Random Short Stories

|| After The Show ||

*purely fictional*

"DALTON I TOLD YOU THE JUDGES DON'T LIKE BOY BANDS I TOLD YOU THEY WOULDN'T LIKE THE SONG OH MY GOODNESS YOU'RE GONNA GET US KICKED OFF YOU'D BEST BE HAPPY GIRLS LIKE YOU BUT-"
"Shh. Quiet. You're disturbing my meditation."
MacKenzie turns away from the TV screen. He stalks over to Dalton, who was sitting criss cross on the floor. Opening one eye, Dalton looks up at MacKenzie.
"Yes?" He smirks. He could see the fury in MacKenzie's eyes. MacKenzie clenches his fists and walks away, muttering.
"Dalton can be so infuriating at times. How could he be calm at a time like this? I mean, we just got microwaved! Er...burned, I guess. I'm not sure what the kids say these days."
MacKenzie turns off the TV and collapses on the hotel bed. It was a nice hotel room; the color scheme was blue, black, and yellow. There were two beds, of course, and one was blue and the other black.

You can tell who chose which.

There is a ginormous window on the opposite side of the door. It has an amazing sky view of Hollywood. Dalton has a strange habit of fogging up the glass and drawing smiley faces. Seriously. There are smudge marks of smiley faces everywhere on the window. It probably makes the hotel maids very angry. They probably hate the guys by now as MacKenzie leaves his guitar picks everywhere and Dalton smudges eyeliner all over the mirror.

Meanwhile, Dalton is still "meditating." MacKenzie walks over to him again and crouches down in front of him. Dalton senses his presence and opens his eyes. He is met by the angry brown eyes of MacKenzie. Or MacKencheese as Dalton likes to call him. MacKenzie is not very fond of that nickname.
"Hello, MacKencheese. Why so angry? You should meditate." Dalton says before closing his eyes again.
"Uh, no." MacKenzie says, and opens Dalton's eyes with his fingertips. "You cannot just 'meditate.' That was the worst performance of my life! And maybe even yours! You're on the verge of getting kicked off! I'm just hanging off the edge! What am I supposed to do?!"
"MacKencheese, you just gotta go with the flow. You know, everyone's got a story..." Dalton smirks. MacKenzie blushes as Dalton references his song. MacKenzie looks at the floor, studying the carpet.
"You've...you've heard my song?" MacKenzie says after a few seconds.
"Sure, man, you're good." MacKenzie looks back up at Dalton, grinning from the compliment. He suddenly remembers why he came over to Dalton in the first place. His smile dissolves as he remembers the fail of the duet. Dalton notices the angry glare return to MacKenzie's eyes and slowly stands up. MacKenzie doesn't acknowledge Dalton leaving the room, as he has walked away and was glaring out the window.

Dalton hurries down the hallway. If there's one thing that calms MacKenzie down, it's a brand new box of guitar picks. And, well, MacKenzie knows how precious Dalton's eyeliner is to him and...eyeliner pencils can snap in half. Dalton might need a new one of those too. So Dalton rushes to the nearest guitar store and buys a brand new pack of sparkly purple guitar picks. Hey, MacKenzie might like purple, you just never know. After buying two black eyeliner pencils from a lady at Ulta, who was about to pass out (from Dalton or dehydration...?), he went back to the hotel room.

What a sight.

MacKenzie had broken one eyeliner pencil (phew- only one), made a ton more smiley face smudges with the eyes mysteriously X's, and seemed to have used guitar picks as confetti because man, they were everywhere.
"MacKenzie...?" Dalton said cautiously, treading lightly on the picks. After searching, he found MacKenzie curled up in a ball under his bed, headphones in his ears. He seemed to have been crying. When MacKenzie saw Dalton's icy blue eyes peek under the bed, he was relieved. Dalton hadn't requested a room change after all. Because, as MacKenzie grudgingly admitted, he was kinda cool. MacKenzie crawls out from under the bed and covers his face with a pillow. Dalton sits on the end of the bed and watches MacKenzie.

After a good five minutes, MacKenzie looks up from the pillow at Dalton.
"Sorry..." He manages.
"For...?" Dalton smirks.
"Aw, c'mon...for being mean..." MacKenzie continues, a smile playing on his lips.
"And...?" Dalton replies, continuing to smirk.
"The eyeliner..." MacKenzie finishes, punching Dalton lightly on the arm.
"Thanks." Dalton replies. MacKenzie smiles and begins to clean up the picks.

"You know..." MacKenzie begins, "The performance wasn't that bad..."
"Yeah, it wasn't. Anyways, if we think it was good, then it was good."
"Uh, Dalton, I'm not sure that's how it works."
"Sure it is, MacKencheese. Sure it is."