The room was hot as the scent of rough and heavy sex hung in the air.

"Fuck man," Tyler rolled over onto his side and took a swig from the bottle of whiskey sitting on the nightstand. He wiped his mouth and grinned brightly. "That was...fuck."

Gabe said nothing as he hovered above the bed, hands digging into the sheets to keep himself suspended. Like fuck he was going to lie down in Tyler's white-hot pleasure from a moment ago.

It was late and the hotel room stunk of sweat and alcohol. Piled on top of what he and Tyler had just done, it was just an average day at work.

"I'm taking a shower." Gabe stated, rolling off the bed in one slick movement before padding towards the bathroom.

"Whatever man," Tyler replied carelessly, already frowning at something on his phone screen as he lay in the sheets. Gabe was nothing more to him than a fleeting moment of attention. That's all any of them were.

It wasn't as though Gabe minded. If anything, he preferred it that way. The day he became anything more to these boys than a quick fuck was the day he was gone.

Still covered in their adventurous sin, Gabe started the shower in the bathroom. Not bothering to turn on the hot water, he stepped under the spray and let it wash away the sweat and grime on his toned body.

He didn't go near the bar of soap on the ledge, fearing the places it had entertained on the naked rockstar in the bedroom, and simply lathered himself in the lotion provided by the hotel before washing it all off and stepping out.

He towelled himself dry and wandered back out into the room in search of his discarded jeans. It was a routine he had perfected months ago.

Slipping on his shirt, Gabe didn't bother to say goodbye to Tyler as he stepped out of the hotel room and into the hallway. Sniffing his jacket lightly, Gabe cringed at the scent of stale cologne on the material. Rockstars had too much fucking ego.

Making his way to the elevator, the doors opened and Gabe came face to face with Jordan. The smaller boy was grinning, eyes glazed over.

"Gabe?" he asked, startled. "I didn't know you were working tonight."

Gabe stepped into the elevator and stood beside Jordan. "I got called in."

The smaller boy was alight with energy. He hummed to himself happily and Gabe groaned. "Nate?"

"Yep." Jordan said, smacking the letters together as he spoke. "Fuck, it was incredible! That boy knows how to do things with his tongue."

Gabe outwardly cringed and rolled his eyes, looking away.

Jordan stepped forward to push a button but stumbled and fell against the elevator wall, grinning like he didn't just make a fool of himself.

"Oops," he giggled. "Guess I got pounded in more ways than one tonight."

Gabe's eyes widened as he turned to face Jordan for the first time. He turned the other boy to him, Jordan still giggling as he attempted to regain his balance.

"Fuck." Gabe cursed. "You're high."

And he was. Jordan's eyes were rimmed red and he was in a dazed state. His smile was crooked and loose as words tumbled from his mouth at altering speeds.

"No I'm not." Jordan slurred. "I feel so down, man. Like, fuck, I didn't even know a person could bend that way." He giggled again, tripping over his feet as he stumbled.

Gabe caught him around the waist and held him up. The elevator doors opened. Gabe was grateful that the hotel lobby was deserted.

"C'mon." He pulled Jordan against him and hooked an arm around his waist, putting Jordan's arm around his shoulders. "We have to get you to the bus."

It was a difficult task. Jordan was slipping from reality with each passing minute, making it harder for Gabe to get him to focus on walking. A string of phrases were running from his mouth about Nate, each detail dirtier then the next. Gabe cursed under his breath.

He flagged down a cab and shoved Jordan inside, climbing in after him. The driver flicked them a concerned look but Gabe scowled and told him to fuck off.

The crew had been allowed to keep the bus parked at the stadium for the night so the cab dropped them off at the curb. Gabe thrust a handful of bills at the driver before dragging Jordan out. By the time they reached the bus, Gabe was virtually carrying the smaller boy.

"Drew! Ryan!" Gabe shouted as he attempted to open the door and hold Jordan up at the same time. "Fuck."

