Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 18.5: June 2, 1987

"Hey, you alright?"

Tommy's large hand cautiously pulled back the bunk's curtain as if he was approaching a rabid animal. With Jimmie's hot temper, he might as well have been.

She remained silent, back facing him, as he awkwardly stood hunched over to peer into the low bunk, waiting for a response. He waited a few moments' breaths, and eventually a few more.

Nothing.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he mumbled uncomfortably.

He didn't know the girl well enough to be asking her that, but the bus was suffocating everyone with the tension between Nikki and Jimmie. Tommy felt it was his responsibility to at least try and reason with the both of them. Nikki had merely shrugged a shoulder when his drummer had asked what happened, "Ask her about it." And so he did, but she was showing no signs of giving in any time soon.

"I didn't have sex with you guys." she asserted randomly, finally shifting over to glare at the lanky brunette. "Okay..." he nodded slowly, waiting to see if she would elaborate.

"The night I saw you guys for the first time and saw the boys again, I didn't sleep with you guys. I know I didn't. I wouldn't do that to Steven. I understand that you guys are sleazy rockstars, but I'm not like that. Tell your delusional-fucking-bassist that. Steven's too good for this shit. I love-"

Her breathless rant came to an abrupt halt with her jumbling words. She didn't want to vent to Tommy, she didn't even fucking know him, but who else did she really have?

He quirked an eyebrow and almost smirked. She furrowed her eyebrows and gently shook her head, "Just.. fuck off, Tommy."

"Listen, babe, if you really want Nikki to talk to you-"

"I don't! That's the thing, that's what you idiots don't understand! I don't want to fucking talk to him! I'm not in the wrong here, nothing is my fault! I'm only staying on this bus because I don't have another choice!"

He gave her an impassive stare, unconvinced. It almost reminded her of Nikki's during their heated argument, but Tommy had always had a less serious aura about him, unlike Nikki.

Fucking Nikki.

"You're clearly in distress."

Jimmie returned the impassive glare back to Tommy, and her voice deadpanned, "You think so?"

"You should talk to someone. Not me, if you don't want to, but Steven and Nikki are obviously stressing you out, and that's not what rock n' roll is about."

"Tommy, I'm going to be honest, here: I don't give a fuck about what rock n' roll is about. I want my boyfriend with me and I want Nikki to fuck off, with his childish, annoying ass."

Tommy actually did smirk this time, and stared at her until she asked, "What?"

"Nothing, nothing, it's just... I didn't know you had a boyfriend. That's pretty official." Tommy's smug grin caused her to furrow her eyebrows in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said Steven was your boyfriend."

Jimmie shook her head and scoffed, "No I didn't."

"You did."

"Did not."

"You totally did."

"Tommy, shut the fuck up."

He shrugged, "I'm just saying, you guys make out, like, all the time. I'm surprised you haven't caught his crabs yet."

Her pretty face contorted with disgust, "You make out with a different girl every other hour, Tommy. You can't exactly be talking. Plus, he doesn't have crabs."

His look soon read 'seriously? you believe that?' and she began considering if he actually had STD's.

As she silently contemplated, her brows slightly furrowing while she stared at her hands, he finally huffed with a final conclusion, "We're stopping at a hotel in like two hours. Be as mad as you want until then, but you should talk to Steve when we get there. Your sexy boyfriend."

He slipped away with a boyish laugh as the apples of her cheeks grew light pink- Jimmie didn't blush.

Two more conflicting, thoughtful hours later, the large tour bus hauled itself over to a hotel in the heart of Texas. Austin's plethora of buildings and strange people satisfied Jimmie- she liked seeing these sorts of things. Though the weather was scorchingly hot, she hauled her bags right into the front lobby of the hotel and waited for Doc to assist them. Once checked in and notified that she would be staying with Steven, she bit her lip until it ached.

Tommy overhead and subtly nudged Jimmie as they walked behind the awkward bands. Duff was trying to make conversation with Nikki, but he wasn't having it, and Axl already seemed to be in a bad mood. Slash was stumbling in drunkenness, and Steven hadn't spoken a word. "I think it's time." Little did the girl know, Tommy had snuck in a word to Doc and requested Steve and Jimmie in the same room.

Jimmie's heart stuttered at Tommy's suggestion- she knew exactly what he was referring to. But she didn't want to apologize to Nikki, or Steven. She was stubborn and strong, did saying sorry make her weaker?

"Yeah..." she sighed, watching the fluffy blond's hair as he stared at the ground while he walked. It was painful knowing that she had caused the tension between the bands, but what could she really do? Jimmie's crippling embarrassment from the night out plus her big ego simply wouldn't allow her to fix this easily.

Eventually, and thankfully, the bands were led to their rooms and notified of rehearsal tonight. They were let free and each member gratefully retreated into the rooms. Steven briefly glanced back to Jimmie before opening the door and dragging in his overstuffed duffle bags. She took a deep breath and scolded herself for her hesitation. This should be easy, Jimmie, just fucking do it.

She followed behind Steven and tossed her bag on the floor before looking up to find one bed. Steven's wide, blue eyes reached hers and they shared an awkward expression. "Listen, uh.."

Before she could even get to the dreaded apology and explanation, a hard knock cracked against the door, to which Slash soon stumbled in without another moment passed. Steven's dark eyebrows furrowed at his wasted band mate and he quickly walked over, "Slash, buddy, I need you outta here."

"Woah, one bed? Alright, Steve-O! Get in there, you sly dog! Was that per your request, or.." Slash completely disregarded Steven's requests for his departure and his words spilled out in nearly incoherent mumbles. The blond hauled out his guitarist with a bashful smile to Jimmie and patted the guy on his back, "Duff wants to party, man."

"Oh, yeah? Duffy-boy! The party's comin' to you!" he hollered through the hotel's halls, stumbling himself into the walls with every other step. Closing the door and making sure to lock it, Steven returned back to his position beside Jimmie at a comfortable distance- maybe a bit too far for her preference.

And so with another deep breath and tensing her jaw, she stared Steven in his beautiful eyes.

Fuck.