walk with jimmy

"I feel like I'm going to stink to death."

When James got out of the car, he couldn't help mumbling.

"The smelly one is not you, it's probably me."

Theo said honestly from the side: "Last night, the shower in the crappy place we lived in didn't work, so I didn't take a shower."

"Fuck! Why don't you ask someone to fix it, or change the room?" Lance immediately moved one meter away from him.

"Did you forget that we performed on stage for almost three hours, and were chased and blocked by fans for two hours! At that time, I was so fucking tired that I just wanted to lie on the bed and sleep without moving." Theo hugged wearily. Looking at his own bass, he mourned pitifully.

"Okay, hotels in Manchester should not have such low-level problems anymore."

Baldwin persuaded from the side: "After watching the venue and rehearsal, we will go to the hotel to have a good rest."

"I must take a long shower."

James stretched his waist: "Then change into clean clothes and sleep comfortably."

"Go to the stage first."

Lance maintained his usual strictness: "There can be no problems with the performance."

"Don't worry, don't worry."

James cheered up and said, "There will be no problem."

So, the four of them ran to the venue without even having time to go to the hotel.

After a rough rehearsal, another reporter came over and wanted to jump in line for a temporary interview.

Because he is a reporter who is familiar with and has worked with, of course he has to give face, so Lance, who has always acted as a foreign spokesperson, went to be interviewed.

James continued to walk up and down the stage.

He held a microphone in one hand, and held a small tambourine in the other hand, shaking it back and forth on the top of his head, his voice fluctuated, and he sang a few lines from time to time to test the sound: "Hey, can you hear the sound over there? Listen carefully. , One! Two! Three... She is 16 years old... How about this? Is it clear enough?"

The staff standing in the last row of the venue waved their arms in time to indicate that there was no problem.

James reassuredly changed the direction and continued, lazily and patiently repeating: "That corner in the east, try again... Hey, hey... She is 16 years old..."

“…We had to make every line of the lyrics clear to the highest, furthest, and backmost audience.”

Lance, who is usually responsible for speaking to the public, explained to a reporter in a corner next to the stage: "This is our job. If anyone has ever observed our performance, they should be able to find that Jimmy is always trying to face the audience in the last row. Singing. Because the audience sitting there is the farthest from the stage, whether it is listening or watching, it will be very laborious. Jimmy always hopes that every audience who comes to the show can really enjoy the wonderful music, instead of being stupid like an outsider Sit."

"That sounds very gentle."

The reporter couldn't help jokingly commenting: "But this is not the same as his usual external performance."

"I know that the outside world has exaggerated his temper..."

Lance couldn't help laughing, and added: "But after you get in touch with him, you will find that he is actually really good at talking."

At this time, James' voice audition sounded in his ear again: "Can you hear me? Onetwothree, Lance is 20 years old this year!"

"God, it's coming again!"

The black-haired guitarist showed an irritable expression and shouted towards the stage: "Don't mess with my lyrics, Jimmy."

"Lance likes Peter Rabbit..."

"I didn't, it was you!"

"Lance sleeps with Peter Rabbit every day!"

"Enough, that's you!"

"Lance, Lance, Lance in a dress, eating carrots with a rabbit."

"Shut up, you idiot!"

The calm black-haired guitarist finally couldn't bear it anymore and left the reporter behind, and ran onto the stage, trying to stop his lead singer holding a microphone and shouting around, talking nonsense and ruining his image.

But James turned around and ran, rattling the tambourine while running, holding up the microphone by the way and continuing to speak nonsense to him: "Lance stomped his temper like a little girl."

Baldwin and Theo watched the fun and laughed.

"Are they always like this?"

The reporter looked at this scene amusedly, and casually asked the staff next to him.

The staff who were checking the stage circuit couldn't help raising their heads: "What?"

"Is there such a fight?" The reporter asked.

Since this reporter is an acquaintance of the band, he often writes positive reports for the band.

Therefore, after the staff recognized him, they answered easily without much concealment: "Not always, just from my personal opinion, Jimmy may just be used to Lance always standing next to him. You know, he He and Lance are very good friends, they are close like brothers, kind of twins who share a soul. So, once Lance's attention is not on him, he will try to do something. Listen It might sound self-centered, but most lead singers are like that (most lead singers: no no) and it might be a form of lead singer syndrome. You know, all lead singers like attention. But they I was born for this, and I was born to shine on the stage!"

The reporter nodded suddenly.

But for some reason, he always felt that there was something wrong with what he said.

At this time, Davis hurried over.