The door opened and a shirtless Drew, standing in pyjama bottoms, eyes widened as he stared down at the pair. "What happened?"

"Nate got him high." Gabe replied, pulling Jordan up against him as the boy's muscles were basically liquid at this point. "Found him at the hotel."

Gabe's yelling had caused the other bus' doors to open and heads poked out, staring at the group with curious looks. "Everything okay?" Kevin, a younger and naive roadie, asked in concern.

"Does this look like a fucking sitcom? Get your ass back inside!" Gabe shouted across the lot at them. "And tell Mark that Jordan's not coming in tomorrow."

Kevin squeaked in surprise and immediately closed the door again. The other roadies followed in pursuit, too scared to argue with the older boys. Gabe groaned. God, they were so naive.

"Help me get him inside." Gabe demanded.

Drew didn't waste a second. Coming down the steps, he curled an arm around his friend's waist and together he and Gabe hauled Jordan up into the bus and sat him down on the sofa.

"Fuck man, how did this happen?" Drew asked, exhaustion in his tone.

"You know damn well how it happened." Gabe snapped. "Don't be so obtuse."

"What's going on?"

Ryan appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes before they landed on Jordan, who was still babbling on about Nate's tongue. He gasped and ran over. "What happened!"

"Nate happened." Drew sighed. "Though I can't say I'm surprised. It's Jordan after all."

They may have been the older roadies, but even then they could succumb to the band's mutinous ways. Drug use was nothing abnormal for The Seventh Affliction. Gabe had watched Nate shoot up before a show once and then been offered heroine on his first night with Tyler.

If Gabe so desired, he could've had them arrested immediately but the band wasn't stupid. They picked their moments and Mark kept it all under wraps. Anything they were provided was from superior drug dealers who knew the business and their market all too well.

Not to mention, the roadies had signed a contract not to reveal anything to the media that could incriminate the band or their management. They wouldn't be able to anyway, not with all the times they had shared in such experiences. Just yesterday one of the younger boys had come back smelling like a crackhouse.

It was a risk. Taking drugs always was. But Mark provided the best for his boys and if anything got out or became scandalous, drastic measures were taken. Gabe had heard a rumour that a few years before his arrival a boy had developed an addiction and Mark had gotten rid of him.

No one knew what had happened and how. Gabe didn't believe it was a rumour. No one did. They just learnt to keep their mouths shut.

"What did he take?" Ryan asked.

"Nothing major. Nate and Tyler were sharing a joint this morning. It couldn't be anything worse than weed."

"Christ." Drew muttered. "Imagine if they had any crack left over from a two weeks ago. Jordan's a lightweight."

"Jordan's a fucking idiot." Gabe growled, slapping a palm over his face in annoyance. "Why would he take it?"

"Nate's an enabler." Drew shrugged. "They all are. It's a fucking miracle they're even alive."

If the band had any experience with overdoses and addiction, nothing would ever escape the confinement of the roadies' contract to see the light of day in the media.

Gabe ran a hand over his face, frustrated and tired. "Just help me get him into bed."

Without a word, Drew and Ryan came over and together, they proceeded to strip a giggling Jordan down to his boxers. Drew cleaned his chest and torso with a damp towel as Jordan had never got the opportunity to shower after his night with Nate.

"He's going to be out all tomorrow." Gabe said once they had put Jordan in his bunk. The three stood back, watching Jordan as he rattled on about nothing, slowly slipping into a sleep state.

"We're leaving for Columbus tomorrow. At least the trucks were packed two nights ago. He has the day to sleep it off."

"One less idiot to deal with."

Drew and Ryan flicked Gabe a look but said nothing. They were used to his pessimistic, non-caring attitude.

Exhausted and fed-up with the band's wild antics imposing on his life, Gabe said nothing more and turned towards his own bunk.

"What's this about you being the new drum technician?"

Gabe spun around, eyeing Drew with an annoyed look. "What's it to you?"

"Other than my job? You've never had a permanent position before."

"It wasn't by choice."

