Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Lasting Impressions
Author's Note: Okay. So it's official. This fic is dedicated to doyleangel and let_it_go. You two are awesome. Fo' real.
Hope you guys like this one.
Young love.
“8-letter term for an unlicensed copy of fashion, clothing or purses.”
“Knockoff,” I replied as if Alex Trebek could hear me. Player 3 buzzed in just as the word left my lips.
“What is a knockoff?” the lanky blonde said.
“Correct for $200. Pick the next category.”
I read somewhere that the only point of TV game shows was to make people find value in the otherwise useless facts that they learn in school. At first I thought it was ridiculous, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I mean, under what other circumstances will I need to know the atomic number of neon (10), or what type of animal one would find in a museum’s hymenoptera exhibit (bees)?
The sudden ringing of my cell phone caused me to set my carton of egg foo yung back onto the coffee table. Raising my hips, I reached into my back pocket and fished out the slim device.
“Hello?”
“Chloe, it’s Steph--”
“It’s the ninth astrological sign.”
“Sagittarius,” I quickly responded.
“Huh?” Chloe said.
“Oh, sorry. I’m watching Jeopardy. What were you saying?”
“What time are we gonna meet up at the concert?”
“Concert?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“No, of course I didn’t forget…” I got off the couch and made my way toward the refrigerator. Dry erase calendar to the rescue. “…Today’s the Myspace Music Tour.”
“Good save,” she commented. “Since doors open at 5, I was thinking we could be there around 4:30 and just push our way to the barricade”
“Sounds good. See you later.”
“Bye.”
I glanced at the time before setting my phone onto the kitchen counter. 3:17PM. It would take about half an hour to get dressed and do my hair, and another half hour to get to the venue.
“J.K. Rowling wrote her first novel in a café in this Scottish capital.”
“Edinburg,” I replied, turning off the TV. I didn’t have much time to spare.
As planned, I arrived an hour later. Scene kids, wannabe scene kids, and kids who make fun of wannabe scene kids had already formed a long line outside of the venue. I quickly found a spot behind a brunette with pale blue eyes and a Glamour Kills t-shirt.
“Shit, what took you so long?” I asked, standing against the side of a grimy bar adjacent to the venue. It was 4:55 and to the dismay of the couple in standing in back of me, Stephanie hooked her arm with mine.
“Sorry, I couldn’t find parking,” she replied. The aforementioned couple--a girl with an uneven haircut and a boy with a fitted cap and holes in his checkered Vans-- gave us the stink eye and muttered expletives underneath their breath.
The line soon moved forward, and within minutes we made it past security and toward the stage. Though inside, there was still an hour before the show would actually begin. To pass the time, Stephanie and I talked about guys (she and her boyfriend, Kevin, were going through a rough patch), school (we both had papers for psychology due) and the latest celebrity gossip (how Brangelina was planning on adopting yet another kid).
Sound check finished. Lights dimmed. People cheered.
Suddenly there was a group of Asians running onto the stage, all of them wearing sunglasses and matching orange jumpsuits.
“Hello, Maryland!” Hiro excitedly said into the microphone with a thick Japanese accent. “We are the Polysics and we are going to play some music for you!”
Heavy guitar riffs filled the air and the crowd was in motion.
In one word, their set was energetic. Imagine four really cute anime characters. Now picture them hopped up on speed and let loose at GuitarCenter. It was kind of like that. I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but it was pure entertainment nonetheless.
After the Polysics left the stage, but before the next band went on, the crowd surged forward. Although there were still two openers left, everyone around me seemed desperate for the barricade. Thanks to our great sense of direction, flexible legs and relentless elbows, Steph and I found ourselves about ten feet away from the stage at the end of sound check. Not too bad.
Young Love hit the stage and I was shoved a foot closer to the front. You would think I’d have a better view, but my view was constricted to the sweaty blue shirt of the guy in front of me.
As “Too Young To Fight It” reverberated throughout the room, I felt a huge shove come from the girl on my left. I knocked into Steph and within seconds, angry retaliation swept in from the right. Though I grabbed onto her arm, she got pulled toward the back, and before I could even turn to see where she was, another girl had rushed in next to me.
This relentless cycle continued a couple more times, and I eventually found myself holding onto sweaty blue shirt’s waist to keep my balance.
He looked over his shoulder and moved his lips, but I couldn’t hear anything he said.
“What?” I yelled over the music.
“Are you okay?” he replied, matching my volume.
“Yeah, sorry about grabbing onto you.”
“S’okay.”
Another surge toward the barricade pressed my face into his shoulder.
“I’m Eric, by the way,” sweaty blue shirt said, holding his ground.
“Chloe.”
“Listen, I have a plan to get further up. Just follow my lead.” I nodded against his back.
“Outta the way, my girlfriend’s gonna be sick!”
