Trent sits outside the tour bus, eating salmon wellington (it's only natural, they are in wellington after all,) and taking in some sun. He's still covered in filth from the stage and the remnants of his makeup. Most concertgoers give him a wide berth. Occasionally a fan will pop up and Trent will sign something or take a picture before shooing them off. He finishes his salmon wellington and reclines in his chair, thinking of something interesting to do. "Hmm...I wonder where Mariko is..." he says idly.

"Hey!" Trent says, waving. "Most things are," he replies, laughing as he takes the beer. He sips at it. "You know, it might just be because we're in New Zealand, but this New Zealand beer tastes better than American beer," he says. "What have you been up to?" he asks. "Since we're not supposed to stray too far from the venue grounds, I've been pretty bored."

"I don't think I could ever get with a fan. It'd feel...I don't know, dirty," he says, shrugging. "Plus, I already have Vara. Ever since I got with her I tend to not talk to women as much."

"Well, yeah, you. But you're different," he says, taking another sip of his beer. "Sometimes I wonder if Vara would be mad if she knew I was friends with you...she didn't like it when I was friends with Teresa.." he says, looking down. "But whatever. Fuck it, you're my friend. I'll hang out with you whenever I damn well please!" he says, smiling.

"I don't really know. To tell the truth, I haven't really been trying to talk to them that much...I'm sleeping most of the time we're not playing live. It's tiring. I also think they're pissed because they're getting paid less...you know, we've had to pay for all the sound equipment we've trashed and all that.." he shrugs. "I'll try to talk to them, though. But today is for rest. We've got a day off tomorrow, right? Or coming up soon?"

"Maybe. Everyone loves ice cream," he says, and waves away the cigar. "I'm trying to quit," he says, finishing his beer. "I figure if I smoke less, I can drink and do other drugs more."

"Oh, well yeah, sure," he says, taking the cigar and taking a hit. "tiger stripe, man," he says, "that shit is the best."

"I can't play pool for shit," Trent says. "Darts? look at this," he says, holding up his hand. "See that mark beneath my fingernail? I was drunk with some guys once, and we decided to do that knife thing from 'Aliens,' you know, where you hit the spaces between your fingers? Well, we tried with darts, and I shoved the thing right through my finger, split the nail. I almost passed out," he says, nodding soberly. "So never let me handle darts when I'm drunk."

"Really? I thought balls weren't your thing? I heard you preferred the pockets," he says, cracking up.

"I hope she shows up to at least one of the shows in the states," Trent says, a look of longing coming into his eyes. "I just wish she could be on the tour..." he sighs. "Well, if she was on the tour, I guess I never would've talked to you. So I guess it's a good thing she isn't on the tour," he says, smiling up at Mariko.