(4) Out of Control: An All Time Low FanFiction Romance

Chapter 3: Family

        "We're fucking touring with ALL TIME LOW!" Maverick screamed outside my bedroom door, probably for the tenth time since we'd left the meeting. I rolled my eyes, stripping off the clothes I'd been wearing to replace them with a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt.

        We were staying in a hotel for now, put up by Hopeless Records. Being the only girl, I had my own room, Xavier had his own room because he would "throw himself off of the building" if he had to share with Porter or Maverick. That left them in the same room, which might have been worse than an annoyed Zave sharing with them.

        "If you two don't stop yelling I will glue your fucking mouths shut," Zave growled as I opened the door, venturing out into the living space. He was sprawled out on the couch, legs covering most of the space so nobody else could sit. I could hear Porter in his bedroom, having a conversation with his girlfriend from back in Boston. I thought he was insane for trying to keep a long distance relationship going, but he'd been with her for longer than I could remember, and I guess neither of them wanted to cut it off.

        Mav was reclined deeply into the smaller sofa, watching whatever Zave had on. "Aren't you excited?" he asked happily, eyes falling to me. Sometimes he was too energetic for his own good.

        "I'd be al ot more excited if I didn't have to hear your annoying voice every two seconds," I shot back, watching his hand move up to his chest, patting the area over his heart.

        "Ouch, Nat. That hurt," he said sarcastically, smirking at me. I shot him a look, picking up Xavier's legs so I could sit on the other end of the couch. He bent his knees, his toes pushing into the couch, digging underneath the edge of my leg. I glanced at him, but his eye were focused on the television, watching the highlights of a basketball game from last night.

        I leaned my head back against the couch, closing my eyes, blocking out the sports announcers with my own thoughts.

        The Dirty Work tour kicked off March 22nd in Philadelphia. That was only a few weeks away. A few weeks and I'd be on a tour bus for months, a different city or two every cay. We'd be performing for hundreds of people, whether they were just coming for All Time Low or not wasn't important to me, because they'd hear us. That was pretty fucking cool.

        I smiled to myself, imagining how this tour could really launch us, bringing us into the spotlight we'd been woring at for four years.

        "Thinking about me again?" Maverick's voice rang through my ears, pulling me away from my thoughts. My smile dropped as I turned my head in his direction, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

        "Thinking about how I'd like to push you and your fat ass head out that window," I muttered, eyes darting between the window and his face.

        "I don't know how I'm going to survive two months on a bus with you guys," Xavier sighed, before Maverick could even respond.

        I laughed lightly, patting his leg before standing up. "You'll learn to live with us," I smiled, moving towards the kitchen area. Porter came out of his room as I was walking, glancing at me with a smile.

        "How's Brianna?" I asked, walking past him to the fridge. I guess I wanted them to work out, as stupid as I thought long-distance relationships were. I mean, I didn't see why you'd want to be attached to somebody miles away from you, always knowing they could be with somebody else, taking advantage of your absense. Maybt it was because I never really wanted commitment myself. I liked the chase, the excitement of something new, but just like everything else I started besides the band, I got bored easily. I was always looking for something new, the less commitment the better.

        Porter shrugged, Maverick's voice sounding before he could answer. "Is she banging someone else yet?" Maverick called from across the room. I shook my head at his question, leaning down to look into the fridge. There wasn't much, mostly energy drinks and snacks. We hadn't bothered to get anything else, figuring we could order in until we had the time, and evegy to find real food. Now was a good time. I didn't want to live on Chinese or Pizza for the next three weeks. I was yearning for something home-cooked, the first feeling of home-sickness I'd felt since we arrived in Los Angeles.

        "No, dickhead," Porter responded, "We actually know how to keep a relationship."

        "Yeah? What's that supposed to mean?" Maverick questioned. I slammed the fridge shut, leaning across the counter.

        "It means that girls actually want to be with him," I answered. "We're in serious need of food, who wants to go find a grocery store?" Xavier turned off the television, lifting himself off the couch.

        "I was watching that, man," Maverick groaned, but Zave kept walking forward as he answered.

        "If we're going, you're coming too. We don't need you two trashing the room while we're gone," he said, taking long strides towards me. I smiled, watching Porter turn to face us, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

        "Who died and made you king?" he questioned Xavier, reaching out to punch Maverick's arm as he was slowly walking past.

        "What the fuck?" he muttered, turning to hit Porter back, slinging an arm around his neck to pull him into a headlock.

        "You're just proving my point, idiots," Xavier muttered, pulling open the door to the room. I walked out of the kitchen area, ducking between Maverick and Porter to pull them apart, draping my hands around their shoulders to keep them separated from each other.

        As obnoxious as the guys could be, separate or together, our years together as a band had created a bond between us. We spent so much time together, practicing and playing in local shows, writing and recoridng the EP's. We'd known each other since before that, growing up in the same neighborhood.

        Maverick and Porter had initially started the band, inviting Xavier once they'd heard him play the guitar. Being one of the guys, and having my own dream of being in a band, I'd asked if I could be apart of it. It wasn't easy to persuade them to let me sing, but I'd proved my worth almost automatically.

        Since then, we'd been together, working to bring ourselves to where we were now. It brought some of the best memories into my life, something I wouldn't trade for the entire world. The guys were my family, and I knew that I could always count on them.