He ran a little anxiously all the way, and after he stopped, he wiped the sweat from his forehead before standing under the stage, raised his head and shouted: "Jimmy, Jimmy, don't run away now. Lance, you too Let him go, let him come here, I have something to say."

"what's up?"

James immediately used this to break free from Lance's grabbing arm, ran to the edge of the stage and squatted down to talk to Davis.

"First of all, I'm sorry."

Davis said as calmly as possible: "I have some bad news to tell you."

"Oh?" James casually and curiously uttered a tone word, and deliberately raised his face to match the floor.

The way he is squatting by the stage at this time is very much like a cat squatting by the dining table. He has no expression on his face, but he has a condescending aura. His expression is serious and silent, creating a depressive atmosphere, so that people who are watching will spontaneously feel happy. Guilt and guilt.

Davis was obviously affected by the atmosphere, but there was no way to avoid it.

He could only say quickly, "A car carrying luggage just got into an accident."

"Fuck! Any casualties?"

James didn't care about posing, and hurriedly asked.

"That's not true. Everyone is safe and sound. I thank you for your concern on their behalf." Davis replied.

"Since there are no casualties...then what the hell are you worried about?" James immediately relaxed and laughed again.

"But you lost your suitcase." Davis tried to keep his tone calm, trying not to reveal any negative emotions.

James' smile faded away.

He was stunned for three seconds: "What the hell does it mean to lose it?"

Davis couldn't help shrugging, trying to ease the atmosphere with a relaxed tone: "I can't find it, I'm missing, I'm missing, I'm missing..."

"I just have two big fucking suitcases, right?"

"If I remember correctly, yes, two."

"All gone?"

"Yes."

"I remember, Lance had twenty fucking suitcases, ten times as many as mine, bro!"

"Well, thank goodness none were lost."

—Should I fucking thank you for him?

——Why am I so unlucky?

——I have been busy for several days and I am almost exhausted!

— hoping to get a good rest tonight, only to get the fuck out of my way, fuck!

Guys, you know people lose their minds when they're short of breath.

James jumped up angrily.

He couldn't hold back and slammed the tambourine on Davis's head hard, and began to show his teeth and claws: "Fuck you! What do you mean by coming here to tell me? Don't look for it? Fuck! Fuck! Is it the police? Let whoever finds it if you lost it, and if you can’t find it, get out of here! Let me jump into the Mersey River to atone for my sins!”

The tambourine slammed on the head with a crisp sound, which immediately attracted everyone's attention.

Davis couldn't help covering his head and took a few steps back, but he was worried that James would accidentally fall off the stage in a panic, so he hurriedly stepped forward two more steps, and at the same time stretched out his arms to block it.

But James reflexively stretched his legs and kicked.

At this time, Lance ran over, grabbed his waving arm from behind, and then hugged him into his arms to stop him: "Jimmy, calm down."

"Fuck off, how can I calm down? It's not you who threw things. My clothes are all in there, my picture album is in there, the sweater my dad knitted is in there, the cross Linde gave me is also in there, and Peter Rabbit is also in there." inside..."

James was so angry that he stretched his legs and kicked forward: "Fuck, I don't even have to change my underwear after taking a shower, and you still tell me to calm down!"

"You don't have to wear underwear too! That's all right, don't be childish and make people laugh." Lance's ability to focus is really top-notch.

"I'll see who the hell dares to laugh at me!"

James pushed him away, but when he turned around, he found that Lance was laughing by himself, annoyed: "Fuck, you bastards!"

At this time, the reporter and the cameraman came over curiously when they saw the movement here.

James finally realized that there was an outsider, and reflexively blocked the camera with his hand: "Fuckoff!"

He glared at Davis again, and stormed off the stage like a Tyrannosaurus rex. The staff were so scared that they all made way for him, banged all the way, and kicked a chair that was in the way.

The reporter looked at Lance amusedly, and asked silently, "Very easy to talk to?"

Lance was speechless.

But he didn't rush to talk to James. Instead, he walked off the stage first, went to Davis and asked in a low voice, "Are you all right?"

Davis picked up the tambourine that fell on the ground, sighed and pushed his glasses: "It's okay, I know he lost his temper just because he was exhausted recently."

He thought for a while, and then added: "He probably doesn't want to see me now, can you help me later and ask him what size underwear he wears? I'll find someone to buy him some spare sets, I can't It really makes him not wear..."

Before Lance had time to think about it, he gave the answer directly.

Davis couldn't help being startled, and couldn't help sighing: "It seems that you two have the best relationship."