Grey

Nine

[FINN]

"I am drenched, holy fuck."

Jack voiced what we were all thinking as we made our way backstage. Dallas had given us a warm welcome, to say the least - I'd never sweat so much in my life. I pushed the hair sticking to my forehead back, dying to hop in a cold, cold shower.

I flinched as Jack's fingers dug into my shoulders, slipping against the wet skin.

"Finny boy is used to hearing that, hm?"

"Off," I grumbled, shaking him off. "You smell like a pig."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

Pete and Ace, along with a bunch of our crew, were close behind as we went back into the dressing room. I made eye contact with Pete and started running as fast as I could to the bathroom door, but he'd slipped in right before. I was met with the closed door in my face as I slammed my palm against it, hearing him turn on the small shower.

"Wanker."

Accepting my fate, I pulled my shirt over my head to relieve some of the discomfort while I waited. Ace was sifting through the mini fridge as I walked over towards my phone, touching the screen to see if I'd missed anything.

I bit down on my cheek to stop the smile from spreading. I had.

"Finn."

I nodded, accepting the Guinness Ace offered me. He popped the top off, handing it over as I took the biggest swig I could, the cold liquid refreshing as it traveled down my throat. I threw my body onto the couch, appreciating the chill of the leather as I re-read the text.

More rhinestones. Go big or go home. And matching boots. Please.

I'd sent her a picture wearing a red cowboy hat, half jokingly. I'd never been to Texas before and everything so far had been fascinating. I'd let her know I wanted to go line dancing and she let me know I wasn't allowed to unless I had the proper attire.

Do you think assless chaps would suit me?

Her reply was instant, Cheeky.

"There goes Finn for the night..." I vaguely heard Jack, thinking about what to say back to Rory. "Bye Finn, great show. See you tomorrow."

I looked up, receiving an annoyed look from my longtime friend. He had a lit joint between his fingers, taking a drag before passing it over to Ace.

"Hm?"

"You've been glued to that thing," he shook his head incredulously, Ace laughing in passive agreement. "Can't even carry a conversation with you these days, it's miserable to be around."

"We weren't even having a conversation."

I rolled my eyes at the dramatics, not really in the mood to get into one of our usual rows. Out of the entire band, I'd known Jack the longest - and while him and I were probably the most different, he was the closest to feeling like a brother. When I was kicked out of boarding school and dead set on starting a band, Jack was right there with me leading the charge.

We didn't really talk about life things that much, because we didn't have to. He'd been there through all my ups and downs with my dad and I'd helped him bury his brother. Somewhere along the way, we'd signed an unspoken agreement that some things were better left unsaid.

"Not just talking about right now," he pressed, smirking over at me in defiance. "At the hotel, on the bus, before the show..."

"Piss off, Jack," I muttered, carelessly throwing my hand up with my growing agitation. "How is being on my phone any different than you chatting up random birds all night?"