~~ I just finished drying my long black hair when someone knocked on the door. I sighed and made my way to the door, opening it slowly.
“You’re still in your pajamas?” said Ronnie as she abruptly pushed passed me into my apartment and I followed her
“I just don’t know what to wear.” I said as Ronnie turned on my TV. She always knew how to make herself at home when she came over.
“Just wear what you were going to wear. That’s what I did.” I looked over at Ronnie. She had a black and white corset with a plaid design on with short black shorts and fishnets.
“I would, but we have to help set up.” I groaned. I didn’t like the idea of possibly heavy labor.
“So?” she said bluntly. “There is nothing wrong with working and looking hot while doing it.” She smirked.
“Alright.” I said as I left Ronnie and went into my small bedroom. She had a point. Why would I want a hot band member to see me in gross cloths? I could look fucking sexy while I do slave work for a hot band.
I pulled out my slim black corset with metal clasps holding it together like buttons. I put on my short ripped jean shorts and a pair of black combat boots. I then put on thick black eyeliner that looked good with my blue green eyes. I found a subtle red lipstick that ended up looking really good.
“Do I look ok?” I asked Ronnie nervously, who was watching some show on MTV.
“Yeah, do I?” She looked me up and down. I could tell she was about as nervous as I
“Yep. Ready to go?” I pulled on my short black leather jacket and flung my black purse over my shoulder.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Ronnie grinned and followed me out the door, into the cold night air.
The second we walked into the pub Mr. Abbot approached us. He clapped excitedly, and smiled at us.
“Ok good, you’re here. I thought you changed your minds and were waiting in line outside.” He laughed sarcastically.
“Nope, we’re here.” said Ronnie, trying to play it cool. On the inside, she was obviously jumping and screaming like a common fan.
“I was talking to the bands and one of them is going to set up with you. Promise me that you won’t freak out.” Mr. Abbot looked at me briefly, but looked to Ronnie with more concern. I totally understood.
“What band? Don’t they have crew?” I was just curious about the crew thing. Only because I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do too much work. What I really wanted to know is what band.
“It’s one of their first tours so the other bands want them to set up, and no The Relapse Symphony does not have a crew.” Mr. Abbot spoke slowly, still eyeing Ronnie for any sign of a break down.
“We’re setting up with The Relapse Symphony!?!” Ronnie and I squealed excitedly at the same time. My heart practically jumped out of my chest. I felt like the butterflies in my stomach were head banging to AA or something!
“Stop stealing my thoughts!” I hit Ronnie’s arm laughing. We say the same thing at the same time a lot, which is usually horrifying for other people. It’s just how you can tell how close of friends we really were.
“Just don’t do that when you help them. Please don’t embarrass me.” Sighed an annoyed Mr. Abbot. He walked away into the back so Ronnie and I sat at one of the tables.
A few minutes passed and them Mr. Abbot called us into the back room. We walked excitedly, and I tried to calm my nerves. Were the rooms closing in on me? Was I on drugs? No. I’m just about to meet The Relapse Symphony. That’s just about the same thing though.
“Girls, this is Bret Von Dehl. Bret, this is Ronnie and Casey.” Mr. Abbot talked to him like he was a regular customer. Clearly he’d never heard his music. On the inside I’m freaking out. My hands are shaking a little bit. Here is the lead singer of my favorite band standing in front of me. His black hair was puffed up at the top and his bangs fell in his pale face. He had spider bites, which suited him well. He was wearing his sunglasses and a black leather jacket. His shirt was black with a white skull on it and he had black skinny jeans on. He is so much hotter in person.
“Hey guys, ready to help?” said Bret. He talked like he had no idea that he was literally killing me with his beauty.
“Uh…yeah, I guess.” I said quietly and looked down at the floor. I wanted to avoid awkward eye contact. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.
“Alright, come on.” Bret led us out to the tour busses. Boxes and crates with the bands names on them were piled everywhere. I looked around the corner to look at the line. About fifteen people stood in line and started freaking out when Alex, Tyler, Brandon and JC walked by on the other side of the street. They made their way back over to the tour busses.
