Queen of the Headphone Zombies

Tonic

Emerson

Numb// Linkin Park

My arms are gripping Zoe's waist and my forehead is pressed against hers. This feeling, being here with her after that performance. This fucking feeling right now. It is as though my soul is wrapped and threaded through her soul. I had no idea I could feel this way about someone. How could I have known? Loving someone this much, it is more than I could have imagined. I'm high from just looking at her most days, but add to that this feeling after our performance, I'm flying. 

We belong on stage together. Being together up there feels so meant to be.  The magic has been there since day one, since the first note left her mouth that day we sang together in Dylan's garage. But here, on this stage, with an audience and singing the song we wrote together...

Just damn.

"We did it," I whisper into her ear. It's the fourth time I've repeated that phrase. I can't stop saying it. For the first time in my life I actually have the desire to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. I'm playing music. Real music on a stage with an audience. What is even more un-fucking-believable is I'm playing the songs I've written with this girl that has stolen my heart. Maybe dreams do come true.

I kiss her neck just under her earlobe and whisper, "Baby." I feel the shiver that runs down her neck. This girl, I can't get enough of her.

"Emerson," she says laughing as she tries suddenly to pull away, but my arms are a vice. "Em, we aren't alone back here."

I don't care who sees us together. I really don't. At this moment I'm too full of contentment and happiness to give a damn about the rest of the word.

But when I pull my face back, I can see the blush on hers, even through the zombie crap. I loosen my grip and she steps back and takes a look around.

We aren't alone. We're backstage with our band and both Roger and Josh are staring at us with a big smirk on their faces. Those green made up zombie faces of theirs look hilarious smirking. I laugh out loud.

That's got to be a little stomach turning; two zombies making out. Yeah, maybe we should ditch the make up before we continue. A Zombie make out session – that thought has me laughing out loud again.

I look into Zoe's eyes and they're shining with emotion, excitement, and maybe even a bit of something else. There is a wanting I recognize in her glance...it's an emotion I feel myself every time I look at her. 

"You stay back here, stay out of the spotlight while I go see if I can flag down Chelsea," Zoe says. "Then we better be quick about packing up our stuff and getting out of here before someone recognizes us."

I nod and Zoe turns to go. She knows my mom is milling around out there. A huge part of me just wants to follow Zoe and find my mom and tell her it was me up on that stage rocking out. More than I was before stepping onto the stage, I am ready to come clean. But this is not the setting for that conversation. I don't want to be in a costume when I spill my guts. It will be a serious conversation and zombie make up doesn't exactly scream 'serious.' And I want Zoe by side when I tell my mom, but I have things to confess to my girl first.

I know telling Zoe about the fake girlfriend situation will upset her, but I'm hopeful she'll understand. I've explained about my parents and about my dad's expectations. Zoe's knows the impossible situation my parents put me in and how desperate I've been trying to live my own life. 

Zoe will understand. Damnit, she has to understand. Maybe I need to talk to Chelsea and get some advice on what to say and how to explain it all. The one thing Chelsea is great at is talking her way around things. But it doesn't take more than half a second for me to shake off that idea. Bringing the fake girlfriend into the conversation with the real one is bad on every level. Even I'm not that stupid. But fuck it. I am an idiot for digging myself into this hole in the first place.