Teagan ran a hand through silky blonde locks in frustration. What was the matter with her? Ugh. So she hadn't warmed up in a few days. There was no way that she was losing her voice. That wasn't possible. "Do re mi fa sol la te-" her voice cracked on the last note. She cringed then quickly glanced around. Thank god, no one was awake yet. She tried again, to no avail.

"Dammit," she muttered out loud. This was bullshit. They were going to be in Las Vegas in a few days and she was going to have to perform. Teagan got up from the cushiony couch and stretched, no longer wobbly from the movement of the bus. After days of nonstop traveling, she got used to it.

Teagan padded her way over, barefoot, to the tiny counter and put on a pot of coffee. Blue eyes scanned the area; the boys were, no doubt, behind the other door, snoozing soundly in their beds. At least, that's what she imagined them to be doing. Unless her crappy singing had woken them up. Oh well...if that didn't do it, then surely the aroma of the coffee would.

[[Icky. Sorry. =( ]]

Teagan bit her lip in thought; was it coffee that was good for her voice? No, it couldn't be. The crazy herb lady she met in San Fransisco had prescribed something more woodsy, kind of off the charts. What was it, again? She ought to pay more attention to those things. Well, if her throat didn't improve she could resort to [cringe] lipsynching though she normally despised it. As usual, her mind was whirring and toying with more thoughts and ideas; it never seemed to get a break.

"Nutmeg tea!" she said suddenly. "That's what it was. Nutm-" Teagan turned around, then stopped midsentence. Elliott had just walked in, clad in only boxers. "Well hel-lo handsome," she purred teasingly and gave an overexaggerated wink. "If you keep walking around like that, I might have to tackle you, Bam Bam, and I don't think anyone wants to see that." She called him by his nickname affectionately- 'Bam Bam' certainly appeared to be a fitting name for a drummer, anyhow. Teagan flashed a smile; actually, to be honest, his choice of clothing probably wasn't any worse than the tank top and pajama short-shorts that adorned her own body.

"Heard you were practicing, love. Crowds sure to love us."

Teagan stuck her tongue out as he turned around to pour some coffee. "Help yourself," she said sarcastically, acting miffed. She dropped the facade and added, "Actually, drink it all. I'm going to make tea." She began to rummage in a cupboard, then after successfully locating the kettle, put it on the miniature stove top. "On second thought, you might want to leave some for Wes. You know how mornings are..." Teagan glanced back at the door. "He up yet?"

She began to boil water, half-listening to whatever was on TV. Knowing Elliott, it was the news. Upon hearing the name "Siidwalk Chalk" spoken, her attention was caught. The anchor man was talking about how they, and other bands, were on tour and were going to perform in Viva, Las Vegas.

"Elliott! Elliott! It's us!" It was still hard to get used to the sudden fame. Well, sort of fame, anyway. They started out as a myspace-garage-playing-band and ended up being mentioned on TV all in a few short month. "I just love Siidwalk Chalk," a southern sounding girl squealed into a microphone. "I'm travelin' all the way from Texas to see them. Ya'll are super hot!"

Teagan turned to face him with a bemused expression. "Huh. Did you hear that? We're 'super hot'." She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Do you think she's 'super hot'? I bet she thinks you're 'super hot'. Ooh, you two could date. I think that'd be 'super hot'." She laughed to herself then stole the remote from him and turned off the TV. "What do you think? Is she your kind of girl?"

"Actually, I think that would be rather pleasant to watch. Now that I think about it, I think I would like that."

Teagan smiled warmly at the contact. Then she said it. It just slipped out without thinking and most definitely without warning. Probably the most mood-killing, worst thing she could say in the world. "But I doubt Conner would." Though she said it lightly and in a playful manner, she could feel the atmosphere change drastically. Conner; how idiotic of her to bring him up. She had just barely gotten past the mark where she could say his name without bursting into tears and here she was, casually throwing around her dead boyfriend- or, technically, ex boyfriend- and Elliott's brother's name.