“This is Ronnie and Casey. They’re helping us set up.” Said Bret, motioning to the two of us with a smile. The guys all smiled at us and nodded.
We all grabbed boxes and crates and brought them into the stage downstairs. The guys started putting the opening band’s drum set together while Ronnie and I started setting up the merch tables. Three tables were out and we had about twenty boxes of merch. The headliner, Blood on the Dance Floor, got a full table for their merch and the other two tables were to be split between the three featuring bands. We put samples of posters, CDs, hats, bracelets and, necklaces on the tables. The examples of the shirts were hanging up on the wall behind the tables and the merch for sale was in boxes behind the table.
“Why did you leave that crate on the stage?” I asked Bret, laughing a bit as I leaned over the stage struggling with the cord on the microphone.
“So we can stand on it so the people in the back can see us better.” He said with a smile as he climbed up onto it. It’s actually nice that he’s considerate of the people in the back.
“I see.” I laughed. I was still struggling with that damn cord. I had my arms out trying to untangle it from all the other cords on stage when everything happened so fast. I heard a soft yelp, as Bret slipped trying to step off the crate. I panicked, as his body fell into my outstretched arms. He landed heavily for such a skinny guy, and I felt the blood rush into my cheeks.
“Hey sweetheart.” Bret said sarcastically, with a sly grin, before I put him down. I practically dropped him in horror.
“You’re really light.” I said horrified and trying to hide my embarrassment.
“I know…that might be a problem.” He laughed and shrugged.
“Probably. Are we done?” I asked looking around.
“For now. After Farewell, My Love gets off then we have to set up for us but you don’t have to help.” I nodded when Bret was talking and went with Ronnie back into the restaurant, still blushing like a maniac.
When we were allowed to go back into the venue we went straight to the merch tables. They were already a mess. It made me annoyed that it was a mess; the table took about twenty minutes to set up! Ronnie and I both got a shirt from the BOTDF table and the TRS table. The bartender that is working tonight is Ronnie’s cousin. He gave us wristbands that said over 21 on them so we could have some drinks. In reality I’m only nineteen and Ronnie is twenty.
Before I knew it, I’d downed quite a few shots, and I could tell it was fucking with my head. The lights and colors of the room started blending together. I’m not sure what happened from there…
The concert ended around eleven o’clock. It was probably one of the best shows that I’ve played. By now all the fans were gone and we were all packing up. My shirt had become “invisible” by the end of the show, and I was sweating like crazy.
I looked around to look for the guys. I saw Brandon, JC, and Alex. No Tyler?
“Hey has anyone seen Tyler?” I asked, coming to the sudden realization that our drummer had disappeared.
“I think he went back to the bus.” Said Brandon, as he packed his bass into a case.
“Are you sure?” I said. Brandon has never been the smartest or most observant. He was the comic relief of the band, and definitely the one to get drunk first, besides Tyler. With Tyler being the compulsive drunk of the band; I was worried about him.
“Yeah I’m almost positive, why?” He raised an eyebrow at me, and slung the strap of the case over his broad shoulder.
“I haven’t seen him in a while,” I shrugged and looked around again. I stepped off the stage and looked behind the merch tables. Nothing but old wires, and chairs. The make-shift set up crew had gone missing as well. I walked back to the stage, and, just for the hell of it, checked the inside of a box.
“The fucker can’t get too far,” JC laughed from across the stage.
“I think I found him.” I said as I looked into one of our boxes. I laughed a little as I looked into it to see a purple blanket covering a sleeping Tyler. I felt the wandering eyes of the others as they peaked over my shoulder.
“It looks like Tyler.” Whispered JC from beside me. He was right; it did look like Tyler. Tyler looked like his usual drunk self, with his long black hair and leather jacket.
