Bob... Likes Frank...? Frank... Likes bob...? You're mad. Thank goodness, because if I wasn't this would probably never work.
It had been a while since Bob actually looked up at the beautiful night sky.
His red-shadowed eyes diverted from the stars and down over the balcony. He saw a girl, with a black hoodie, and black pants crawl over a garbage can in an alley. The garbage can knocked over and its contents spilled over the dirty pavement below.
"Shit," The girl muttered, looking at her mess. She turned back around and walked out of the alley and into the front door of the hotel.
Bob thought nothing more, and threw his cigarette down to the smooth pavement below, crushing it under his shoe.
There was a big show tomorrow, so he figured he should go to bed.
He turned around to head into the hotel room he shared with an annoying Frank Iero, and turned the handle.
The door creaked open and Bob stepped inside.
A tired yawn escaping his mouth, he suddenly became extremely sleepy.
He walked in and went for one of the nice, cozy, warm beds.
But, he tripped over Frank's guitar.
Why Frank's guitar was in the middle of the floor in the first place was beyond him.
Frank, due to all the racket taking place in the room, awoke.
"Bob? What the hell?" Frank said, looking over at Bob clutching his shin on the floor.
"Why the hell was your fucking guitar in the middle of the God damned floor anyway?" Bob cursed, looking over to Frank.
"Well, I was tired, and lazy," Frank started.
"Don't finish, I get the point." Bob said, getting up and limping the rest of the way back to the bed.
He laid down and shoved off his boots, taking his time with his jacket.
Bob laid his head back on the pillow and smiled to himself, sighing deeply in relief.
"...Bob? Who's your favorite Little Rascal?" Frank's voice rose from the silence.
"Good for you, now go to sleep." Bob commented, and rolled over so his back was facing Frank.
"Boxers or briefs?"
"Boxers, now go to bed!"
"Bob...?" Frank's voice rose again.
"WHAT?!" Bob roared.
"I'm scared." Frank whimpered.
"Of what?" bob sighed.
"The outside, and dark." Frank whined.
"Well, I don't know what to do about it." Bob said, trying to go to sleep.
Frank kept whining...
"Damnit, I can't believe I'm actually doing this." Bob muttered, flinging the covers off the bed and over to Frank's. He crawled under the covers and got situated.
"What. Now?" Bob asked.
"You didn't have to do that."