Sehun calls Sooyoung late after the second concert. The wireless phone pressed between his head and the sofa as he does everything in his power not to fall asleep. It is well past midnight for him, which means it's even later for her, yet the phone hardly rings before he's greeted by her sweet voice over the receiver. She doesn't sound tired, nor like Sehun's roused her from sleep, and he can't help the sleep grin as they talk. She wants to know everything, and he answers each question that she asks.

That evening after the band's first concert, Kyungsoo and he was quickly welcomed into the fold of things. By the time Junmyeon had made it to the dressing room, they were long past the awkward introductions and engrossed in a story being told by NeoCiTy's bassist Johnny.

Kyungsoo, at some point, had reminded the large group that the two of them were reporters, so they might want to be careful of their words. Instead of causing them to clam up, his words seemed to incite the two bands, and tale after tale more outrageous and embarrassing than the next was quickly divulged in the passing seconds like they were in competition to get their embarrassing story published.

They were interrupted occasionally. Sometimes by other reporters, occasionally by a roadie or two, but more often than not by groups of women, many of which extremely beautiful and glammed up.

The women never got to stay longer than for a picture or two, but in the time there they'd have the men of the bands vying for their attention by pseudo-machismo means that was more jest than reality but often reminded Sehun of the frat guys back on campus.

"No groupies," Sehun asked in between the seas of women, after watching Junmyeon usher them out before they could get too comfortable. He'd read stories from other bands and the women that followed those bands and figured groupies were as integral to rock culture as the instruments.

There was a chorus of laughter throughout the room, and before he could question it, Chanyeol spoke up.

"Junmyeon wants us to be as less as he is," he joked.

There had been more laughter after that. Junmyeon, the band's manager, was often the target of their teasing, but it seemed all in good nature. The man, despite his apparent busyness, had a wittiness to him and gave as good as he got. It was something Sehun looked forward to observing in the upcoming days.

"It's a first night ritual," Baekhyun had actually explained. "It made sense at the time, and it's not like the women evaporate. The women that really want us follow us to almost every stop." He'd given a smarmy grin and an eyebrow lift that had him bursting into laughter minutes later. They laughed a lot.

The first night had been eye-opening. No amount of reading interviews and tour tales could have prepared him as well as being there did.

The second night just solidified his expectations.

There were more drinks passed around backstage as the band and roadies packed up on day 2. The women were allowed to stay, each girl picking a band member to entertain them, and only switching when they got bored or if they lost the guy's attention.

Some women seemed familiar. There was a blonde cuddled up to Yuta of NeoCiTy that Sehun was positive took Econ with him last semester. He hadn't bothered asking.

There was an after party at the bands's hotel in celebration of a successful tour start. Sehun hadn't planned to go, figuring that there would be more parties along the way, and planning to drive Kyungsoo across town to the airport.

Kyungsoo didn't agree, and he found himself following the vans to the hotel twenty minutes away. The ride gave Sehun a moment to formulate his thoughts, tightly securing his reporter's hat, knowing that he would be going in to tell a story not to party with the others.

For nearly thirty minutes, Sehun was a silent observer. Someone had handed him a glass of Jack Daniels, and he had sipped at it as he watched on, cataloging what he could mentally, and taking sparse notes.

They didn't conform to the stereotype of being too wild or destructive, like many rock bands. There was an endless flow of alcohol, joints to be shared, music, women, and laughter. There was so much laughter despite the gloom of many of TACTIX songs and the anger in NeoCiTy's.

Occasionally, Sehun would catch the attention of a curious woman, but there was nothing more than a lingering stare, or a few whispered words to the closest band member to her.

The entire floor belonged to the two bands and their entourage, and because of the vast size of the group, many of them splintered off into their own mini-parties in the different rooms. They differed little, besides the music being played and the conversations being held, but Sehun still took his time, passing between each of them until he had an account of each person within TACTIX.

Sehun wakes late the next day. Originally, he'd planned to start the trip to San Francisco after taking Kyungsoo to LAX, hoping the late hour would make the commute out of the city a breeze. He planned to take a break once out of the city to get some proper sleep before continuing the rest of his journey.

Now, those plans have gone the wayside and he'll be lucky if he makes it home before midnight. His neck hurts from sleeping on the sofa, and his stomach rumbles from hunger, but thankfully he's not hungover, not that he could be from a single glass of whiskey. He didn't even like whiskey.

There's a deli around the corner from his apartment that he stops at for a quick bite before making his way out of the city.

When Sehun had first made the solo trip to LA by car, he'd been nervous. He'd gotten his license at sixteen, but had only driven locally until that trip.

When he'd graduated high school, his parents had given him a nice chunk of money that he'd combined with all of his savings finally to buy his own car. Yet, he didn't make the commute until the second semester of his freshmen year, opting to leave the car home for his first semester.

He'd spent that first half of his trip with a near death grip on his steering wheel. By the second rest stop, he'd been too tired from his anxiety to continue stressing.

It's different now. Being surrounded by mountains and deserts brings him a sense of peace. He lets the cities melt away and with that most of his concerns, instead he thinks about his next few months, thinks about the list of interview questions Kyungsoo gave him and the ones he added on, and weighs them against all he's seen and learned the past two nights.

Last night, and the night before, had been amazing experiences. He had little expectations coming in, but two nights in and no interviews yet, and this was shaping up to be his greatest piece of all time. The bands and their crew had been great, friendly and open, and seemingly ready to tell him anything.

___________________________________

His mother is at the door the moment he's finished kicking off his shoes, embracing him with a hug so tight he can feel the breath leave him.

"You've lost weight," she complains, drawing back to pinch lightly at his cheek. She's got a frown on her lips like she's plotting how many leftovers she can sneak into his bag before he hits the road again.

"It's 'cause I missed your cooking, eomma," he replies as standard. It's not a lie. He might be a little biased, but all the Korean restaurants in LA couldn't compare to a single homemade dish from his mother.

He had told his parents about the article for Kyungsoo's zine immediately after telling Sooyoung and finding out the tour stops in San Francisco. They were happy for him, they always were when he gained new opportunities, but they were skeptical about him following a rock band on tour.

His mother had been particularly concerned and had taken the time to inform him that their church thought of it as the devil's music, and that those rock 'n' roll bands participated in devious behavior.

Sehun had spent a good twenty minutes promising her it was okay and that the band he was following was nothing like the other rock 'n' roll bands. It helped that Sehun had had little of a life before college and any and all acts of rebellion boiled down to an occasional white lie here and there.

He's the youngest in his family, with his brother doing his residency out in Boston. It's a double-edged sword. On the one hand, he'd been able to pursue what he wanted and do what he wanted with little protest from his parents. On the other hand, they constantly treated him like a small child still.