Ashes of Our Youth || Vacation

"Why is this boardwalk so long!"

The exhausted whine of Mikey Ross cuts across the sea breeze. On the horizon, the sun has begun to rise against the backdrop of the Maldives. It's beautiful — just like they'd imagined, with crystal-clear waters and, most of all, absolute privacy. It's why Ben had booked this resort. A private island, with a massive, private bungalow that sat out in that warm blue water, far away from prying eyes. If Ben didn't see a flash from the bushes for the next two weeks, it would be welcome.

Because damn if they all aren't burnt out.

They're grateful, of course; a world tour is an amazing thing — and a headlining stadium world tour is even bigger. Who knew four boys from Ohio would make it this big.

"What happened to I'll beat you all to the bungalow, Ross?" Vic Havoc glares from under his sunglasses, clutching a Red Bull that wasn't giving him the energy he needed. He scrubs a hand through his bright red hair, silently reminding himself to get a room away from the overgrown bleach blonde that was Mikey Ross.

"It's farther than it looked from the shore!" Mikey huffs, adjusting the brim of his bucket hat to make sure the sun isn't hitting him. He so was not going to get a sunburn on the first day. Kellin and Vic would never let him live it down.

"Both of you stop." Ben shoots back, giving a weary stare over his shoulder. "We have two weeks off— do you know how hard I had to fight for that? Don't spoil it just because our flight was hell."

"That's an understatement," Zack snorts from his position at the rear, dragging a large cooler behind him of snacks they'd picked up before being brought over to the island. "That flight was worse than wrangling a snake from your bed."

Davey blinks, lowering his sunglasses down to look at his friend. He's swapped his leather jacket out for a lightweight black button-down, open to show the intricate tattoos that decorate his chest. "I'm— not even going to ask why you have experience with that because I'm sure the answer is Australia."

Zack nods, laughing as he notices the shiver that runs through the band. "Don't worry— I'll check the bus every night for snakes and spiders when we get to Aus. But you guys better stop being slobs or I might leave the snake in your bed."

He's teasing, but smirks when he sees Kellin and Mikey exchange panicked glances. Vic laughs triumphantly. "I'm safe then! But you, Beckett, you're screwed."

Kellin— who felt like death warmed over, both from the flight and the heat wonders if Ben would kill him for chucking his energy drink at Vic's skull. He doesn't, though, and instead just glares at the back of Vic's head. "Watch it Martinez, or I'll leak that video of you and Mikey doing KPOP dances."

Vic gasps, swiveling around when they reach the bungalow. "You wouldn't dare!"

Kellin just smirks that obnoxious I'm a lead singer smirk he was so well known for, leaning closer to Vic in challenge "Try me."

But it's Ben who steps in, leveling a withering gaze at the four boys. He swears sometimes these idiots weren't famous musicians but still the snot-nosed high school kids he met all those years ago. It was hard to believe it'd been almost a decade since then. The passage of time was a cruel mistress.

"No fighting, guys. We're here to relax and recharge, save the fights for the water and the super soakers we got searched at customs over." He pauses, pushing open the door to allow the boys inside. "Now there's six bedrooms so no one has to bunk together, but only one is the master and the rest are smaller. Don't— "

He begins to warn the boys not to fight for the room— that they could draw straws to see who got the bigger room. But he should have known better. Even being half dead from a rough overnight flight that didn't get them on the island until the wee hours of the morning, the boys were going to fight each other for the room.

Kellin is already up the stairs, Vic and Mikey close on his heels. "You're too slow, Ross, you always have been even when we were kids!"

Mikey scowls, grabbing the back of Kellin's shirt. "You cheat! You always do! Ben didn't even finish talking."

"Idiots! You guys can't even keep the bus clean! Why would you get the bigger room?" Came Vic from behind them. But it's Davey who's slipped past the fighting trio to take the lead on the stairs. "Later, losers," he tosses up a peace sign, picking up his pace.

Zack stands in the main entry with an annoyed Ben, hearing the stumbling and shoving on the stairs. "They're racing to see who gets the master, aren't they?"

Ben sighs, undoing his thermos to take a long drink of the shitty black airplane coffee he'd hoarded. "I thought they would be too tired for this shit. Or maybe, a miracle would've happened, and they'd stopped being dumbasses."

Zack laughs, beginning up the stairs after them to mediate, "Oh Benji, Benji, Benji— We both know that is a massive pipe dream"

At the top of the stairs, four of the world's most famous rockstars are locked in a wrestling match, trying to get towards the main bedroom first. Insults and punches are thrown, until finally, the bundle of ink and hair dye hits the door, knocking it open, sending all four men crashing to the floor.

"I'm first!" Mikey yells from the bottom of the pile, and Kellin, scowling, smacks his best friend. "We're all first, you idiot; we fell in at the same time."

The towering brunette unfurls himself from the others, dusting off the denim vest he wore over his bare torso. "But, seeing as I am the lead singer," he begins, with a smugness, "I should get the—"

It feels like a record scratches when his blue eyes flicker across the bed. He'd planned to make a case as to why the lead singer needed a bigger room for his beauty sleep, but instead of a perfectly made bed, he finds a sleeping figure underneath the soft sheets. "What the fuck?"

Each of the boys' gaze follows Kellin, all noticing the sleeping figure. How could someone be in their villa when Ben had paid extra to ensure no one would bother them out here. It's not like there were any other rooms nearby.

