Pictures And Some Memories

Thirty Two: Aces Up

My heart raced as I dashed from the green room to the stage, feeling disorganized without my usual crew. I weaved around people as I climbed onto a stack, scoping out the crowd entering at the back. There were a little over two-hundred people here so far, far more than any of our estimations, but we had plenty of space before we hit capacity. Our hired security team was dispersed through the warehouse, standing guard at the staircase leading to the VIP lounge/green room that was the loft upstairs, near the doors, a couple perched near the bar, and then we had several dispersed near and at barricade.

I saw a familiar rag-tag bunch enter then, and I grinned, despite my anxiety about their appearances. My two worlds were quite literally colliding tonight, and although these guys moshed to everyone at Warped Tour, I still felt nervous that they wouldn't enjoy themselves. As soon as they opened their mouths to give their names to one of the guards, Erik bounded up to them with open arms—he was a big fan, and excited to not only host them in the venue, but to be able to say he'd partied with them at the shop later in the week. He then turned and gestured to where I was perched on my stacks, as if to show them where I was hiding. I pointed upstairs, hoping they'd understand to meet me up there, before I hopped down.

I beat my friends to the loft, where I immediately heard Jack and Alex screeching as they ran around, throwing M&M's at each other. "That was my eye you motherfucker!"

"I hate the both of you so, so much right now," I breathed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Alex, you literally just helped me get this room situated. Please don't ruin it with chocolate stains on my brand new fuckin' rug."

"No, no, it's good, because it'll only melt in your mouth, not in your hands!!!" Jack said with a smirk.

I picked up a handful of M&M's and began to set my aim. "I'll get your other eye, you fuck!"

"That's not very ladylike," Erik called out to me as he entered, narrowing missing the show of candies I'd just thrown as he assumed the role of conductor to the train of my friends that followed him.

I greeted everyone with a hug, paying careful attention to not linger in Zacky's embrace for too long as I began the introductions. Even so, I couldn't help but suppress an involuntary shiver at the thrill of being near him again. I'd been busy the last few days, and although I managed to stop by for a quick bite in between rehearsals and setting up, I still hadn't seen him much this week, and I missed him more than I thought I would.

My attention shifted to my friends, who had already began scouting out the makeshift wet-bar I'd set up in a corner. Before long, drinks were being poured, and the first musician of the night took the stage. He was an acoustic artist who went by the name Benji and played soulful, romantic ballads. Meanwhile, an incredibly long line of shots were poured by none other than yours truly, ready to feel the buzz of adrenaline and alcohol in my veins.

"Oooh, Di, sorry, but I'll be sitting this one out. Someone has to be the DD," Cara tossed to me, a beautiful apologetic smile gracing her features.

"No worries. I wouldn't want you embarrassing these guys, anyways," I winked, earning glares from the band.

"And here I am, about to propose a toast to you, and you're being an asshole," Alex shot over to me, rolling his eyes playfully.

"I'll stop, I promise!"

"No, you won't," about half of my friends answered back, making me chuckle. I shrugged; they knew me well.

"Well, anyway," he announced, clearing his throat. "In spite of her awful behavior and super-ego—" I rolled my eyes so far back into my head, it hurt. "—This shot of Fireball is dedicated to the fiery redhead that pulled this whole thing together. Thank you for always working hard and taking care of our shit, Andi."