Post by orinocoflow on Nov 22, 2010 23:39:14 GMT -5
i saw a picture of keith wearing a pink shirt and decided to write this
Looking around, Keith made sure that there was no one nearby before silently unlocking the door to Paul’s and Damien’s bus and slipping inside. Without so much as a hesitation, he walked straight towards the tenor’s bunk and pulled out the suitcase that was underneath. Unzipping it quickly, he ruffled through the clothes until he found what he was looking for. Glancing around again, he zipped it up again and shoved it back under. Bunching up what he had found in his hand, he turned around…
…and jumped back with a yelp.
“Damien! You scared me!” he gasped, holding the hand with the incriminating evidence behind his back and slapping the other across his chest. But the teenager was not so easily fooled; in fact, his eyes seemed to glow with excitement.
“What did you take from his bag?” he asked, trying to see around Keith’s back.
“Just...something. Don’t tell him, okay? Please?”
Damien nodded eagerly. “Okay. But at least let me see it!”
Keith hesitated, but then showed him what was in his hand. Damien grinned evilly and looked up at the blond, his eyes bright with mischief.
“Hey, Damo? Have you seen my pink polo shirt?” asked Paul, looking through his bag. “I can't find it anywhere.”
“No,” replied Damien innocently, keeping his back to his bus-mate so that he would not see the smile splashed across his face.
“Huh,” Paul muttered, frowning. “I could’ve sworn…”
Once outside, the two of them went over to the fans gathered by the railing awaiting autographs and complied, signing what they were offered as fast as they could, and even posed for a few pictures. Suddenly a scream erupted from the group as they all ran away from the two lads towards…Keith, apparently.
But Paul was not looking at his blond friend, nor at the rapidly-disappearing fans. No, he was focused on the pink polo shirt the surfer was wearing that looked suspiciously all too familiar. Leaving Damien behind, he walked over to Keith, his gaze unwavering.
Keith was smiling at a camera beside another fan when he caught Paul’s stare out of the corner of his eye. Immediately, his smile vanished and he took an uncertain step backwards.
“Well, I really gotta go now; thanks for everything! I hope you liked the show,” he called, retreating step by step. But as soon as he saw the tenor again, he turned on his heel and sprinted away, back towards the building where he knew Sharon was still sorting through everything inside of.
He never made it inside.
THE END
Looking around, Keith made sure that there was no one nearby before silently unlocking the door to Paul’s and Damien’s bus and slipping inside. Without so much as a hesitation, he walked straight towards the tenor’s bunk and pulled out the suitcase that was underneath. Unzipping it quickly, he ruffled through the clothes until he found what he was looking for. Glancing around again, he zipped it up again and shoved it back under. Bunching up what he had found in his hand, he turned around…
…and jumped back with a yelp.
“Damien! You scared me!” he gasped, holding the hand with the incriminating evidence behind his back and slapping the other across his chest. But the teenager was not so easily fooled; in fact, his eyes seemed to glow with excitement.
“What did you take from his bag?” he asked, trying to see around Keith’s back.
“Just...something. Don’t tell him, okay? Please?”
Damien nodded eagerly. “Okay. But at least let me see it!”
Keith hesitated, but then showed him what was in his hand. Damien grinned evilly and looked up at the blond, his eyes bright with mischief.
* * *
“Hey, Damo? Have you seen my pink polo shirt?” asked Paul, looking through his bag. “I can't find it anywhere.”
“No,” replied Damien innocently, keeping his back to his bus-mate so that he would not see the smile splashed across his face.
“Huh,” Paul muttered, frowning. “I could’ve sworn…”
Once outside, the two of them went over to the fans gathered by the railing awaiting autographs and complied, signing what they were offered as fast as they could, and even posed for a few pictures. Suddenly a scream erupted from the group as they all ran away from the two lads towards…Keith, apparently.
But Paul was not looking at his blond friend, nor at the rapidly-disappearing fans. No, he was focused on the pink polo shirt the surfer was wearing that looked suspiciously all too familiar. Leaving Damien behind, he walked over to Keith, his gaze unwavering.
Keith was smiling at a camera beside another fan when he caught Paul’s stare out of the corner of his eye. Immediately, his smile vanished and he took an uncertain step backwards.
“Well, I really gotta go now; thanks for everything! I hope you liked the show,” he called, retreating step by step. But as soon as he saw the tenor again, he turned on his heel and sprinted away, back towards the building where he knew Sharon was still sorting through everything inside of.
He never made it inside.
THE END