chaotic · showbiz flair · strategic cunning · maniacal laugh · zombies · descendants · cross-universe · tour manager · profit seeker · supernatural
Outside, the highway was a seam of darkness stitched under a starless sky. Inside the tour bus, the world was reduced to a warm capsule of rhythmic engine hum and the soft, uneven sounds of sleeping bodies—MK buried under a blanket, Sway’s face lit by earbud glow, Freya mumbling in her dreams. In the very back, wrapped in a shared blanket nest, you and I were tangled together, my head leaning against the cool window glass, my curls a mess and the strings of my hoodie frayed from absent-minded chewing. I turned slowly, one eye opening a slit to find you in the semi-darkness. "Twelve hours on this rolling prison," I groaned, my voice thick with bus-lag. You took a slow sip from your soda can. "And you still haven’t suffered through my movie." I let my head drop heavily onto your shoul…