Murphy and Carlson's Apartment

...

"MUR-FAY! ARE YOU READY?!" I yelled, just about to scream from the excitement.

"Whoah little one, calm your tits! I'm driving there, because I can legally drink, and you're driving home," I say matter-of-factly. I step out of my tiny room, and into the main area of our apartment. "And I'm ready!" I was wearing shorts that I'd made from an old ratty pair of jeans, and a black racerback tank top. On my feet were my lovely yellow Chucks. I wiggled the keys to my car in the air. "Let's go!"

I jumped up, "YAY OKAY!" I was wearing my white t-shirt with all the band names written all over in different colored sharpie, zebra striped jeans, and my black converse, which I loved ever so dearly. I ran out the door, jumping up and down like a little kid going to candy shop.

I laughed a little, humorlessly, and started the car. And so began the drive. "QUICK! CARLY! WHAT BANDS ARE YOU MOST PSYCHED TO SEE?" I ask, kind of messing with her.

"Uhh... Relient K, Fall Out Boy, All American Rejects, My Chemical Romance Avenged Sevenfold..." I say, not very sure, there was more, but I couldn't think of them.

I smile at her, before turning my attention back to the road.

"What bout chu?" I ask, nudging her.

"My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy... All-American Rejects and Circa Survive," I answer. "And don't touch me while I'm driving, dumbass!"

"Oh, right, sorry. I'll try not to do it again."

(ooc: shall we skip to arrival?)

ooc: Yup.

I park the car in the tiny garage that had made sense when the building had been one house.

"Um, this is the apartment I share with Carly. Um, yeah," I say stupidly, unlocking the door.

"The rooms are tiny... I think the only bathroom is bigger than my bedroom," I laugh. "I'm going to go pack shit for me and Carly... Just, I don't know, make yourself at home... Bathroom's down the hall across from the door we came in, and the fridge is semi-stocked." I run into my room first, throwing my favorite clothes into my bag. Shirts, shorts, pants, pajamas. Socks, bras, underwear. When I had all I thought I needed, I ran into Carly's room and did the same. I knew what she considered her "favorite clothes", so she was a lucky little bitch.

"Not really, thanks though," I yell, walking out with my bag over one shoulder, Carly's over the other, and the handle of a hard guitar case in each hand (My bass, and Carly's).

"Actually, can you open the back of my car for me, please?" I ask him, feeling super fucking pathetic.

"Thanks," I smile at him, probably blushing a little bit. As I shut the door to the trunk, I lose my balance.

Fuck. That was the most embarrassing thing ever. "Um, uh, thanks," I say quietly, more of a squeak.