Teagan cleared her throat during a long awkward silence. It occured to her how very wrong it was to be hitting on Elliott at the moment, even if she was just playing around. She could feel a slight blush creep up her porceline-like skin, a rare feat for her. She hardly ever blushed. Mostly because she didn't feel the need to be embarrassed about most things. She turned back to the kettle, pretending to be fussing ove rit. Teagan was grateful when the subject switched back to Wes.

"Nah, the lug is still sound asleep."

She gave a silent sigh of relief. Things were back to normal once again. "Wonder how long he'll sleep for..." A dangerous smile tugged at the corners of her lips, showing plainly that she obviously meant for the comment to be suggestive towards Elliott. Teagan automatically stopped herself. Apparently she wasn't very good at the whole stop-flirting-self-control thing.

"You know, when girls say that we're 'super hot,' they mean I'm super hot."
Teagan rolled her eyes dramatically. "Maybe she's a lesbian," she breathed under her breath, just loud enough for him to make out what she was saying. "And as for the gal, I don't think she's my type...I'm more into the low key, non-southern accent type. But hey, she likes us. Thats all that matters." Teagan shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess. It's kinda freaky in a way, isn't it? Having these crazed fans all of a sudden I mean."

"Tot, you really should be gargling salt water or something. Anything with more carbonation that that."

Teagan grinned at the name 'Tot'. It was clever, standing for Teagan Olivia Tasler. She recalled not too long ago when she mentioned to the band that she was going to 'change her middle name to Ingrid'. They all got a laugh out of that one. "Salt water?" she made a face as the kettle began to whistle. "Come on, you've got to know me better than that." She brushed by him and poured the steaming water into a coffee mug then added the teabag. "I mean, if it's anything like the ocean water, count me out. This should do for now."

Teagan lifted her glass up as if in demonstration, then took a sip. Ahh. Soothing relief. So pleasan- "Ouch!" She quickly put the cup down, raced to the sink and stuck her head under the running water, letting it dribble into her mouth. Once finished, she stood up straight and offered an embarrassed smile. "Burnt my tongue."

[Random stopping point. haha.]

He was in no good mood at all. Ironically enough, Westin was normally happiest on the bus. Things were not hectic, everyone was calm, and he had a chance to hold a decent conversation without having to shout over a crowd. He normally enjoyed the kick-back, on-the-road experience. This morning.... well, he was off to a bad start.

The air-conditioning on the bus was cold. When you came off stage and into that basic paradise-like sanctuary... it was normally good. He was not in the mood to freeze this morning; yet he had.

His tall torso had been clad only in a pair of [totally mature] dinosaur-boxers upon the hour which he stumbled into the shared 'bedroom,' and slid into the netted hammock he insisted on sleeping in. He planned on a good night's sleep; but was rid only with horrible dreams.

In those dreams, he- no, no. In those nightmares.... he had done the unthinkable. He had...... gotten a haircut.

This was a traumatizing idea for Westin, who was so incredibly fond of his blonde-and-brunette locks, it was almost incomprehensible. He woke up in a [freezing] cold sweat; clinging to his single blanket, as he prayed the damn AC would just quit conveniently for once in his touring life. But to no avail, he continued on. He watched the digital clock on the floor flash by the early hours of the morning. He couldn't go back to sleep.

He wouldn't allow himself to endure another dreamy trip to the barber. No sir.

He sat and stared blankly at the clock; his mocha-colored eyes incredibly vacant, and occasionally drifting into sleep. He couldn't help it. He was so accustomed to sleeping into the afternoon, that this all-nighter was starting to be a hazardous threat to beauty-sleep. He couldn't take it. He...had..to....sleep....

And, it seemed that as soon as his eyelids fluttered to a close, they snapped back open; his ever-hungry stomach accustomed to the scent of coffee, stirring him from his hammock. Without thinking; he rolled over, expecting to take a step forward toward the delicious hazelnut scent.

