The Venn Chronicles: In Cold Blood

Prologue

Venn Slater stepped out of his studio apartment, smelling the dirty, clogged air of his home in downtown LA. January always smelled bad. He'd long ago adjusted to the changing climate around him. When he'd been growing up, the air was cleaner, but not so much anymore.
"Like rancid fresh air. No place like home." He snarked to himself, dragging his luggage to the tour bus where his bandmates were waiting for him.
There was Kurt the party animal guitarist, nursing a coffee in his hands, presumably to cure his hangover.
Then there was the family man, drummer, and designated driver, Mike. He was twirling his drum sticks, as was his habit.
And last but certainly not least, the cofounder along with Venn, Venn's best friend, and bassist, Donovan. He was staring at his phone, probably letting their horde of fans know that they were taking a hiatus.
"Oh, yeah, don't help, that's fine I guess." Venn said sarcastically, wrestling his suitcase down the stairs from the entrance of his building. He slammed it down on the pavement, breathing relatively hard. "Do you have any idea how many stairs I had to lug this thing down?" He wrestled it again into the bus. "Ok, can we go now? I'm getting itchy feet." Venn complained, tapping his fingers on his black pants. "We need to leave now if we want to be in Washington before dark."
"Yeah, just let me text Nancy and we can go." Mike said, texting his wife to let her know they were leaving. "Alright, let's go." He climbed up into the driver's side, setting his drumsticks down once he got up there.
"Don't die trying to get in, Kurt. We don't need a dead, hungover guitarist. Hungover is fine, but try not to be dead." Donovan said, holding Kurt's coffee so his hands were free.
"Oh, shut the fuck up, dude. My head hurts too bad to deal with your shit today." Kurt snapped, swiftly taking his coffee back. He was a dickhead drunk, and a dickhead hungover.
"Okay, Jesus dude. Take a chill pill." Donovan placated, shaking his head and climbing in after him.
Venn didn't bother climbing in, he just hopped in. He was the tallest.
"Show off." Donovan mumbled, giving Venn a joking snicker.

"Hey, not my fault you're so damn short." Venn said, playfully patting Donovan on the head.

"Boy, if you don't shut the fuck up I will cut you off at the knees." He responded, punching Venn in the arm.
After a few hours on the road, the start of their 3 or 4 month long hiatus, Venn looked back on his life in his head. He grew up not poor, but definitely not rich. A socio economics class would call it 'lower middle class'. He went to school in inner city LA, where he had to fend for himself and his family. He dropped out of high school in 10th grade; The teachers and the school staff were apathetic in what they were "teaching", so Venn decided he would just teach himself everything he needed to know about everything. He doesn't have a diploma, but he put in the effort to successfully get a GED and hold down a job. About a month after he turned 18 and got an apartment in the inner city where he grew up, his parents tragically perished in a car accident involving a drunk driver who later died as well.
Soon after, he met Donovan in a sandwich shop. They shared a love for hard rock and had both been playing instruments for around 15 years. They began to write songs as they ate sandwiches that would eventually be named after them. They took off with their music, doing gigs with just the two of them, Venn on vocals and guitar, and Donovan on bass and backing vocals. After a year or so of that, they branched out and recruited Mike and Kurt to form the band, System Sapphire. The band reached almost immediate success after releasing 3 independent studio albums over the next two and a half years. Fans all over the world heralded them as "One of the best unsigned rock bands of the 21st century." and cited their work as "Inspiring songs from inspiring minds." "World of Hate", a frustration-fueled song about society's lies and facades, was number one on the charts for 6 months and rocketed their album to platinum in a year.
But continuous touring can get tiring, so they decided to take a hiatus to focus on something other than constant songwriting, as fun as that was. Washington was where most of their road trips would happen, except one in Oregon on the way back home.
Venn ran a hand through his long, blonde hair. He was more than ready to be on wild ground, in the wilderness of Washington. He hadn't been on a trip like this since his parents had been alive. "Hey, I'm gonna go take a nap. See you guys when I get up." He said, walking to the back of the bus and getting in his bunk. Kurt was across from him, passed out in a drunken stupor again. Venn put his arm over his blue eyes to shield them from the dim lights. When he woke up, they had reached the first of their hiking spots. He'd never been so happy to be outside.