Zack is immediately on alert, wondering if it's an unhinged fan, but no one knew where they were vacationing; Ben had planted fake reservations in several countries to throw the more rabid Ashes fanbase off. So how—

Before he can speak, Ben appears in the door, his large hand gripping the frame. "Have you all killed each other yet or— “ He notices the figure immediately, having wondered why the shouting had ended so abruptly and come to check. "I see."

Immediately, Ben is in manager mode, his years of crisis management kicking in. No one should be here. He'd gone over painstaking details with the resort for this reason. They didn't need another incident of a fan trying to spoon Kellin while he slept. He steps around the stunned musicians, towards the figure in the bed. Sighing and making a mental note to demand a raise from the label, he grips the sleeping person's shoulder, giving a small shake to wake {{obj}} up.

"You shouldn't be here," he begins, his voice stern. "This is a private villa, and you are trespassing."

The Tokyo summer heat is sweltering, and it wasn't even nine in the morning. Just outside of the Emporium on Main Street in Tokyo Disneyland, a group of four tattooed men stands off in the stage. Each is wearing a face mask and sunglasses — doing their best to conceal their identities in the park.

Because they aren't normal park-goers — they're the world-famous band, Ashes of Our Youth.

Kellin Beckett leans against one of the pillars, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest. "Where did the airhead go?" he asks, peering over his sunglasses at his drummer who was snapping photos of the glass dome that covered the street. Davey glances over at his friend, giving a gentle shrug of his shoulders. "He said something about a *critical souvineer he had to acquire immediately."

Vic rolls his eyes from where he was crouching next to Kellin, keeping his electric fan on him as it whirls. It was too fucking hot already and he immediately regrets agreeing to this — even if he was kind of excited. He never got to go to a Disney park as a kid. "Which means he's shopping already."

"Here he comes," Zack Lee notes, having kept his eye on the shop Mikey had ventured into. He knew better than to let Mikey go too far out of his sight when collectibles were involved. Mikey Ross, Ashes' guitarist, was weaving through the crowds, a pair of Mickey ears already on his head — they were plaid, with studs and piercings on the ears and a black bow in the middle. "Hey! Check it out!"

He waves his bag of merchandise, pulling out a hat for each of the boys.

A black Oswald the Lucky Rabbit bucket hat for Kellin.

The classic Peter Pan hat, complete with a red feather, for Davey.

A Rex plushie headband for Vic.

And for Zack, a headband where the ears were Mickey Hamburgers.

"...You bought us all.... mouse ears?" Kellin asks skeptically, but he tugs off the baseball hat he wore, swapping it out for the bucket hat. After all — it would mean a lot to Mikey, and while Kellin might give him shit, he'd do anything for his best friend. "I bought us all hats!" Mikey corrects, looking proud as each boy put on their gift. "It's a must! We're at Tokyo Disney! We gotta fit in!"

Zack laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts the headband so as not to mess up his messy bun. "Mate, I hate to break it to you, but we stand out no matter what."

It was true— they were heavily tattooed, and despite their desire to keep a low profile, they were already drawing some attention.

"Over here!" Davey waves, catching sight of Ben coming out of the service office, paperwork in hand. The tall brunette nods in acknowledgment, having switched out his glasses for sunglasses as well.

He still isn't sure this is a good idea — after all, they weren't an upstart band anymore; their shows at the Tokyo Dome were sold out — eight nights, something never done by a North American act. But, he looks at them, Vic shaking his head to make Rex dance with a laugh and Mikey demanding Kellin take a selfie with him, and decides — fuck it. These boys needed a break.

"Oh hey! Ben!" Mikey scrambles for his bag of souvenirs — ruining his latest picture with Kellin, who scowls in response as the blonde hurries over to their tour manager. "I didn't forget about you either! Here!"

Mikey pulls out a bright orange tiger-striped bucket hat, placing it on Ben's head himself. "I don't need a hat, Mikey—"

Ben begins to protest, but Mikey shakes his head, insisting. "I knew you'd say that! You could learn from Tigger and have some fun!"

His hazel eyes fix on Mikey, wanting to tell him it was far too hot to wear a fuzzy bucket hat but stops himself once more. It was only a few hours. "Fine."

Vic laughs, clapping Ben on his shoulder. "You're turning into a softie, old man," he teases fondly, and Ben just sighs in response.

"They're assigning us a guide who speaks English, so we just need to stay put and not cause a scene... The last thing we need is another Eiffel Tower incident, Kellin."

Kellin ignores Ben's glare, shrugging his shoulders casually. "How was I suppose to know a bunch of our fans were also at the Eiffel tower."

Ben is about to lecture Kellin on social media safety and this being the reason why he'd also had his nudes leaked, but Zack's hand on his shoulder stops him. "Mate— I think we have a problem"

Fuck

A group of fans stood nearby, whispering and looking at photos on their phones, most likely trying to identify if the group of tattooed assholes was who they thought they were, and judging by the excited gasps that begin in a symphony of excitement — they'd been spotted already.

And they hadn't even gone on a single ride yet.

"Ashes!" the fans begin to scream excitedly, rushing towards the musicians. The band is immediately in flight mode — this wouldn't be the first time they've run from fans.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Kellin yells, "Everybody run!"