Black hair flew around in the wind that was coming through the camp bus window. Jimmy Sullivan didn't want to be on that bus. He didn't want to go to band camp. Just because he played the drums, didn't mean his stupid parent's could send him off to some stupid camp for the entire summer. As far as he was concerned, band camp was for nerds. And he was not and nerd. He sat there and grumbled endlessly about how he didn't want to be on the dreaded bus. He twitched and wiggled his fingers, wishing that time would just go by faster. The sooner that he got there - the sooner he could get the fuck away and be by himself. Away from all the stupid people he was sure were at this camp.
On the other side of the bus, Mikey squirmed uncomfortably in the hard brown bus seat. Germs always being his weakness, he sat and silently prayed that camp wouldn't be as outdoorsy as everyone thought it to be. In the packet that he had gotten; it said that the cabin's were clean and tidy and there was a 'fresh' lake around the camp site. By the look of the muddy, grimy lake that was so clear in the packet, he knew he wouldn't be swimming in that anytime soon. He looked around the bus with half lidded eyes, no one catching his attention. Soon enough, he just pulled his scrawny legs up to his chest and turned the volume up; Iron Maiden blaring so loud that the boys next to him could hear. He stayed like that the entire way through the dust and decay.
The boys soon enough got to their camp destination, Jimmy hopping up out of the dirty blue seat as fast as he could and nearly pushing and sprinting his way out the door and into the fresh air. Everything didn't look as bad as he thought it would. Surrounding him were dozens of kids with instruments, waiting to be directed. The lake looked glossy and somewhat clean - clean enough for Jimmy to at least go swim in. Of course, he didn't need to bring a huge case for his instruments. All he needed was a pair of drumsticks (which he had in his back pocket) and he was set to go. He went up to a camp counselor and got his cabin number, taking his two bags and his drumsticks to his cabin. He had a roommate named Micheal Way. He shrugged, setting his stuff down on the bed. He looked around outside the window and seen a lanky bow walking quickly towards the cabin. So this must be Micheal.. he thought to himself, biting down on his lip. He was carrying a bass guitar and a amp. Jimmy smiled to himself. Maybe I won't be in a cabin with a total fucking loser.
The brunette boy walked into the cabin and didn't notice Jimmy standing by the window. He was dressed in a Guns 'N' Roses shirt and blue skinny jeans, headphones in his ears. The boy sang along quietly, putting his bass down on the bed. Jimmy sat down on his bed, watching Micheal until he finally noticed him - and screamed in surprise.
"Holy fuck! When did you -" He pulled his headphones out of his ears.
"I've been here the entire time." He spoke lowly and full of lisp, his voice harmonized with amusement.
"Oh.. well, damn. Are you James?" He asked, looking down at his schedule.
"Oh, I'm Michael. But you can call me Mikey, if you'd like."