And just like that, the area in front of us parted like the Red Sea. Sure, everyone wanted to get to the front, but they would rather avoid projectile vomit.
Due to our little stunt, Eric and I had switched places, and we were 3 people away from the front by the end of the set. While waves of people attempted to push past us, his arms were tightly wrapped around my waist, anchoring our place.
While roadies switched out the drum kit and set up for Hellogoodbye, the crowd calmed down. We’d all been jumping around and screaming lyrics for well over an hour, so it only made sense that we chill out for a little while.
“So who’d you come out here to see?” he asked as MCS played in the background.
“Hellogoodbye and Say Anything,” I said, feeling relief in my right side. The guy next to me had finally moved his elbow. “You?”
“Same.”
Now that the lights stopped flashing and we weren’t getting tossed around like rag dolls, I had a chance to look at my sweaty savior. He was a good six inches taller than me. Nice smile. Green eyes. Brown hair. There were a lot of girls who wouldn’t mind being in my position.
“Have you seen either of them before?”
“Yeah. I went to Two Months of Spring Break and saw Hellogoodbye,” I replied
“Hush Sound and Boys Like Girls were openers, right?”
He knew his stuff.
“Yeah. Did you go?”
“Mhmm. When Martin went crowd surfing, he kicked me in the face.”
“Ouch.” For a moment I pictured him with a black eye. He was cute nonetheless.
“Yeah. But it was a good show and I got to meet the band afterwards. Definitely worth the stitches.”
“Eric?” someone asked from behind us. He had shaggy blonde hair and gauged ears.
“Justin? I thought you were still in the back.”
“I crowdsurfed up.”
“Where’s Sara?”
“Dunno. I lost her somewhere.” He laughed.
“You’re in deep shit.”
“Whatever, she can bitch at me later,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Hey, aren’t you gonna introduce me?”
“Oh, sorry. This is Chloe.”
“Justin,” he said with a warm smile. “I’d shake your hand if I could, but…yeah.”
Lights dimmed once again. Cheering erupted throughout. Crowd collapsed back into excited mode.
Forrest led the way onto the stage and quickly started playing “All Of Your Love.”
With the exception of “Jesse Buy Nothing… Go To Prom Anyways,” Hellogoodbye is one of the bands you typically don’t thrash to. But that didn’t stop the girls in front of us. It was kind of amusing, but mostly annoying to watch as they flailed around, screaming lyrics at the top of their lungs.
“We really need to get in front of them,” he said.
“I know. Any ideas?”
“We could obnoxiously thrash into them.”
“With those spastic elbows going, I might get an eye taken out.”
“Nah, I’ll protect you,” he said, tightening his grip on my waist.
We’d only known each other for an hour, but I felt like we’d been friends for… Well, not “forever,” because that would be utterly cliché, but I felt at home with him. I guess being exhausted, drenched in sweat and pressed against him had that effect on me.
As “Two Weeks In Hawaii” played, his chin was rested on my shoulder as we swayed to the sound of Forrest’s voice. It reminded me of the way “Hey There Delilah” always brought down the house, calming a discordant ocean of limbs to a synchronized waving of hands, lighters and cell phones. It was an auditory opiate of sorts. An almost lullaby.
While the girls who were spazzing in front of us finally started to chill out, Eric and I banked on the opportunity. We carefully made our way past them and I subtly took hold of the metal barricade in front of me.
Before I knew it, Forrest was announcing their last song of the night. The crowd bunched together once again, and for once there was no one blocking my view of the stage.
“I like where we are
When we drive in your car
I like where we are
Here”
I couldn’t help but smile when he tightened his hold on my waist and pressed his head against mine. “Your hair smells like strawberries,” he commented.
“Cause our lips can touch
And our cheeks can brush
Our lips can touch
Here”
It all seemed too good to be true. Lights were dimmed. An electro pop love song was playing in the background. A cute guy had his arms wrapped around me. We were standing front and center of the stage. Cliché as it was, I pinched myself just to make sure I was awake. The sharp feeling of my nails told me it was real.
Slowly, I turned my head to look up at him. Green eyes met brown. As we leaned toward each other, it felt like we were simultaneously going in slow motion and fast forward. The rest of the room seemed synchronized in their actions, but we were in our own little bubble where his lips were pressed against mine. While the band kept playing, crowdsurfers kept crowdsurfing, and people around us kept pushing forward, Eric held onto me and we kept kissing.
“…Now there’s no place else I could be than here in your arms.”
+++++
Yes, yes. I'm aware that Gaskarth nor any of the other ATL boys made an appearance in this chapter, but as I told the readers on mibba, good things come to those who wait ;)
Reviews = Love = Updates.
PS. If you haven't already, go check out Good Charlotte's Greatest Remixes CD. There's some pretty interesting stuff on there, including a remix of "Little Things" by Patrick Stump.