"Who's forcing you?"

"Who else?"

It wasn't a question. Drew said, "Mark's got balls hiring you for such a role."

Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. "Meaning?"

"You hate working closely with the band." Ryan interjected. "Sleeping with them is all you can tolerate."

"Bold of you to assume I tolerate even that."

"Gabe."

Gabe huffed in annoyance. "Harley requested it."

"Stone?" Ryan asked, shocked.

Gabe scowled at him. "No. Harley Quinn. Yes, of course Harley Stone! Who else?"

Drew raised an eyebrow. "That's...different."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Gabe asked.

Ryan shrugged. "He doesn't really talk to anyone. I'm surprised he requested a particular person for his job."

"Fuck if I know what goes through that guy's head. He speaks so vaguely all the time."

"Wait, you've spoken to him?"

Gabe responded to their shocked expressions with irritation, "Yes, I've spoken to him. Unfortunately."

"Woah man," Ryan breathed. "What's he like?"

"A person?"

"No," Drew scoffed. "What's he like?"

Gabe blinked at them.

Ryan huffed. "He's so mysterious, dude. What's it like talking to him? No one ever speaks about him."

"He's...odd." Gabe said honestly. He didn't care enough to discuss his personal impression of Harley but Drew and Ryan's expressions weren't letting up. "He's just kind of...distant, I guess."

"That's an understatement." Drew scoffed. "People barely see him. His rise is always darkened on stage during shows."

"That's true." Ryan nodded in agreement. "It's as if he doesn't want to be seen."

During shows, Gabe normally busied himself sidestage by ensuring all the equipment was in place or communicating between the other roadies. It was rare he actually watched the show and when he did, he didn't focus on a particular bandmate. Gabe couldn't recall a single detail about Harley's stage persona that one would find interesting.

"So Mark's got you working as his technician then." Drew concluded. "Wow. That's new."

"It's hardly a change." Gabe scowled. "I've monitored levels before and set up the kit. I'll just be focusing on that during shows now."

Both Drew and Ryan stared at Gabe, dumbfounded. Gabe asked, "What?"

"You've set up his kit before?"

"Yes?"

The pair exchanged a look between them and Gabe frowned. "What?"

"It's just," Ryan slowly glanced back at him. "No one's touched Harley's drum kit before."

"What? That's ridiculous. It has to be set up. Who else would-"

He trailed off. For the life of him, Gabe suddenly couldn't remember a single time he'd ever seen the drum kit be set up or packed away on stage. It was always just there, as if it appeared out of thin air. Drew and Ryan stared at him which only confirmed his answer.

"That's..." Gabe started.

"New." Drew finished for him. "Do you get what we mean now?"

"I'll be honest, I wasn't really listening to you the whole time."

Drew rolled his eyes. "You're the only one who's set up the kit before. You're the only one who's spoken to Harley before."

"Bullshit," Gabe scoffed. "People talk to him all the time."

"Then you're the only one he's listened to."

That struck Gabe at a loss for words. It didn't last long.

"How would you even know?" Gabe demanded. "It's not like you were there, and it's not like you've spoken to him before."

Drew only stared at him and Gabe said, "Oh."

Ryan and Drew exhanged another look as a moment of silence passed between them. Gabe wasn't having any of it.

Exhausted and fed-up with this conversation, he turned towards his bunk again. "Okay, now that that's over with, I'm going to sleep. Disturb me and I'll shove your testicles down your throat."

"Graphic," Ryan cringed. "But I'm sure that's what sex with you must be like."

Gabe ignored the comment as Drew snickered. He walked to the back of the bus and changed into a fresh pair of boxers in the bathroom before returning to his bunk. Climbing in, he shut the curtains forcefully, earning another annoying laugh from Drew.

Gabe didn't care what they said. Even if his new position was out of the ordinary, it didn't mean shit about anything. He was a roadie, this was his job. When he had convinced himself of that fact, he went to sleep.

It was two o'clock in the morning before that happened. 

***

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