Instead, he ended up nowhere. "MOTHER FUC-" His cuss was interrupted by his face meeting the floor, as his six-foot-torso of skin-and-bone slammed down with a weightless 'thud. He groaned lazily; rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand like a child, before deciding it was time to start his day.

He emerged from the room with a sour expression on his face. This was so rare.

He was already dressed... Well, kind of. His skinny-jeans clung to his legs but draped at his hips; exposing a good inch or so of boxer, as his inside-out shirt stuck to his scrawny torso. He wore his belt around his neck lazily, and his bare feet slapped across the floor as he seated himself half-blindly on the end of the couch; shooting a warning glare to Elliot and Teagan.

He caught a small snippet of their conversation as he was getting dressed, and was intent on butting in. Because that was just what he did. He reached under the couch quietly; pulling a laptop onto his lap and switching it on with a yawn; curling his impossibly long legs underneath him. "If someone's tongue is in need of attention, Wessie will be the one to inspect it. Thank you very much." He half-purred with a curt nod; abandoning the loading computer on the couch, to stagger toward the kitchenette, and pour himself a bowl of froot-loops combined with the crumbs of lucky charms. "Who was on the news?" He asked timidly; tilting his spoon in the direction of the TV which had previously been the topic of discussion.

Please. Wes wasn't really interested. He had never been able to understand the actual terms used on commercials for laundry-soap, let alone cable TV.

Atleast he tried to bridge the difference. Right?."

[I suck, so shut up. I already know this post is gonna be hell.]

"See, dearest Ellie? If I wasn't a lesbian, than this situation would probably be pretty scandelous."

Trying not to be too distracted by his hott best friend who sat upon his lap, he just cleared his throat in an effort to act somewhat normal.

Elliott was never a lady-charmer like Connor, and to be quite frank, most people liked it that way. Sure, he could flirt- but it always felt awkward. Being the shy type was his old self, though, and now that he was on the road and living for real he was going to have to start taking a lot more chances.

"Well if you were a lesbian, oh wait- since you are a lesbian...you wouldn't mind me doing this." He leaned in closer, and then- no. No. No. No. How cheesy could he get?

The moment Teagan's eyes averted from his, Elliott knew he had done something wrong. He hadn't kissed her. He was just...joking? Yes, that was it. But that look, the look in her eyes- it was like nothing he had seen before. Scared, hurt- a yearning for something that wasn't there. Something Elliott probably wasn't aloud to couldn't possibly offer her.

Just moment after he had settled himself comfortably (or as comfortably as you could get on this monster of a couch) back where he was before, the bedroom door creaked open. Out walked Wes, clad in jeans, boxers, and a T-shirt. Skinny little ass.

"Hey dude," Elliott said, not even glancing up to have to know it was Wes who had sat down next to him. It wouldn't be Teagan, of course. She most likely hated him now, right? Judging by the look she gave him, probably. Ignoring the tongue comment, he listened in to there conversation, adding comments here and there.

"Well, at least you had the decency to put on a shirt."

Tilting his head to the side- whether he did so to look innocent or to move his hair, he wasn't sure- Elliott scoffed. "Maybe some people should have the decency to put on a full pair of pants." Cracking a smile, he scanned Teagans bare legs. At least his boxers went below his knees.

"Who was on the news?"

Before Elliott could even reply, Teagan jumped in. "We were, why do you ask?" For a moment, he thought of just keeping quiet. Talking was over-rated anyways. But Teagan's comment almost made him laugh- question the obvious, why don't you.

"Just a guess, but he probably was wondering why his friends were watching lies, lies, and more lies. Seeing as we are living together, he knows we don't watch to much television- eh?-" He paused, as if asking Wes if he was correct. "But besides, it was nothing. Just some lesbian saying we were 'super hott'." Grabbing the remote, Elliott switched off the TV. He was never one for the thing, anyway. Reading, music, and sketching were more his type.