Hope you guys like this one.
Young love.
“8-letter term for an unlicensed copy of fashion, clothing or purses.”
“Knockoff,” I replied as if Alex Trebek could hear me. Player 3 buzzed in just as the word left my lips.
“What is a knockoff?” the lanky blonde said.
“Correct for $200. Pick the next category.”
I read somewhere that the only point of TV game shows was to make people find value in the otherwise useless facts that they learn in school. At first I thought it was ridiculous, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I mean, under what other circumstances will I need to know the atomic number of neon (10), or what type of animal one would find in a museum’s hymenoptera exhibit (bees)?
The sudden ringing of my cell phone caused me to set my carton of egg foo yung back onto the coffee table. Raising my hips, I reached into my back pocket and fished out the slim device.
“Hello?”
“Chloe, it’s Steph--”
“It’s the ninth astrological sign.”
“Sagittarius,” I quickly responded.
“Huh?” Chloe said.
“Oh, sorry. I’m watching Jeopardy. What were you saying?”
“What time are we gonna meet up at the concert?”
“Concert?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“No, of course I didn’t forget…” I got off the couch and made my way toward the refrigerator. Dry erase calendar to the rescue. “…Today’s the Myspace Music Tour.”
“Good save,” she commented. “Since doors open at 5, I was thinking we could be there around 4:30 and just push our way to the barricade”
“Sounds good. See you later.”
“Bye.”
I glanced at the time before setting my phone onto the kitchen counter. 3:17PM. It would take about half an hour to get dressed and do my hair, and another half hour to get to the venue.
“J.K. Rowling wrote her first novel in a café in this Scottish capital.”
“Edinburg,” I replied, turning off the TV. I didn’t have much time to spare.
As planned, I arrived an hour later. Scene kids, wannabe scene kids, and kids who make fun of wannabe scene kids had already formed a long line outside of the venue. I quickly found a spot behind a brunette with pale blue eyes and a Glamour Kills t-shirt.
“Shit, what took you so long?” I asked, standing against the side of a grimy bar adjacent to the venue. It was 4:55 and to the dismay of the couple in standing in back of me, Stephanie hooked her arm with mine.
“Sorry, I couldn’t find parking,” she replied. The aforementioned couple--a girl with an uneven haircut and a boy with a fitted cap and holes in his checkered Vans-- gave us the stink eye and muttered expletives underneath their breath.
The line soon moved forward, and within minutes we made it past security and toward the stage. Though inside, there was still an hour before the show would actually begin. To pass the time, Stephanie and I talked about guys (she and her boyfriend, Kevin, were going through a rough patch), school (we both had papers for psychology due) and the latest celebrity gossip (how Brangelina was planning on adopting yet another kid).
Sound check finished. Lights dimmed. People cheered.
Suddenly there was a group of Asians running onto the stage, all of them wearing sunglasses and matching orange jumpsuits.
“Hello, Maryland!” Hiro excitedly said into the microphone with a thick Japanese accent. “We are the Polysics and we are going to play some music for you!”
Heavy guitar riffs filled the air and the crowd was in motion.
In one word, their set was energetic. Imagine four really cute anime characters. Now picture them hopped up on speed and let loose at GuitarCenter. It was kind of like that. I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but it was pure entertainment nonetheless.
After the Polysics left the stage, but before the next band went on, the crowd surged forward. Although there were still two openers left, everyone around me seemed desperate for the barricade. Thanks to our great sense of direction, flexible legs and relentless elbows, Steph and I found ourselves about ten feet away from the stage at the end of sound check. Not too bad.
Young Love hit the stage and I was shoved a foot closer to the front. You would think I’d have a better view, but my view was constricted to the sweaty blue shirt of the guy in front of me.
As “Too Young To Fight It” reverberated throughout the room, I felt a huge shove come from the girl on my left. I knocked into Steph and within seconds, angry retaliation swept in from the right. Though I grabbed onto her arm, she got pulled toward the back, and before I could even turn to see where she was, another girl had rushed in next to me.
This relentless cycle continued a couple more times, and I eventually found myself holding onto sweaty blue shirt’s waist to keep my balance.
He looked over his shoulder and moved his lips, but I couldn’t hear anything he said.
“What?” I yelled over the music.
“Are you okay?” he replied, matching my volume.
“Yeah, sorry about grabbing onto you.”
“S’okay.”
Another surge toward the barricade pressed my face into his shoulder.
“I’m Eric, by the way,” sweaty blue shirt said, holding his ground.
“Chloe.”
“Listen, I have a plan to get further up. Just follow my lead.” I nodded against his back.
“Outta the way, my girlfriend’s gonna be sick!”
And just like that, the area in front of us parted like the Red Sea. Sure, everyone wanted to get to the front, but they would rather avoid projectile vomit.
