Cheyenne had fallen asleep atop the book she’d been reading, getting a bit of droll on the pages which now stuck together and curling up under the covers. She was woken up by the sound of hands beating the windows of her trailer and smacking the door. She snorted awake and rubbed her eyes, frowning softly and wondering what the heck was happening. They usually got to sleep in a little the morning after a performance. At least if it went well. And hadn’t last night gone so smoothly? Chey yawned and stood, when the static of the walkie talkie burst through the room. She jumped a bit at Betty’s voice, saying the police were on their way, making Cheyenne hurry to slip on some high waisted skinny jeans and a tight plaid button up shirt. She tossed her black hair into a ponytail and slipped on her flats before jumping out of the trailer and slamming the door. She hopped into the old CR-V it was attached to, and began driving, stomach growling in protest as she followed the others with sleepy blue eyes.