What the fuck is even going on right now? You think to yourself while taking in the mass chaos that is the backstage area of Ashley's tour.
People are running around and yelling but also laughing and messing around with each other. Huge black cases of god knows what line all of the walls you've seen so far. The hallways are seemingly endless, too. It's been fifteen minutes and out of everyone you've asked nobody seems to know where Ashley, Sheppard, or Anthony could possibly be found. So much for trying to surprise your girlfriend. There's no fucking way you'll be able to get through all of this to find her dressing room... It was hard enough getting into the parking garage on your own, and that's factoring the all-access pass looped around your neck and your name on every list there could possibly be, apart from the set list.
Someone who looks like Sheppard seems to be turning a corner and you figure he'll be your best bet to making sense of all of the chaos around you. "Shep!" You shout and chase after him as quickly as possible in the heels you decided to wear. What the fuck was I thinking? He doesn't hear you the first time. "Sheppard!"
A roadie dressed in all black taps him on the shoulder and points back at you. He scowls briefly before registering who you are and smiles warmly.
"What are you doing here?" He asks in a jovial tone. "Does Ash know you're here?"
"No, I thought I'd surprise her but I have no fucking idea where to even look for her..."
Shep just chuckles at you and motions for you to follow him. "She's in meet and greet right now, but you can just wait in her dressing room." He fills you in while snaking through the labyrinth of hallways. "It should be wrapping up in the next few minutes." The two of you stop outside of a door. A jail suit orange piece of paper is haphazardly taped up with the words HALSEY. PLEASE KNOCK! on it. "Here you are, I've got to go make sure it wraps up on time. See you in a few!"
"Thanks, Shep."
"Anything for my girl's girl." He winks at you then departs, leaving you alone in your girlfriend's dressing room.
The medium sized room is pretty plain, you realize after sitting on the couch. There are water bottles atop the mini fridge in one corner and a few random snacks that are probably a part of your girlfriend's rider but other than that there's nothing spectacular. A makeup chair and vanity are directly across from you and the singer's bags are tossed haplessly in a corner. You have to roll your eyes at that because she does the same damned thing at home and it annoys you to no end. Sounds from the pandemonium happening outside have dimmed to pretty much nothing, making it a far more relaxing atmosphere from the one you just endured a few minutes ago.
Time passes slowly while you wait for your girlfriend. All week she's been under the impression that you'd be unable to make her last LA show due to an "important exam". Her disappointment wasn't obvious but you could hear the sad twinge in her voice when she would start talking about her big plans for tonight's show, "It's going to be the finale of all finales," she had said, "you're totally going to be missing out on some awesome shit." But there was actually no way you would ever want to miss something this momentous in her career. She deserved everything and then some.
Finally, someone twists the handle and a slew of people begin to file in the dressing room. "Dude, those kids were fucking cool!" You can hear Ashley before you see her. "Look at all of this cool shit! Like grow your own crystals? Where do you even get these?" Three more people come in before her small frame becomes visible. Nobody has even looked in your direction yet and the blonde singer is the first one to turn to the couch.
Ashley stops abruptly when she notices you. "Holy shit! You're fucking here!" She squeals and runs over to jump on top of you. "You said you wouldn't be here!" A punch on the arm sends a tiny shock of pain up your shoulder.
"Ow! Ashley!"
"That's what you get for lying to me!"
"I was trying to surprise you! Now get off of me, you're squishing me."
"No," she says then becomes dead weight on top of you. "You're not going anywhere, you shithead." Her head rests in the crook of your neck where she places a soft kiss.
"Alright. Whatever." You roll your eyes sarcastically as if there's actually another place you'd rather be than squished beneath the love of your life.
