Just What I Needed

Just What I Needed (44)

Boston, Massachusetts.

“Keely!”

“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered before raising her voice, “I'm coming!”

Marco poked his head into the closet that she was using as a changing room. “Seriously, we have to go, the bus is literally leaving.”

“I know, I know,” Keely mumbled, stuffing her things into her bag and grabbing her plain guitar case from the corner of the room. Wincing she caught sight of the sweater she left in the corner and lunged towards it, shoving it into her bag hastily.

“Keely,” whined Marco from the door way, “Let's go. Do you like being late?”

Shaking her head she shoved past him, just avoiding swinging the case into his stomach as she pulled her bag over her shoulder. “I never mean to be late.”

“No, it's just a happy coincidence,” he chuckled before prodding her in the back, ordering, “Run!”

Incredulously she swivelled around to look at him. “What?”

“Run,” Marco repeated, jabbing her in the back again. “Unless you want to get left here, I wasn't joking when I said that the bus was leaving.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but all the same broke into a sprint, moving through the labyrinth of halls that would lead her to the back of the stadium and to the tour bus. Her legs eating up the ground quickly, Keely streaked around a corner, bumping her shoulder with the bag into the wall – thankfully not the guitar – as she dodged around a person.

When said person gave her a wide eyed look she couldn't help but burst out laughing at their expression, although she didn't stop running, hearing Marco's loud footsteps chasing her down the corridors. They raced past a few danglers in the halls, making her laughter ring out through the echoing halls. And with Marco shouting directions from where he ran behind her, in five minutes they had gotten to the doors and her breath was clogging in her throat.

“Man,” she complained, pressing against the heavy steel door that opened obligingly to the brisk night air.

Smirking, Marco said, “You're out of shape.”

Keely just arched an eyebrow in his direction, taking in his heaving chest. “Well, you're not quite a fitness buff either, buddy.”

“Are you calling me fat?” he exclaimed, putting a falsetto on his voice as he pressed a hand to his stomach.

Laughing loudly, she just hooked an arm around his shoulders, having to stand on her tip toes and drag him over slightly to do so, as she pulled him to where the bus was waiting. The engine was on, apparently Marco wasn't lying about it leaving.

“Am I calling you, the skinny little blonde boy, fat?” she chuckled, “Of course.”

“Well you don't have to be so harsh about it,” he answered, wiping away a mock tear.

Shaking her head, Keely shoved him away. By this point she was sure his antics shouldn't make her laugh anymore, but she doubted that it would ever happen.

Shoving him away from her so she could pull herself up the steps of the bus, she couldn't help but be grateful for the blast of heat that met her. At least if they were late then the heat would be on high by then, it was becoming quite cold in the northern states. “I could say the same to you,” she called, sending him a cheeky smile over her shoulder.

Turning around to see her path, since she wasn't notoriously graceful, Keely spun around on her heel. Not realizing at that point that she hadn't stepped up the forth step, and immediately her heel caught on said step, sending her forward with a squeal rushing from her mouth towards the false, yet very shiny, hardwood floor.