Sighing, he resigned once more from his spot on the couch. "I'm going to go write or something." Stretching, he thought of all the new songs they would need to have, and in a short period of time. Writing the lyrics was always fun, and Elliott liked to do that in his free time- although he preferred to write the actual music. "Duce." He laughed, his hands forming the peace sign. Walking towards the kitchen, he wondered what the day would hold.

[shoot me.]

"I could double-check to make sure, though. Be on the safe side." Wes remarked casually, making her smile slightly.

"I'll be sure to call you if I need assistance," her lips twitched, giving a shadow of a smile. Teagan glanced at him as he poured cereal into his breakfast bowl. Her stomach growled; she was soo craving Lucky Charms. Dammit. They were out. She'd have to settle for whatever Wes was munching on. "Careful," she cautioned as she swiped the box away from him, "You don't want to eat too much. You've been putting on some weight, I hate to tell you." This was, obviously, said in sarcasm. Westin was practically a skeleton.

"Bonjour, senor Elliooooottt. Italian-speaking."

Teagan didn't bother to correct him, or tell him that he was speaking both spanish and french, but no Italian. She didn't want to put him back in a "mood." He then went on to reply back to her dinosaur comment. "Shut up, wench. You're just jealous of my mad-attractive hip bones. Which you want to touch."

"Want?" she said innocently. "I've already touched them. You were just sleeping that's all. Sorry that you missed it." She shrugged nonchalantly, making no effort to show that she was joking.

"Beauty before age."

"Normally only people who are beautiful say that." Teagan snickered, unable to hold that one back. She poured the colorful cereal into a paper bowl; everything on the bus was paper. Paper plates, paper cups, paper...everything. That, or plastic. Anything that was disposable. Elliott joined in on the convesation about their lack of clothing.

"Maybe some people should have the decency to put on a full pair of pants."

"Oh sweetie," she cooed, "what would be the fun in that? You know if I wore pants, you two wouldn't get as much enjoyment out of it." Wes made a weird noise in his throat as he logged onto his myspace, and Teagan was unable to tell whether it was a response to her or the machine. "I can take my shirt off, if you want. I know you love it."

"Save it for later, Westin. It's too early in the morning to get me this hot," Teagan sighed dramatically, then laughed to herself. They went on to the subject of the news, Elliott cutting Wes off for some long intelligent explanation while Wes nodded along, sort of dumb-founded. He opened his mouth to speak again.

"That's not nothing, if she was a sexy lesbian. Like Teagan."

Teagan raised a defiant eyebrow toward Elliott as if to say "see?" then dipped her plastic spoon into her cereal. Westin suddenly gaped at the computer screen. "Son of a-Myspace bitches. 'Wes. You seriously need to shut up, and play the guitar. You're not as funny as you think you are, and you look like a fucking skeleton. Man-up before you get to Vegas, and learn to let Teagan and Elliott be the ones to talk. Your job is just to stand, strum, and look pretty. LOL.' Teagsie. I'm a man, aren't I?"

Teagan hid her giggling face behind the cereal box. Finally, when she composed herself, she put a sympathetic hand on Westin's shoulder, a sort of motherly guesture. "Sure, hon," she nodded to him. "Well, legally, anyhow."

"I'm going to go write or something."

Teagan watched Elliott retreat with a sullen expression on her face. "If you're the one writing me these hate comments, I'll slap you. Hard."

"Now now, Wes, there's no need for that," she tisked, "We all know Elliott would never use the word 'LOL'." She grinned at her [what she thought was] wit, then turned to Elliott. "If you really want to make yourself useful, you could write some lyrics." She flashed a hopeful, charming smile his way, then groaned to herself. "I still have no idea what to perform in Vegas."

[Sorry, I have limited time on here. haha]