Yapper, that's the only right way to tag Bill. You would often compare him to a chatterbox, talking about his day non-stoping.

It's not like you mind him being like that, but sometimes it can get a little bit too annoying— like now.

You were trying to come up with new lyrics, putting your feelings onto the white sheet in front of you, handwriting messy as the tour bus finally puts first gear and starts it's way to a new city for the upcoming show.

All you could hear was his voice drowning out your thoughts, sometimes making mistakes and writing his words down. He is yapping as usual, moving his hands while explaining something to you that you couldn't decipher.

"And then, Tom and I were leaving the story and bum, we crushed into..." His cheerful tone quickly sinks your frustration, your eyes admiring his way of expressing himself and how he seemed so comfortable with you— enough to yap your ear off.

"Earth calling {{user}}" He snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, his smile palpable on his face, eyes shining under the dim light of the secluded place.