Greg laid deep in dream in his bottom bunk bed, dreams concerning cat eyes and beautiful smiles. Chris and Matt were surprisingly up at the early hour of 9, laggardly munching away on Corn Pops as discussions of yesterday's signing sputtering to the table.

"That girl with the thong yesterday..." Matt began quietly, swirling his spoon around his cereal as melodious tunes of blue jays filtrated through the bus.

"Celeste," Chris finished, his voice drowning in milk, yawning involuntarily and scratching his back with the agility of a true gymnast.

"Yeah," Matt responded, scooping up some Corn Pops, "She was hott."

"You're telling me," Chris replied with a smirk, a drop of milk streaming from his poudy lips back into the comfort of the cereal bowl. Chris glanced around the disheveled bus, clothes thrown every which way, shoes hazardous obstacles spewed across the floor, yet no Louie and Brian to harass them about keeping their home away from home tidy. "Where's Lou and Brian?"

"I think they went to the hardware store," Matt responded casually, swatting a mosquito from soaring dangerously close to his pale skin. "The crew lost a few bolts needed for our set or something."

A few honks flew through the back of the bus to the front as fast as clashes of thunder in lightless night, Matt and Chris's ears perking up like puppies expecting treats for good behavior. "That must be them," Chris presumed as they headed cautiously over the mini-obstacle course for the door, cereal bowls in hand, breaking out into the sun crawling over grey clouds to welcome was summer days should be about, sun, beahhes and girls. Still scantily filling their boxers and wifebeaters, they expected Louie and Brian to hop out of the sound director's white van with even whiter smiles, not...

"Good morning, boys!" Celeste yelled out of the driver's side window, the beat of Sheryl Crow's "Every Day Is a Winding Road" permeating the tranquil morning air, having to wake up every living thing in the vicinity unless they were unconcious. Two smiling faces and one belonging to a disgruntled old woman peered back at them as the RV arrived at a noisy halt.

"It's the thong girl!" Matt exclaimed in disbelief, his mouth falling to the gritty bottom of the lot and Chris approached the RV's door.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Chris saluted Matt as he flung open the door, the four girls strolling down the stairs like it was a cat walk, Ashley feeling a little self-concious in her pink piggy tank top and shorts sleep set, hiding herself behind crossed arms. "To what do we owe this...pleasure?" Chris asked with a Casanova smile, leaning against the ajared door and oggling the girls in their negliges. The girls couldn't argue, even the "Miss Know-It-All" Taryn, that they didn't enjoy this little peep show.

"If you'd get your eyes out of my cleavage," Celeste snapped at him, slapping him with a verbal assault, draping her blue robe over her silky black tank top and pants sleepset, undergoing exposed uneasiness at Chris's hidden, secret fowardness. "We'd tell you."

"Guess it's too early for you girls," Chris surmised with a shrug, Celeste's body stiffening at his ignorance.

"Anywaaaaay," Jessa cut in, taking a step out into the vacant parking lot, the scant sunlight raining over her in a shower of gold, finally swallowing well-chewed bits of Goldfish down her throat, "That's Taryn, Ashley, you've...met Celeste, and I'm Jessa." She spun in a circle as her tied-back hair whipped through the air and turned back to Matt and Chris, curious intrigue snagging their eyes, Jessa taking spotlight like a gossip columnist. "Here's our plan. We wanted to take a trip around the US for years now, before out dearest friend Taryn..." Taryn conjured a fake smile and wave to Chris and Matt and Jessa continued, "leaves us for college. So, I figured, why not see the sights and see Ashley and Celeste's fav. band, something that they've never done and we wouldn't mind experiencing, all in one shot?"

"So...this is your RV?" Matt assumed, rubbing his thumb and index finger against his chin imitating an intellect as his eyes examined the rickety RV shimmering in the early morning rays.

"Our chariot," Ashley responded dreamily, grazing her pudgy fingers along the smooth edge of the doorframe.

"Eating on the run or something?" Taryn asked randomly and snootly, supporting herself against the tin can of a vehicle and sifting a cigarette out of her dwindling pack of Cambridge's, notioning toward the soggy cereal bobbing in their bowls.

"No," Matt responded, dropping his thoughts from his brain in Taryn's mystic clouds of brown eyes, "We...well, our managers...Yeah, they went..."

"Would you ladies like to join us for the remainder of breakfast?" Chris asked polietly, offering his arms to Celeste and Jessa with slight arrogance visable, covering his bare arms in a fine white mist commonly mistaken for morning dew. Taryn put out her lit cigarette in defeat and annoyance against the sole of her black and pink plush slippers, grinding the cig until thin smoke remained, tucking her pack back into her red zebra-print pajama bottoms.

"I'd love to," Jessa responded sweetly, looping her arm through his as Celeste stormed foward, her perfect curls bouncing fiercely behind her. Chris just shrugged as they ambled in the shadow of the bus, Matt and Taryn lagging behind, the striking of conversation distracting them in the task of walking......

"Are you sure this is OK?" Ashley asked timidly as Matt and Chris went venturing through the cabinets on the right for clean bowls, feeling immediately uncomfortable on the bus of her ultimate favorite band within her first step.

"Of course," Chris responded well assured, grabbing 4 styrofoam bowls from the cabinet. "Well, I can't say that this has happened before, but Louie and Brian, our managers, trust us."

"You mean trust me, don't you?" Matt corrected him, scuffling the gallon container of milk from the small refridgerator, a wry smile grabbing the corner of his mouth, the girls giggling in return. As Chris and Matt reverted to the crowded kitchen table, Jesse litterally rolled out of bed, a dense thump initiating all parties at the table to rotate toward Jesse. Jesse peered up at them, still caught between the tattered shield of dream and reality, his eyes blinking excessively to focus his view.

