It’s the first time I have been on Warped Tour in my life and I was surprised my band was even invited. I wasn’t sure if my voice and our music style would be good enough to be invited to this prestigious event of summer. It’s hot enough that I’m baring my arms and legs even though I’m insanely pale and my legs are too muscular for my taste. Being an ex dancer means that your thighs are much larger than all the little girls I’ve seen walking around her, but then again they are little girls. I’m not the teenager I used to be and at twenty four, I am quite proud of where I am at this stage. Even though I am in my twenties…I still feel like a kid in that I can’t help watching all my favorite bands.
And right now, my blue eyes are being captivated by All Time Low.
I admit that they’re style is exactly what made me fall in love with music. They’re slight punk, slight pop attitude is captivating and their songs about their take on romance make me blush since I’m standing at the side of the stage. Admittedly, I have quite the crush on the lead singer…but I am so painfully shy. I don’t think that I will have the guts on this tour to talk to him. Hell I’m biting my lip just watching him sing, and play guitar as it is…
He glances my direction and I feel my cheeks go red. He smiles and winks at me, making the sensation worse.
After a moment of this, I couldn’t take it any longer.
I stepped off stage and made way to my dinky little tour van where my boys from Reckless Abandon were waiting. We were still small, trying to make it big but the fans we had were loyal. At least we were playing on a decent size stage later in the afternoon rather than a tiny, pathetic thing where we played immediately when the place opened. We were going on soon and I knew that my nerves were only going to get worse as time passed.
But fuck it. What else did we live for as a band if we didn’t get anxious before going in front of a bunch of people? This was normal, I felt like this every time.
“Hey Jillian!” my guitarist Derek called. He smiled and waved, “The fuck are you doing? Shouldn‘t you be warming up your voice?!”
“Shit,” I muttered to myself and then rolled my eyes, “How do you know I haven’t been huh?!”
“Because you’ve been busy watching me,” came a voice from behind me. I jumped at the familiarity of it, not believing or trusting my ears for one instant because I knew it couldn’t be him…right?
I blushed as I met his eyes.
His brown and blonde hair was disheveled, sweat causing it to stick to the skin of his face and in rough patches on his head where the hairspray wouldn’t allow it to move much. There was a fresh gleam of perspiration on his body, a tank top gracing his muscular build and skinny jeans enveloping his legs. He was taller than me, not by too much but by enough that I had to look up into those big brown orbs. There was a little stubble on his chin, but the smile on his lips captured me in a way that made me seem like a complete imbecile. I couldn’t speak.
“You alright there?” he asked. I stammered something incoherent and he just grinned broader. “So uh…I know this is pretty unconventional but maybe instead of burgers and hotdogs at the usual tonight…maybe we could get some take out and hang out on my bus or something.” I raised a brow.
“Say what?” I questioned, thoroughly confused with his offer. I didn’t even know him.
“Well uh,” he said quickly, the faint blush on his cheeks leveling off the high amount of epinephrine flooding my body. He pulled his lips into a line and sighed. “Well shit I just fucked that up huh?” I scoffed softly in incredulity.
“I don’t even know what you’re asking,” I replied gently. He bit his lip.
“Well I saw you watching me on stage so I thought maybe…well a pretty girl like you just might want to um…have a sort of date night with me?” he said, finishing the statement with a question while he held one eye closed and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. It took me a moment to comprehend.
“You’re asking me on a date?” I uttered, mouth agape and eyes narrowed in disbelief, “You’re kidding right?”
“Yeah I knew it was stupid to ask…” he replied with slight dejection.
“I mean but why would you ask me?” I questioned, unable to help the idiocy leaping from my mouth. Why did I have to ask questions? Why couldn’t I just say yes? Oh yeah…because I would embarrass myself if he was joking.
“You like me don’t you? Granted I’m smelly and you’re smelly but you’re pretty so it makes up for it so uh…” he blabbered, seeming uncontrolled in his thoughts as well. I blushed.
“Are you serious?” I whispered, “Like this isn’t a cruel joke?”
My shy side came with other impediments like self consciousness. I was not the pretty girl who got asked on dates, I was the girl who ended up in a band full of boys who saw me as their sister. I wasn’t the datable type, nor the outgoing type. I didn’t flirt or try to be conspicuous with the opposite sex. So this…this offer was unheard of to me so perhaps that’s why it seemed so impossible.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, raising a brow. I swallowed and nodded.
