"So, how did you get here, out in the middle of nowhere?" Ashton asked once the hitchhiker Joji got in the bus.
"Well, I just got back from California, and I had the worst time of my life." Joji said with a tired, sleep deprived look on his face that just screams "I suffered through some shit".
"Sit down on the top bunk and tell me about it." Ashton sat on the bottom bunk. But the thing about it is that I was sleeping on the top bunk. And I was sleeping with a bra on. But they didn't know that. So I'm technically sleeping with -- the handsome man who goes by the name -- Joji. By the way, I knew who he was before this; I've had a huge crush on him for almost a year now. His real name is George. What a beautiful name.
"So I got to California and all these people were running off the plane at once like they didn't want to be there anymore and I got trampled. Trampled. By all those damn people." George was telling his California trip like it was his whole life story or something. Nobody likes to hear life stories, usually. But I'd like to hear his.
Joji continued his California story, "The food at all the restaurants were terrible, the rain came as often as any real thing, it's too sunny, I wanted to leave, but it didn't work that way. Two weeks of torture until I booked the next flight home back to Japan. When I came back, I was walking home and then you guys came and -- I guess -- presented yourselves as fans of me and I like it in here a lot and I honestly want to live here now. I like you guys."
Hopefully he likes me too.
Ashton greeted him here. "Make yourself at home, um, can I call you Joji or--"
"That," George insisted. "and you can call me by my real name too, which is George."
"Alright, George." Ashton looked up at him. "I'm going to sleep. Good night."
Joji laid down, he still didn't notice he was in my bunk. He'd probably been in that bed for about 30 seconds before he thought I was a pillow and he put his arm around me and moved me closer to him. It was honestly the most wholesome feeling I've ever had.
Until it got to the point to where my asthma kicked in and I couldn't breathe under the blanket anymore.
I got up and gasped for air and George looked surprised that I was a person and not a pillow.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were a pillow." George whispered.
"Eh, I don't care." I put my arms around him and put my leg on his and he put his arms around me and rubbed my head and I felt like things were coming together now.
