat and pulled out a battered white cardboard box. 'Those good ol' Followill brothers gave me this couple of years back. It's an internet thing. You get internet on the bus with it. You look like the dude to figure it for me, it's all a box of snakes to me, man. Oh, and look,' he said, digging in his pocket and pulling out a battered Nokia 3510, 'get one of the girls to call that tour manager, tell her we done left already. She's in this phone, Leona, or Ebony or something.' As Francis leaned over to take the phone, Whitley grabbed his shoulder and pulled him close conspiratorially. 'Hey, I got Emmylou Harris's number in there. Wanna ring her? Ah, what a woman, Emmy...'

A horn sounded behind the tour bus, shaking Whitley from his reverie. The lights were green. 'Tampaaa!' he roared.

Within a matter of minutes, Kelsey had been picked on by Nick, defended, by Mitch, and then shooed back to the tour bus. She did not mind at all though. This gave her some time to work on her suitcase situation. When she walked onto the tour bus, Kelsey slipped back into the bedroom area again and waited quietly as the others made their way onto the bus. The bus driver seemed very ’interesting’. He was very open to everyone in the band, so he couldn't be that bad.

The greetings were short, simple, and sweet. Whitley slowed the group around the tour bus, even though there was not much so show. Still, Kelsey figured that it would be a homey place; after all, the small setting would force the group to be together. They may even leave tips and trades of the road, like how to be resourceful. After the mini tour, Whitley said that they were setting off. Kelsey simply nodded and accepted this fact. She moved to the rear of the bus, due to the lack of space in the first. The trip to Tampa would be rather short, but she wanted to be comfortable at least.