FicWad

1. US AND THEM

“Weren’t you at the Cold Play concert just last week?” A guy in a green Vector Arena STAFF shirt bellowed at me over the buzz of the excited crowd.
I smiled and bellowed back, “Yeah! But there’s no way in hell that I would miss Fall Out Boy!” I wiped my sweaty fringe out of my face.
I should have had some dinner… Or lunch… or breakfast, I thought to myself as a wave of dizziness struck me by surprise.
“Are you OK? You look green!” he yelled worriedly, reaching out and steadying me with his arms which was completely unnecessary because the tight packed crowd had me propped up on my feet any way, plus, I had my left hand securely clamped to the barrier that separated me from the stage.
I nodded frantically; even though my brain rattled in my skull there was no way that I was going to get sent home before the band that I worshipped made their way onto the stage.
“Are you sure? You’re clammy as!” his hand was n my forearm. “I don’t want you to be fainting or puking in the mosh pit!”
Neither do I buddy.
“I’m fine!” His concern touched me. It didn’t seem that many people gave a flying fuck about me lately.
He didn’t look convinced. I wouldn’t be either, everyone else around me was red and sweaty, and my skin felt like I had just walked out of a freezer room.
But he shrugged any way, “Tell me if you are, I can pull you out and I’ll let you use the backstage toilets!” He offered with a wink.
I nodded, smiling.
“Working here must be so fun!”
His eyes widened in agreement and he nodded his head vigorously. “Hell yes! You get to meet so many awesome people and have Meet’n’Greets with all the big bands!”
I smiled and scanned his face. He was kind of cute; he had sandy blonde hair, nicely tanned skin, electric blue eyes that glowed in the dim light and a cute little cleft in his chin. Cute, but totally not my type; if I compared him beside Jackson, the contrast would fill the Pacific Ocean!
Tanned to pale; blonde to black; clean shaven to prickly stubble… and that’s just appearances. Not to mention that I couldn’t see any piercing, tattoos or other ‘under the skin’ jewelry that was blatantly obvious.
There was a yell from back stage and the crowd closed in tighter, lights popped in front of my eyes and I gasped for air.
“Whoa!” soft hands cupped my face and patted my cheek lightly. A deeper, amplified voice roared over the crowd. “Everybody! Take four steps back! Four steps! EVERYBODY!”
Then my blonde guy called into his radio “I need a hand down here Dave, help me pull this one out.”
“NO!” I came round and steadied myself to the barrier once more. “No! I’m fine! Honestly.” I yelled to the guy that was trying to pull me forward.
I struggled to keep my feet on the ground. “Not a chance girly.” The deeper voice said , hauling me out of the crowd my arms.
I looked back; my place had instantly been filled.
Like maggots on an open wound.
“Awwwww! I’m never going to get that spot back!” I complained while I was being set down on the ground gently. My head pounded and the blonde guy steadied me.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that, you slurred too much! Are you drunk?”
Ha! “I wish.” I groaned while another wave of nausea struck me.
He gently led me around to the back.
“Have you taken anything?” he didn’t have to yell now, it seemed like the roaring crowd was almost silenced once we had a curtain between us and them.
He set me down on an unplugged amplifier; none of the other staff noticed me while they bustled around hurriedly all with the same annoyed frown on his or her face.
I shook my head slowly, not wanting to rattle my brain again but deciding that opening my mouth wasn’t the best decision either. The volume of the crowd was increased when they all began chanting in unison, “FALL OUT BOY! FALL OUT BOY! FALL OUT BOY!”
My head swam and bile rose in my throat, it was the only thing that could come up from my stomach.
“Here, have some water.” He shoved a pump bottle in my hand and popped the cap for me.
I took a huge mouthful. The cold fluid washed most of the horrible bile taste back down my throat.
“Better?”
I nodded, “Heck yeah.”
He smiled in relief. “Sorry I had you pulled out. Are you here on your own?”
I looked at my feet and nodded.
He shrugged, “sweet, I’ll go get you a VIP shirt and you can hang with me if you feel up to it that is? I don’t want to make you go back into the crowd.”
I nodded again, “I think I’ll take you up on that in a minute, for now I think I might stay seated until this passes.” I rubbed my forehead.
He smiled happily like a child with a new toy, “That’s cool, I’ll jus go grab that shirt. Be right back, don’t move.”
What a nice guy… Whatever he’s hoping for after the show is sooo not gonna happen.
I rested my head in my hands, tonight was definitely not the best night to go to a concert. I listened to the hustle of the stage crew; all I could decipher was that something important as missing and that someone was likely to be fired.
Blondie came dashing back as fast as he had left, and this time he was holding a shirt that was the same fluorescent green as his.
The color triggered something in my brain that made me retch. Maybe it was the likeness between the color of the shirt and puke? I’m not sure.
“Uh, where did you say that the bathroom was?”
I was gone before he could finish pointing it out.
My hands slapped on the door as I ran through. There wasn’t a male or female, just one large toilet.
I didn’t quite get around to locking the door behind me before the only thing I could hear was my own retching.
I closed my eyes and let the moisture leak out of the corners. I didn’t look into the toilet; it would make me sick even worse. I knew that I looked a mess; my hair had come down in the mosh pit, my makeup was running down my face with the unstoppable tears that came hand in hand every time I puked.
Another bout of vomit rushed up my esophagus and more tears leaked from my tightly pinched eyes, I hadn’t been feeling well all week; I supposed that this was well overdue.
Smooth hands gathered my hair at the nape of my neck and brushed the stray wisps from my face then held my hair in place and rubbed my back in small comforting circles.
“Go on, get it all out.”