Due to our little stunt, Eric and I had switched places, and we were 3 people away from the front by the end of the set. While waves of people attempted to push past us, his arms were tightly wrapped around my waist, anchoring our place.
While roadies switched out the drum kit and set up for Hellogoodbye, the crowd calmed down. We’d all been jumping around and screaming lyrics for well over an hour, so it only made sense that we chill out for a little while.
“So who’d you come out here to see?” he asked as MCS played in the background.
“Hellogoodbye and Say Anything,” I said, feeling relief in my right side. The guy next to me had finally moved his elbow. “You?”
“Same.”
Now that the lights stopped flashing and we weren’t getting tossed around like rag dolls, I had a chance to look at my sweaty savior. He was a good six inches taller than me. Nice smile. Green eyes. Brown hair. There were a lot of girls who wouldn’t mind being in my position.
“Have you seen either of them before?”
“Yeah. I went to Two Months of Spring Break and saw Hellogoodbye,” I replied
“Hush Sound and Boys Like Girls were openers, right?”
He knew his stuff.
“Yeah. Did you go?”
“Mhmm. When Martin went crowd surfing, he kicked me in the face.”
“Ouch.” For a moment I pictured him with a black eye. He was cute nonetheless.
“Yeah. But it was a good show and I got to meet the band afterwards. Definitely worth the stitches.”
“Eric?” someone asked from behind us. He had shaggy blonde hair and gauged ears.
“Justin? I thought you were still in the back.”
“I crowdsurfed up.”
“Where’s Sara?”
“Dunno. I lost her somewhere.” He laughed.
“You’re in deep shit.”
“Whatever, she can bitch at me later,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Hey, aren’t you gonna introduce me?”
“Oh, sorry. This is Chloe.”
“Justin,” he said with a warm smile. “I’d shake your hand if I could, but…yeah.”
Lights dimmed once again. Cheering erupted throughout. Crowd collapsed back into excited mode.
Forrest led the way onto the stage and quickly started playing “All Of Your Love.”
With the exception of “Jesse Buy Nothing… Go To Prom Anyways,” Hellogoodbye is one of the bands you typically don’t thrash to. But that didn’t stop the girls in front of us. It was kind of amusing, but mostly annoying to watch as they flailed around, screaming lyrics at the top of their lungs.
“We really need to get in front of them,” he said.
“I know. Any ideas?”
“We could obnoxiously thrash into them.”
“With those spastic elbows going, I might get an eye taken out.”
“Nah, I’ll protect you,” he said, tightening his grip on my waist.
We’d only known each other for an hour, but I felt like we’d been friends for… Well, not “forever,” because that would be utterly cliché, but I felt at home with him. I guess being exhausted, drenched in sweat and pressed against him had that effect on me.
As “Two Weeks In Hawaii” played, his chin was rested on my shoulder as we swayed to the sound of Forrest’s voice. It reminded me of the way “Hey There Delilah” always brought down the house, calming a discordant ocean of limbs to a synchronized waving of hands, lighters and cell phones. It was an auditory opiate of sorts. An almost lullaby.
While the girls who were spazzing in front of us finally started to chill out, Eric and I banked on the opportunity. We carefully made our way past them and I subtly took hold of the metal barricade in front of me.
Before I knew it, Forrest was announcing their last song of the night. The crowd bunched together once again, and for once there was no one blocking my view of the stage.
“I like where we are
When we drive in your car
I like where we are
Here”
I couldn’t help but smile when he tightened his hold on my waist and pressed his head against mine. “Your hair smells like strawberries,” he commented.
“Cause our lips can touch
And our cheeks can brush
Our lips can touch
Here”
It all seemed too good to be true. Lights were dimmed. An electro pop love song was playing in the background. A cute guy had his arms wrapped around me. We were standing front and center of the stage. Cliché as it was, I pinched myself just to make sure I was awake. The sharp feeling of my nails told me it was real.
Slowly, I turned my head to look up at him. Green eyes met brown. As we leaned toward each other, it felt like we were simultaneously going in slow motion and fast forward. The rest of the room seemed synchronized in their actions, but we were in our own little bubble where his lips were pressed against mine. While the band kept playing, crowdsurfers kept crowdsurfing, and people around us kept pushing forward, Eric held onto me and we kept kissing.
“…Now there’s no place else I could be than here in your arms.”
+++++
Yes, yes. I'm aware that Gaskarth nor any of the other ATL boys made an appearance in this chapter, but as I told the readers on mibba, good things come to those who wait ;)
Reviews = Love = Updates.
PS. If you haven't already, go check out Good Charlotte's Greatest Remixes CD. There's some pretty interesting stuff on there, including a remix of "Little Things" by Patrick Stump.
Sign up to rate and review this story