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

Chapter 54: Death

        I yawned loudly, fixing my pull string bag over my back while wandering farther up the terminal and into the view of the section of LAX where we were dropped only ten minutes before.

        "Nat, do you have any Advil?" Maverick questioned, holding his head whle he glanced over his shoulder to look at me. I rolled my eyes at him with a smile, striping myself of the bag and pulling it around the front of my chest to view the contents inside.

        "I told you that you wouldn't be happy with a hangover on a plane," I taunted in a sing-song voice, getting more sleep on the flight than I planned.

        Xavier was walking behind me, trudging along with his phone attached to his ear. Kinsley was on the other line, probably asking how the flight went in a well-rested, bubbly voice. She hadn't come with us to California because she didn't need to. She handled merchandise and it had nothing to do with recording, and as much as Zave would have liked to take her with us, it wasn't in anyone's budget to get her the ticket.

        When we finally stepped into LAX, the sun was shining obnoxiously though the giant windows. I could smell the disinfectant int he air that I'd remembered from two months ago. It was strange, thinking back to the time, only a little over sixty days ago, when I barely understood what I was getting myself into.

        After popping out two large, blue pills and handing them to our idiotic drummer, I adjusted the bag and continued to the luggage claim. I told Lauren I'd call her when our suitcases were found, she had to be waiting outside in a large car, willing to take us to the apartment we'd found and were renting for the remainder of our summer in Los Angeles.

        "This is so fucking sick," Porter sighed at my side, smiling at the booming airport around us. The dark blue carpet created a pathway with small, planted palm trees every few feet weren't as exhilarating as he was making them out to be while looking at them.

        "When do we even get into the stuio?" I asked, partly excited and mostly nervous.

        I was still kicking myself inside for feeling that way. I was so tired of trying to make those stupid, useless feelings disappear. It was slowly killing me, I swore it would be the death of me eventually.

        "Uh, they're giving us the rest of today, and tomorrow to get settled in and then we go straight to work Thursday morning," Xavier mumbled, looking through his phone, most likely looking at the calendar.

        "Good, I need a fucking nap," Mav grunted in annoyance, and I chuckled lightly.

        "If you had just listened to me," I trailed off, crossing my arms over my chest. I was happy I didn't bring a sweatshirt with me this time around, too warm to even consider wearing it on the plane. My arms were exposed, a light t-shirt covering me and a pair of yoga pants around my legs.

        "Since when are you even the responsible one?" Maverick asked, slightly annoyed. I shrugged, licking my lips and rounding the next corner towards the baggage claim, where our plane's bags were circulating on the conveyor belt.

        After twenty minutes of waiting and watching Maverick's suitcase rotate eleven times after stating over and over that it wasn't hit, we were finally ready to go. I unlocked my phone, dialing Lauren's number and speaking briefly while she said she'd be pulling around to the pickup in only a moment.

        I was greeted by the warm, humid air when I stepped on the censored pad in front of the automatic door and under the overhang, shielding us from the unforgiving California sun.

        Like clockwork, Lauren was beeping the horn of her little red car I remembered seeing on our previous trip here, followed by an expensive and new looking Range Rover with a face hidden behind the glare of the windshield.

        I almost felt the color drain from my face, my mouth turning to a straight line while the rest of the bands approached the cars willingly. My feet felt like they were cement bricks, unable to attempt to move. I almost wanted to laugh, a ridiculous smile cracking across my face, shaking my head in disbelief.

        Most would have assumed Zack would have driven his own car to the airport, but he wasn't behind the wheel. In fact, he wasn't in the car at all. Three of the four members of All Time Low weren't in either car. It was one dark haired boy with dark brown eyes that were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses stepping out of the SUV, walking around and opening the back with a great, big, annoying smile in our direction.

        I rolled my eyes, snorting and moving towards Lauren's car. Xavier and Porter were already stuffing their bags into the back seat, with more waiting outside to be put into the trunk. I waited impatiently next to them while they attempted to fit their belongings inside, giving Lauren a smile when our gazes met. She only looked at me for a moment before turning away, almost scared.

        "We're riding in the Range Rover, Lauren's taking the luggage," Porter said while pulling his upper body out of the front seat where he comfortably sat his items.

        "Is this a joke?"

        I knew exactly why Lauren didn't want to look at me now.

        "It was easier that way," Xavier was trying to help the defenseless bassist who probably didn't deserve the tone I was giving him. I didn't give a fuck about rationality, I couldn't wrap my head around the cliché scene unfolding before me.

        The early afternoon sun was beating on my back, now exposed when out from under the protection of the hangover attached to the airport. I wasn't sure if it was just me or the intense heat that had my whole body feeling like it was on eifre.

        "Let's go, love, we've got places to be."

        I didn't think I'd cringe so much when he said that stupid nickname, the one I'd learned to hate when any guy used it. I shuddered, turning towards his cocky smile and thick eyebrows that were raised and visible over the top of his sunglasses.

        "Fuck my life," I groaned softly, picking up my feet and shuffling towards my death.