His voice was oddly familiar, like from a dream almost. But I was too distracted to look into it much.
I retched again, and again.
He soothed me gently with whispers of “it’s alright,” and “there we go.”
When the worst of it was over I slumped down sitting on the floor of the bathroom with my back against the wall.
“Are you okay now?” his voice was inked in concern; more genuine than the blonde guy that was probably keeping the hell away from me for fear that I puked on him.
I didn’t answer. I tried to concentrate on my breathing. All the bad feelings and nausea were melting away. If I knew that all I needed was to puke I would have done it three days ago.
“What a bad time to meet someone like me huh?”
I knew why his voice was like a dream, because his words were spoken airily. Like that Trelawny woman in the Harry Potter books.
I shook my head in my hands.
“I haven’t quite come to the realization of who you are just yet… No offence.”
He laughed melodically.
I looked up.
I suppose I knew from the shoes. Gold and silver high-top air forces, purple skinny jeans, a yellow shirt with the tip of a black outline showed through the v-neck collar of his lime green hooded jacket. His face was set in a patient expression while I scanned him. His hair was perfectly set, the fringe covering the top half of his right eye—my right that is. My eyes must have been popping out of my face as I looked, well OK, stared.
“Hi.” I said breathlessly.
“Hey,” He smiled and dazzled me with his perfectly straight, glistening pearly whites. “Now I’m not sure if you’re meant to be back here… but I won’t say anything. He outreached a hand to help me up. I accepted.
I was pulled smoothly and swiftly to my feet, but the motion caused another random but of nausea to have me on my knees in the fetal position in front of the toilet bowel once again with my eyes tightly shut.
He was quick. He had my hair entwined in his fingers and held it at the nape of my neck again and softly rubbed my back.
I tried not to think of the fact that Pete Wentz was helping me vomit my intestines up.
When I retreated from the bowel and opened my eyes, he was crouched in front of me with a wary expression in his liquid amber eyes.
I most ungraciously clambered up the small, stainless steel basin and splashed my face with icy water, and then I fell back on my heels and stared wide eyed into his face.
He stared back.
I suddenly realized what everyone was so worried about losing: The bass player.
A small smile was playing on his lips and he opened his mouth to talk but I got there first.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m playing tonight.” Obviously
I shook my head, “I mean here.”
He rolled his eyes. “I was on my way to take a leak when I heard you power chucking—speaking of which…” he pulled the flush lever on the toilet, “so instead of ignoring a fan in need…besides the door was open and I couldn’t resist. Especially seeing how you looked so good from behind.” He said playfully.
It was my turn to roll my eyes now. I laughed too.
Arrgh! Breakthrough!
“I wish.” I said hoarsely.
He smiled and shook his head disappointedly, “girls these days do t give themselves enough credit.”
“Well then, I suppose I should say ‘thank-you’.” I wiped around the edge of my eyes with my index finger, probably smudging my eye make-up even more.
He stood up again and offered me his hand.
“Slowly this time,”
“No need to tell me twice.”
His arm wound around my waist as I was halfway up and he held me to him, even after I was comfortably on my own feet; although no complaints from me.
He’s married! You got over the stupid obsession! Don’t go back there! You have a boyfriend!
My conscience was screaming at me from the depths of my mind that I had long since been ignoring.
“I know this is strange,” he breathed softly and quietly, “but I have an airline toothbrush kit in my pocket.” He withdrew a small plastic casing.
He opened it up, revealing small two piece toothbrush and miniature toothpaste.
“I stopped caring about ‘strange’ when I got to high school.” I answered, accepting the kit with gratitude spelled out on my face.
“You’re absence is causing a riot out there.” I mentioned, hating myself for bringing it up the same moment that the words had left me.
He nodded but he didn’t move. I unwound myself from his arm unwillingly. I wished that this slightly awkward moment could last a little bit longer. I brushed my teeth thoroughly and gargled—twice, rinsing everything down the plughole in the small basin.
When I turned back, he was still there.
“That was helpful, thank-you.”
He smiled and nodded, “no problem. Feeling better?” He moved towards me, reaching out his hand and placing the back of his other hand on my forehead.
“Are you sick?”
I looked into his face carefully and shook my head. “That was it.”
I had never known anyone to act so strange.
Like he had known me more than ten minutes and I wasn’t a potentially obsessive fan that had the plot of the movie ‘Misery’ running through my mind.
I noticed that the dilation of his pupils was unnaturally wide, and the whites of his eyes were blood shot.
Whatever he had taken, it was quite obvious to me now that he wasn’t quite on the planet.
I kept staring because I could and I knew he wouldn’t care.
It’s not everyday that a rock star offers you a toothbrush.
I smiled stupidly.
“What are you on?”
He put a finger to his lips.
“sssssssssh”
I nodded in understanding and he pulled me closer.
He stroked a finger down from my hair line to my jaw.
Naughty! Don’t do this! Think of Jackson!
There was a battle going on in my head.
Shut up Jiminy Cricket!
I brushed a random string of hair out of his eyes, careful not to disturb the perfect fringe.
He drew me in once again, his intentions clearly written on his face.
Did I care that we were in the backstage toilets of vector arena?
HELL NO!
Did he care that I had just puked—three times?
Obviously not.
He caressed my cheek with the palm of his hand.
My body instantly melted to fit the contours of his.
His eyes were dark and heavy and I subconsciously gave in.
“There’s no turning back after this. Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“Are you?”
His answer was obvious.
I twisted my hands up around his neck and drew his face to mine.
I had my own brand of ecstasy in my blood stream, and whatever electricity that was coursing through his veins was conducted into my own the instant that our lips met.