"But they do like him, see the public responses on the polls?" The redhead offered.

The white-haired boy turned to glare at him. "In terms of actors, I'm number one... but in terms of characters, Near is tied for dead last with Ross."

"Now hold it, wait up, hold the phone." The other boy said- waving around extravagantly. "...We all know I'm number one for actors."

Nate scoffed and pulled out his iphone. He fiddled with it for a moment before he grinned. "You, my dear friend, are third!"

"Below who?" The other chuckled.

"Myself, in first," Nate scoffed. "And Mihael, in second... pssh, this thing is rigged. It was probably voted on by a bunch of angsty teenagers who think being different is what is in right now."

He paused for a moment. Something about the line up seemed familiar, but he didn't let the thought linger as his cell phone rang and he answered it.

"Uh...where the hell are you?" It was Mihael's voice coming through to him.

"Where are we?" Nate asked Mail, before quickly returning to the phone. "I would be there if Mail didn't have this nasty habit of only being able to turn right..."

The red-head flipped Nate the bird before pulling around again.

"What the hell, do you get rides from that guy or something?" Mihael asked hotly.

"I haven't been able to drive since I got my license pulled for drunk driving," Nate hummed, leaning against the window. "I would have gone to jail but luckily he took payment and only pulled my li... gosh, don't look at me like that, Mail! I gave him an autograph!"

"Tell him to get his head outta the fucking gutter- and DON'T RUN ME OVER!" Mihael burst in alarm before Nate heard the tires screech loudly.

There was a thud and Nate shrieked, leaping from the car and rushing over to Mihael, his phone dropping to the ground. "Mihael, are you okay!?"

Mihael blinked up at Nate from the ground.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed.

"Who walks right out in the middle of the street!?" Mail snapped as he stepped out of the car next. "Is he hurt!?"

"Are you hurt?!" Nate cried, fawning all over the blonde with tears in his eyes.

"No, I think he killed my fucking cell!" Mello snapped as he stood up and glared at Mail. "Where'd you get your fucking license!?"

"He's fine." Mail snorted.

"Thank god... I mean gosh!" Nate cried, his face flushing in embarassment before he quickly got up and stumbled across the street, over to where the trailers where at.