"What an entrance you make, Jesse," Chris congradulated Jesse, flinging a Corn Pop toward his head.

"I better be...dreaming because this...can't be happening," Jesse told them groggerly, slumber delaying his voice a few seconds like time delays a strained, old computer, taking in the scandalous situation.

"We're real, baby," Jessa assured him, smiling slightly, pouring herself a heafty helping of Lucky Charms.

"Jesse," Chris began, rising from the table like a good host, "Meet Jessa, Ashley, Taryn and Celeste."

"Hi," the girls said in unexpected unison, peering at each other, and spilling into laughter.

"Well, then," Jesse stared self-conscienciously, a possible mortifying thought triggering off in his head, peering down at the purple Barney T-Shirt Timmy gave Jesse out of the kindness off his misguided heart for his last birthday that was two sizes too big. "I better change out of this before I get any more embarassed."

As he retreated to the tiny bathroom, Taryn threw at him, "Aww Jess, but purple is so your color."

Jesse forced a laugh as he locked himself into the bathroom, the crew digging into the delicious, fancy morning delacacies. "Are our two Italians sleeping?" Celeste asked on behalf of Jessa, leaning foward to pour herself some OJ.

"Of course," Matt replied, scurrying to the sink and dropping his milk-soaken cereal into the clutter of unwashed utensils and plates, a clang discharging into their ears like those belonging to cymbals, moss seeming to fester on them every passing day and Dream Street member.

"Practice isn't until noon," Chris announced, stretching upward to reveal an inch of exposed tan stomach, "So they won't be up until 11:55."

"Speak for yourself," the girls heard a voice reply behind a maroon curtain, Frankie stumbling out of a bed on the left toward the breakfast party, his hands mechanically rubbing at his eyes like windshield wipers as he stumbled into the table, a few laughs tumbling from the girls' mouths.

"Morning Sunshine," Chris smiled, offering him some Corn Pops. Frankie glared at Chris in response, his hands fastened to his hips, silently scolding him for disturbing him from his sleep, sleep rarely fully executed in the ennui of tiring activities, even if it was 9:15 and farmers all over the country had been up since the brink of dawn trudging through daily chores.

Frankie softened and declined, staring at the girls like they were aliens, sleep still pushing down rigidly on his eyelids. "Normally I wouldn't question why pretty girls are eating breakfast on our bus, but who are they?"

"They are girls from the concert at Jones' Beach and the signing from yesterday," Matt gushed in one breath, snatching relief on the barron and black couch across from the table, swiping his hand through his fair hair and pointing them out, "That's Jessa, Ashley, Taryn and Celeste."

"Uhh hi," Frankie replied with a clumsy smile, waving awkwardly, not used to girls, fans, seeing him strutting around in his plaid green boxers.

"Taryn has those boxers in blue," Ashley informed Frankie hushly, her face slightly hidden by Jessa's arm and shy exterior. Frankie looked toward her and smiled his Cheshire cat smile, chain-reacting Ashley's cheeks to deepen in color.

"And red," Celeste piped in, shoveling the Lucky Charms in her mouth and munching away loudly.

"And yellow," Jessa continued, sipping at her orange juice and glancing at the unkempt, undisturbed bed where she suspected Greg layed...

"Alright!" Taryn shouted, her nerves malfunctioning and shutting down because of screams and teeny overload the past few days. "They understand. I am a boxer addict. They aren't incompetent monkeys." Celeste, Ashley, Jessa, Frankie, Chris and Matt all slowly turned toward Taryn, Taryn smiling coyly as she took a gulp of orange juice.

"Guys!" Jesse suddenly yelled from the bathroom, quickly rounding the corner, still zipping the fly of his khaki capris. "Louie and Brian just pulled up! We're going to be in BIG trouble if they see them. I don't wanna get grounded, it's the summer!"

"Calm down, Jester! We better get out there and...explain the situation," Chris suggested, walking over Celeste and Ashley, taking extra slow time crawling over Celeste, Celeste tempted to smack his ass so hard, he'd be standing up to sleep for a week, and heading for the door, grabbing a pair of yellow sunglasses from the table.

"You girls stay here," Matt informed them discreetly as if the situation could grow out of hand, rising from the table with Frankie and Jesse, tripping over Jesse's sneakers blocking the only safe way out from behind the table. "We'll be right back."

The girls watched them leave the bus, leaning foward until the door was slammed shut, their brain waves concentrated with so many emotions, words resting on the tips of their tounges about this experience, waiting to gossip, waiting to smile.

"I can't believe this is happening," Ashley studdered, lost in the wonder, her brown eyes augmenting.

"Believe it, Toots," Jessa told her with a pat on the back, rising to her feet and stretching toward the sky, twisting her torso to get a full-body workout.

"Hey," Celeste called softly to Jessa, cranking her neck over Celeste's shoulder from the table, noticing an intriguing item of clothing laying crumpled by Greg's bunk. "Look." Jessa cautiously approached the item, a sly smile spreading throughout her face as she saw, what she presumed to be, Greg's royal blue boxers with white stars patterned all over.

"This is going to be fun," Jessa whispered, reaching down for the boxers.

"Those better be clean!" Taryn forewarned Jessa, Jessa stealing an unhealthy chance and sniffing them to assure their purity. Taryn frowned and shunned away from the sight disgusted. The sweet scent of Gain filtrated through her nose to her lucious lips, tingling them. "Here we go again," Taryn moaned, smacking the sweat on her forehead and slunking down on the bashe bench.