"15 minutes until concert start!"
The loud ringing of the megaphones around the lobby blare like the addition of a ghost's shrieks in a graveyard of ghost shrieks. Some people start to head in, others check in with their tickets, and the rest loiter around in frantic excitement. The crowds push around me as I walk in the opposite direction. A shady spot on a bench under the tree calls my name, so I answer it.
Then, I just wait. I feel lost, disappointed, and a little bit embarrassed. Time zooms by, and, sooner or later, I'm sitting in the almost empty outdoor lobby of a concert. Taylor Swift's massive figure is singing out to me on hanging promotional posters, asking me to just go in (and spend some cash). I really want to (go; not spend the cash).
Ugh. I hate my friends so much. At least as much as I can hate them at any given moment.
"Mind if I sit here?" I hear as I stare at my dead phone in my lap.
Stumbling on my ability to speak, I manage out, "U-Um, yeah, sure."
I scoot to my left and watch this tiny figure of a man plop himself down and sigh. The cold air fogs up and clouds his soft, gloomy face, but he ends up laughing a moment after. We hold eye contact for a year or two before our faces simultaneously break into wide, crazy, yandere-smiles.
"So what -- or who -- are you waiting for?" the man in front of me interrogates, breaking the silence. Actually, he's more of a man-boy. Adorable size, higher-pitched voice, thought-out style, mature posture.
"Uh. I'm sorta waiting for my friends. Erm, my phone died, so I can't call them" I reply, awkwardly holding up the powerless device. "They should be here, but, obviously, they're not."
"Oh... Why haven't you gone in yet?" he lets out, confused.
"My friends aren-"
"I mean-" I'm interrupted, "Why not just go alone and enjoy the concert yourself? Now sis, I may be more of a Beyonce stan, but Swift is no joke. You should enjoy it."
"I- Uh-"
"You'd rather go with friends right?"
"Y-Yeah."
I'm given a second of a hard, thinking stare. One that contrasts the ripped jeans, pink-neon shirt, mesh "sweater," and glass jacket that all scream "party" and "fun." It's a particular outfit, especially for cold weather, but it's not uncommon at a concert like this.
"Hmm... Alright. Then here's the plan: you call your friends on my phone, then we go in together and have fun, regardless of where they are or what they're doing," the man-boy rambles, "Don't worry. My boyfriend kinda ditched for something important. And I sure as hell aren't going alone either."
"You- wait- uh, sure?"
However unusual as I may feel, I don't feel uncomfortable. Granted, a short blondie wearing half as many layers as me, sporting a welcoming face, and carrying bags of something warm isn't a typical stranger. But something in him reminds me of myself, so I agree. Besides, what can I lose? If he tries to mug me, he'll be sorely let down. I've got nothing but my empty phone that has no valuable info. What can I say? It's a poor college student thing. I may have gone to an international school my whole life, but that doesn't mean I won't be poor in college.
A thick grin slapped on his face, the guy hands me his unlocked phone.
"Name's Bitty," he says as I take the device from him. The home screen is a picture of him and another lady at some meet-and-greet. A lady I recognize.
"Will," I reply, pulling up the dial and starting the call on Alex, one of my friends, "You've met Luminum?" I mention the home screen image.
"Oh, you know who she is? Yeah, I had the chance to go to her fan meet when she was in New York. I just happened to be there for a while too," Bitty answers. His voice is perked up with excitement at the start of conversation about Luminum.
"Wow, that's so cool. Her streams and videos are one of my favorites. So I'm assuming you play League as well? Also, no boyfriend picture?" My words spew out in equal willingness to grasp this opportunity. Any past shy-ness is gone, and the barrier between strangers is broken down.
"No, I don't really have time to play League, but I still like watching her play. And my couple picture is on the lock screen. I like to change my home screen to whichever celebrity I met most recently."
"Okay, okay. Love that."
The dialing sound from the phone comes to a freeze, a voice following after it.
"Hello?"
"It's Grun," I start, annoyance lining the sound of my voice, "Where are you?"
"Oh- Uh, I, um," Alex responds, a mix of panting and stuttering indicating guilt, embarrassment, and the drain of energy. An obvious echo is a dead giveaway that he's in a restroom. What makes it worse is someone else's faint moaning.
"You're hooking up again. I knew it. BYE BITCH!" I say, then yell (but not at top volume) into the phone. I actually have no solid confirmation of what Alex is doing, but if I know him, he's probably doing what I accuse him of. Bitty sits silently next to me.
In a quick tap of my fingers, Bitty's phone is already calling Jason. It's picked up almost immediately, unlike Alex's call.
"Um, hello? Who is this?"
"It's me. Where the hell are you?" I frustratedly ask, still heated from talking to Alex.
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Ah, I totally-" Jason half-way apologizes before being cut off and yelping a "hey."
"Hi! Whoever you are, I'm glad to meet you. I just wanted to say how great I think Jason is and want you to tell him that he should say yes to when I ask him out," another voice cheerfully tells me through the phone. But loud music in the background makes it a bit hard to understand.
"Ja- Wait what?" I could hear Jason say, thought a bit muffled.
"Anyways, hello! I'm Darren. Who are you?" This guy, Darren, apparently having taken Jason's phone from his hand, continues to talk to me.
"Wha- Daaarren, come on," Jason pouts, "Are you joking or what?"
"Nope. Will you go out with me? And maybe become my boyfriend?"
"I- Oh my. Of course, I'd love to."
If I ever had the ability to hear someone frown or smile in a phone call, I wouldn't need it when I call Jason. I can literally see his facial expressions when I hear him talk. And hearing this conversation (that didn't include me) confirmed it even more.
"Bye," I say suddenly, hanging up and ending the short-lived call.
It's official. I will hate my friends forever. If I'm honest to myself, it'll actually be until they surprise me with something, but I don't want to be honest.
"You must have a tough time with those two," Bitty softly says, slightly smiling through the sympathetic worry his face shows.
"It's fine. I do this to them sometimes too," I confess. Yet it does still hurt that I was left.
"It's okay. You got me now! I'll be a friend who won't do that," Bitty tells me before chuckling, "Us queens got to stick together. Ready to go in?"
I put my head up and smile.
"Yup."
Standing up, a wave of glee tingles my body, and I feel the beginning of something new in my life.
