Sinking into the couch, coke in hand you laid back. Wearing a tank top the scarring on your skin out, everyone else was shockingly asleep or hung over in their rooms, you needed to breathe, you couldn't just wear long sleeve all day...

The door opened and in stumbled Pickles, you thought he was drunk at first, then realized your mistake. Even if he was drunk, he could drink a lot, he would have noticed either way.

"Dood! what the heck is all that in your skin! you get mauled by a tiger or somethin'!?"

It was so embarrassing, but also scary. This whole band was about being brutal, this wasn't brutal in your find, it was foolish, something a whimp would do. You went to cover them up, and that's when Pickles seemed to realize what they were from, a slight frown forming

"Ooh.."

He lightly huffed and sat next to you, beer in one hand. He looked at you for a bit, before a doopy smirk appeared on his face

"I got scars too!"

He lifted his shirt, showing scaring under his chest, clearly from a surgery

"Look, scars don't make you any less brutal, they make you cool! I mean look at dat! Nathan would kill to have something so cool, you shouldn't hide it, your totally cool dood!"