The bus ride was long and demanding in some instances, but by the time they had reached Nashville, they were already so drained that they didn't even mind the rest of the way. Even with the naps they had it seemed like it took longer than the day and a half ride that they had undertook. And, if it was any comparison, they all sort of wished they had that beater of a car they had rented in Vegas to ride back in instead of this cramped bus that smelled two scents better than that of a skunk's rear-end.

Michael had finally clambered into his studio apartment with Amy in tow. The other girls had their rides ready for them when they got off the bus, but Amy had decided that instead of taking another bus back to her home, they'd both walk to Michael's apartment where she'd wait for her fiancee to get off of work.

Thunk! Thud! Clink!

The bags were dropped and Michael's apartment keys were placed in a glass bowl beside the door. Amy had went ahead and made herself at home, taking off her shirt and pants, then made her way to the bathroom for a shower. Michael seemed content to just lay down on the pullout bed he'd forgotten to put back into the couch before he'd left. And he was grateful that that oversight now.

Already the apartment was starting to smell of Amy's shampoo, fruity and very feminine. Michael hadn't minded because it meant he'd not have to waste wax on a candle for a good smelling home. His eyes shifted to the ceiling, watching the fan blades above the bed move in circles as it lulled him to other thoughts. He was already trying to get himself into work mode, going about figuring out how to find himself a job, when a headache began. And just in time for Amy's shower to be over.

"Hey, babe, can you bring out the Tylenol from the medicine cabinet, please?" He'd call out as loud as he could manage.

"Yep." She'd say, followed by a creak and snap of the cabinet. She'd had a towel wrapped around her head and a plush shower coat on when she'd exit and brought over a bottle of room temperature water to the bed. Michael sat up, taking the water, giving her a nod, and then swallowed a couple of Tylenol. It was probably dehydration, or starvation, but he'd sooner take a pill to calm his pain than give up his laziness to make food right now.

"You going to let the college help you with a job?" Amy asked while laying herself on the bed, resting her head on Michael's chest.

"Yea. They have the resources so why wouldn't I?" He'd respond while going back to staring at the fan blades.

"Well, I only ask because you know that my future hubby has offered a job to you before. He knows how well you did in school."

"No. I've said before I want to do it on my own. If I can't find a job, or the school only has a crapshoot list of places, then I will think about it. But until then, no. I don't need handouts." Michael was adamant on that. Where his family wasn't of the extremely successful variety, he wanted to be and on his own terms. Not by luck or.. falling into it. It just didn't seem like it'd be that satisfying.

"Stubborn." Amy sat up as she mumbled and took down the towel from her head, letting her fiery hair fall down her back.

The rest of the time was left in silence. Both were happy for it, and Michael was doing all he could not to fall asleep. At about half past six that night he'd hear a doorbell ringing and then look over his shoulder, and the back of the pullout couch, to Amy. She'd already had her things round up, and was just putting her shirt on when she'd answered the door.

A man with dirty blonde hair and a fair complexion walked in, standing at around six feet, and took Amy by the hand. He'd pull her close, kissing her, then she'd giggle and hug him tightly. "Thank you for taking care of her, Michael." The famed fiancee said as Amy waved a goodbye and Michael nodded to them both.

The door shut behind the two of them and Michael's eyes finally shut. His brain shut down, small tingles running from his neck down to his toes gave him a small shiver, and his bed felt much like a gift from the Gods. He hadn't even the energy at that point to undress and cover up. Sleep enveloped him at that point and Michael was out like a light and dead to the world. Only his dreams were with him now.