“Alright then,” I uttered nervously, “I would love to.”
***
It’s hard to believe we have lasted this long. Two years doesn’t seem like a lengthy time period to most people, but between touring and other things, I don’t know how we have managed. The fights were the worst, but mostly on my part. We would fight and he would laugh at my anger, saying that I was cute or some shit like that. Maybe that’s the secret to a good relationship, hell a near perfect one: don’t worry, just be happy as Bob Dylan would say.
“Goddammit Alex!” I screamed, chucking my cellphone at him from the couch, “Another tour?! I thought you said you were going to take a break from that for a little while so we could have some time!”
He sighed, “I’m sorry, they booked one more and then-”
“And then we’ll have our time,” I whispered.
He had said this before, said it a thousand and one times but I had yet to see the results of his false words of promise. We hadn’t had hardly any time together in the past year. Out of twelve months I think I saw him for thirty days and that wasn’t even in one time span. Thirty days separate that counted maybe seeing him for one evening at a time, perhaps two or three if I had hit the jackpot. But still…it was growing more and more hopeless and I was becoming more and more impatient.
This wasn’t the usual me. I didn’t typically yell or grow jealous…hell most of the time I was too shy to speak but I just couldn’t take it any longer. I watched my brunette locks spill over my shoulders while my head hung limply in my hands. I wanted to cry, to scream, to curl up in a ball and let the nothingness take over. I hated when he left and this would be just another three months he’d be gone.
When I looked up, he had disappeared and I wilted.
Had he left without saying goodbye? He couldn’t! He wouldn’t! I wouldn’t let him leave in the middle of a fight because what happened if I didn’t see him again? The tears began to roll.
“Alex wait! Don’t leave yet I just…can we…I don’t know,” I called pathetically, falling into sobs as the last words left my lips.
Suddenly he came out of our room and I was in hysterics.
The boys liked to play football sometimes and on some days would leave their gear here by accident. Last weekend had been one of those occasions and as Alex came out of the room, he was sporting one of the football helmets.
He held his hands out in front of him, one hand grasping a white pair of boxers that he waved gently. I was laughing at him with uncontrolled vigor while he stared at me as though I were some sort of wild animal out to attack him. His steps were cautious as he made his way out of the bedroom, still waving the boxers.
“Is it safe to come out now?” he asked and I doubled over, “Has the psycho left my beautiful girlfriend?”
“I don’t know, has it?” I replied, suddenly rushing after him.
He laughed and caught me in his tight embrace, holding me close while I nuzzled into his warmth. The tears were long gone, but the streaks of makeup still lingering were visible to him. He sighed and wiped them away gently.
“I know it’s hard,” he whispered, “But would you stay with me? I don’t want to lose you…I promise if the next tour doesn’t have a large break in between after this one, I won’t go. The guys will just have to understand.” I blushed.
“You’d do that for me?” I whispered.
“Jillian, I would do anything for you.”
Those words echoed in my mind for a few moments while I drank in the memory. It wasn’t particularly happy, but at the same time I couldn’t make it any better than what it was. That was our last fight since he had gone on tour and my band was recording our newest record “We Make Our Own Rules”. it was going smoothly, but while Alex was gone I had hit a standstill in my writing. The lyrics just weren’t coming to mind and I knew why.
I missed him terribly.
Sure he called every night to let me know the show had gone great, they were on their way to their next spot and to tell me how much he loved me. It was all well but still sometimes it just didn’t feel like enough. It was selfish, I know, but I wanted to spend some alone time with him and get my brain back on the right track.
I sighed and put the sheet of paper I had been doodling on for the past hour down before flicking on the television.
But just as I did, there was a knock.
I raised an eyebrow and slid off the couch lazily to stroll to the doorway and see who would be bothering me this evening. The sun had already gone down, the boys in my band were out drinking again and I was at home, missing my boyfriend. It sucked but perhaps some company would cheer me up.
As I unlocked the door, I heard the rustle of plastic. What the fuck?
I opened it all the way and there he stood with a bouquet of beautiful flowers, ones that only a boy could pick out. They weren’t your fancy shmancy type of blooms, but they were the most beautiful sight. He was holding them, he picked them out…and he was home early. The lopsided smile gracing his lips made my heart skip a few beats and caused my head to stop working for a moment.
“Hey Jill,” he whispered, but that was all he could get out before I grasped his hand, yanking him inside and pressing my lips to his.
What can I say…he brought out the gregarious extrovert in me.