2.0 The Chronicles of Us - Shame & Blame

Chapter eighteen

I cross my arms and defend myself with a scowl. "I don't fucking think so."

Roy narrows his eyes at me. "Lose the attitude. There's more at stake than your fragile insecurities."

This guy has way too much fun fucking with me, but he's right. I'm being a tad dramatic. Reluctantly, I yield. "Fine."

He nods, satisfied. "Good. Now, try them on while I go talk to the camera crew."

Why am I such a pain in the ass?

I glance at Joey and Axel who have both changed into the uniform. Okay, they look pretty damn smooth. During my stay in Texas, Axel cut his hair short. Joey, on the other hand, has been growing his blond hair out since January. They're like one of those cartoon duos, unexplainably well-matched. Black vs blond, slim vs huge. They're a team.

And yet, they've never made me feel left out. From day one, they've welcomed me into their weird bubble and all I ever do is bitch and complain. If they don't mind wearing these clothes, I should keep an open mind.

With a sigh, I undress myself and suit up. I can only hope, this is gonna be legendary. My reflection in the mirror doesn't look too bad. I'm only slightly disgusted. Can't shake the feeling I'm part of a circus act, though.

Joey appears next to me. "What do you think? Ready for take-off?"

Stay positive.

"I feel like we're selling out."

No, I'm selling out. I'm the one airing my dirty laundry, trading my heartache for money. It's distasteful, really. Ah, inner conflict. How I've missed you.

He shrugs. "Maybe we are, but I like to think we are just a group of friends having some fun. How many people get to say they toured across the country and shot a music video wearing these atrocities?"

Fucking wise guy. "I suppose you're right, but it would've been nice if we'd done something meaningful by now. You know, cause anarchy, topple the world order or, at least, fuck with the crusade on profanity."

An amused snort slips his lips. "There will be enough time for all that. Right now, we're young. Let's enjoy it while we still can." He slaps the pilot hat on my head and laughs. "It's time for hair and makeup."

Goddammit.

I check myself in the mirror once more before following him. Ellie would've loved this shit. If she was here, I could've made some Mile High Club jokes. Maybe we could've sneaked into the cockpit—hehe—for some oral activities.

Stop fantasizing.

After an hour—a fucking hour!—of being in hair and makeup, we're finally done. They plucked my damn brows. It hurt like a motherfucker. Seriously, I don't understand why girls do this to themselves willingly. I swear, if those beauticians messed up my scowl, I'm gonna sue them ... Anyway, after grunting and complaining for a solid ten minutes, Axel told me to shut the fuck up. I suppose, that stuff they put in my hair makes it a more manageable mess.

I open a can of energy drink in hopes it will give me the energy to rock the stage all day. In less than half an hour, the cameras will start rolling. Axel, Joey and I sit in a private room to relax before we have to perform. The sugary liquid flows down my gullet and then almost goes down the wrong pipe when Axel suddenly shout, "Holy shit!."

"What?" I chuckle on forehand. "Is Viagra on sale?"

He doesn't laugh. In fact, when his eyes seek mine, he frowns like he's worried. "Maybe now's not the time."

The fuck?

Why is he being so vague? "Spit it out."

Joey looks just as confused as me. "Yeah, what's going on?"