Part 4 (For parts 1 - 3 Check Archives)
"I really enjoyed our conversation tonight, but I should probably go home and get some sleep."
Bob smiled, and said, "that's a good idea, I'm pretty tired myself. Plus, who knows which band mate I'll have to keep out of jail tonight."
Leigh smiled and leaned to give Bob a short kiss on the lips. "Here is my phone number, but I will understand if you are too busy with the whole rock star thing to call me," she said with a jokingly sarcastic tone.
"Yea, you know, I am pretty famous." Bob said with a smirk on his face. Both broke out in laughter as they embraced. "I will call you Leigh," Bob said into her ear.
"I know you will. I'll talk to you later."
Bob then turned to Cory, who was making out with groupie number five. "Lets go Cory! We have to be on the bus at 7a.m. so we can make our show tomorrow. He got all the band members and their attached groupies into the limo, and up to their respective hotel rooms. Bob immediately got his backpack out of the closet and opened it. Inside was a cigar box of all his truly treasured things. He put Leigh's number in as he began looking at the other items. There was a picture of his red 1967 Mustang without an engine. It had no engine, because Bob took out the old one to put a new supped up five liter in, but never got around to it. Under that was the receipt to his 1974 vintage Fender Stratocastor guitar. This guitar was attached to his hands while growing up, so it is the reason he was so talented. Finally, there was his acceptance letter to Harvard University. Bob Thompson, a.k.a. Nails, got into the most prestigious university in the country, despite being drunk since he was sixteen.
Ever since he had a nail removed from his foot, Bob wanted to be a doctor. He read medical journals and listened to classical music during the bus rides to wherever he would turn into Nails. Bob wanted to settle down and start a family. None of the band members knew these things about Nails. Sure, millions of dollars, tons of groupies, and ever lasting fame sounded great to most people, but it could get old. For Bob, it was.
The next morning, Brad stumbles onto the bus holding a cup of coffee. He sees that all the other band members had retired to their bunks and had gone back to sleep. Being the lead singer of a band meant some extra responsibility, specifically morning radio show interviews. Still way too drunk to talk coherently, Brad headed to the computer in the back of the bus to print out some information to use in the interview.
"Who the hell used up all of the printer paper?" Brad yelled, not expecting a response. When he turned on the monitor, the University of Harvard website was up. "Some drunk ass think he is going to Harvard or something?" He mumbled, and laughed as he gave up on the information he needed and passed out on the couch.
