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Post by DEVON T. MANNING on Jan 18, 2010 0:55:44 GMT -5
It was a known fact that Devon didn't care who was on their bus as long as they weren't some weird terrorist. In fact, she considered most of the members of the other bands family. And she treated them like that too. Because if you're sweet no-one can hate you. Its law. Written in stone and all. Devon laid back on what she called her bed, closing her eyes. Not to nap. More to reflect. Which wasn't totally necessary. Devon thought plenty, sometimes too much. Devon lived in a shadow in the past. Her head was in cloud, in the past. Honestly? It sucked.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes, sighing as she picked up her guitar. Devon wasn't the best guitarist, but she was still good. Besides-if she wanted to learn any fancy guitar work she could just ask Parker. Parker! Devon's eyes flew to the clock, It was like, 9. Which meant he would probably wake up soon. He was a guy, and all guys liked to sleep in right? Well, she couldn't blame him. Devon liked to sleep in too. But she woke up early this morning. Hm.
Devon looked around the seemingly empty bus, trying to find flaws she could fix. As practice. For facing Parker, or anyone else. She set the guitar on her bed and stood up, starting to put things back into place. She hummed, putting dirty dishes in the washer. Dirty clothes in a laundry bin. Trash in a trashcan. It had always been like this, especially now, that putting things in place made Devon feel better. She could fix things, too.
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