I sat inside our tour bus, fanning myself with the latest AP magazine. I'd imagined that Warped Tour would be hot, I mean it is like Summer, but never THIS hot. I don't even know where we are right now, or even care for that matter.
All I know is that it's 110 degrees outside right now, not a cloud in the sky, and it's not even lunch. I could already see the crowds of people gathering by the gates, all of them looked equally hot, but still bore smiles on their faces.
A few of them even had on our war paint, and black clothes like ours. I'd told all the fans that no matter how hot it was we'd still be wearing our leather and paint. Looking back on it, it was a stupid decision. But it's part of who we are, I'm not doing this half ass.
The light poured into the bus as the door was swung open. An exhausted Ashley, covered in sweat walked in, a displeased look on his face. He plopped down on the couch in front of me and sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"How the fuck are you not sweating?" he bellowed, glaring at me. I looked down at myself.
"I don't know"
"Have you even been outside?!"
"No..." he rolled his eyes.
"Of course not, because princesses don't go outside when it's anything less then perfect weather do they?"
"Excuse you?!" I said taking offense.
Just because I don't want to get all hot and sweat before I have to go on, doesn't make me some spoiled bitch.
"You heard me, are you as deaf as you are dumb?" Okay, that was it. Ashley always does this, he constantly makes fun of me, and insults me. I mean we do it to each other all the time, everyone does. But with the other guys it's just joking around, he actually MEANS it.
"Ashley I don't know who the fuck you're talking to, but it better not be me" I challenged him.
"You know what? I think I'll do what I want" he said, throwing a pillow over his face. Great, now he's goanna get it all sweaty.
I looked down at my legs, almost all of my pale white skin was showing. I'd never been one to wear anything but black skinny jeans, or my black leather tights, but I couldn't take the heat anymore, and had cut the legs off an old pair of skinny jeans.
I'd cut them to short though, and ended up just looking like some slutty high schooler, they barely covered the top of my thighs. To top off my over all "slutty" look, I was wear a cut off KISS T-shirt that hung loosely from my frail frame and fell over my shoulders, before terminating right before my belly button.
I don't care WHAT I appear to look like right now, you try to sit in a bus all day that's only a few degrees cooler the the Hell that is outside, and tell me if you don't have slut it up a bit.
I pulled my long raven black hair that reached my mid back and chest, back and tied it in a poney tail, fanning my neck. I love my hair long, but it does get hot.
Ashley's built stomach rose and fell with each breath he took. He was completely shirtless, and his jeans ripped about as far as they could be until they'd just fall apart. He groaned once more at the heat on the bus.
"Ashley shut up, it was quiet in here until you got in"
"You can leave you know"
"Or you can" I mumbled, sinking lower in my seat.
All this heat is starting to make my head hurt. And Ashley's bitching isn't making it any better. I held my head in my hands, and shut my eyes, trying to make the dull pain go away. I hate the summer, with a passion. I'm more of a winter guy. You can always put more clothes on, but there's a limit on how much you can take off.
The guys from Asking Alexandria were outside our bus, Danny has to be the loudest person I've ever met. I could hear his heavy British accent even through the bus's steal walls.
"Oi' mate, it's bloody 'ot out 'er" Amen, brother.
The bands this year weren't that bad. D.R.U.G.S was on here, which meant I'd have my best friend Matt all summer. He shared our bus with us a lot, even though Ashley despised him for some reason. Maybe that's part of the reason I liked him so much.
Then there were the guys from Asking Alexandria, all fairly nice dudes, Ashley favored them more though, no doubt due to their heavy drinking and sex talk. In addition there were the two guys from Blood On The Dance Floor. Jayy and Dahive, and despite our musical differences, they were pretty chill.
Not to mention Jayy's not that bad looking either. Gay, too. As for the other freaking millions of bands on here I hadn't really gotten the chance to talk to them. They all seemed nice though, with the exception of Motionless In White.
We'd toured with them before, and honestly I thought they were okay dudes, but after that little fall out a few months back, I can't even stand to look at them. Chris is a douche, and so is Ricky. The rest I couldn't give a shit about.
"Andrew!" Ashley yelled my name.
"God damn it what?!"
"Stop day dreaming about fucking Danny and help me!"
"Sorry I don't swing that way" he said with a chuckle.
"I'm not helping you do shit!" I said, crossing my arms.
"Fine be a bitch" he said before existing the bus. Stupid bitch. I didn't need his bull shit. I have my own. No one knows it, but I may look perfect and happy, but I'm not.
I hate myself. My body, my looks, myself in general. No one sees the scars that decorate the top of my legs, no one hears my painful cries at night, no one notices my lack of food or the hours I've spent in the bathroom undoing a day of indulgence.
The fans don't see me, they see Andy Six, the super hero, this perfect god, they don't know the time and effort it takes to become him. They don't see my tattered wings of vanity and wax.
No one does.