“I don’t think that’s Tyler.” Whispered Brandon, taking a step back nervously. “I said I was almost positive he went back to the bus,”
“I think it is. I mean look.” Alex joined in with a whisper so he wouldn’t wake up Tyler. “That’s Tyler’s jacket,”
“We should at least check.” Brandon whined again. “This is making me really paranoid,”
“Why? Tyler is my best friend and it would not surprise me if he passed out in a box.” I said trying to reassure Brandon by patting his back. “You know Tyler! He’s an idiot. Remember when he locked himself in the bathroom for four hours? This isn’t much different. Just this time; it’s a box,”
“We should just look at their face.” Brandon reached out a hand, and tried to touch the sleeping beast.
“No. I’m positive this is Tyler. Now, Alex help me bring him to the bus. JC, Brandon can you get the last of our stuff?” I smacked his hand away, and wrapped my arms around one side of the box. Brandon sighed in defeat and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“Yep.” Said JC as he picked up a few of our boxes. We all headed into the street, and back into the bus. I plopped Tyler and his box home down on the floor and relaxed myself on the couch of the bus.
The other’s soon filed in, and the bus started up. No one spoke, from being tired after the show, but I noticed Brandon continuously look to the box. I was just waiting for him to make another comment.
“Bret, don’t you have any doubts about this? I mean look at the jacket! Tyler’s jacket is always dirty. That jacket is clean. Practically brand new actually. Not to mention that the hair looks really really clean. Tyler is never that clean. It’s almost girly,” Brandon groaned at me and I rolled my eyes.
“Brandon; Tyler’s one of my best friends. You don’t think I know him? I know him like the back of my own hand. I know my best friend when I see him,” I put my head back against the cushions.
“If that fucker ain’t Tyler, then I had nothing to do with this, and I don’t know any of you,” Brandon glared at me sarcastically. “Have you even checked his bunk or anything?”
“No need when he’s right here,” JC backed me up.
“Thank you JC,” I smiled at him, and sighed.
“Besides; Maybe Tyler felt like getting his jacket cleaned or something,” Alex shrugged.
“Yeah? When?! We’ve been with him this whole time,” Brandon waved his arms.
“Obviously not, if we practically lost him in a box,” JC laughed. Brandon was definitely not convinced.
We were almost to the hotel that was next to our next venue. We were all exhausted but wanted to wait for the hotel to sleep. A nice bed would be a relief from the horrible bunk life. We were still waiting for Tyler to wake up from his box as well, but if he wasn’t up before we got to our hotel; we’d have to wake him up. I was not going to carry that box again.
“Hey guys.” Said a sleepy, drunken voice from the curtains leading to the bunk area. I looked up to see Tyler! It’s a good thing he’d finally woken up. At least I didn’t need to carry the box!
“Hey Tyler. TYLER?” screamed JC, sitting up from his slumped position on the couch, and practically hitting me while waving his arms in horror. I wasn’t quite sure what his problem was! It’s as if he’d never seen a hangover before.
“WHAT?” screamed Tyler in surprise. He jumped back, and cringed, covering his ears.
“If Tyler was in the bus then…” Alex let his voice die down, and I came to the sudden realization. I looked over at the box, and saw the mass still fast asleep. Well FUCK. We all jumped up and crept cautiously over to the box. Brandon stayed on the couch and Tyler sat down next to him, confused. Tyler rubbed his head, and Brandon was trying his hardest not to laugh.
“I told you! I’m a goddamn genius!” Brandon snorted and pointed to all of us.
“Brandon this is serious!” I yelled shrilly. My voice must’ve gone up multiple octaves and I was shaking like a fucker on some serious drugs.
“What’s going on?” asked Tyler slowly. Everyone ignored him.
This felt like the kind of moment where you act compulsively. Maybe we could drop the box off on the street while the mystery guy was still sleeping? He’d never know what happened or how he got there. He’d never know we…kidnapped him. Oh shit we’re kidnapper’s aren’t we? We could do something crazy, like in a movie. Or call the police. Maybe we would be able to leave the guy at the hotel. While all this shit ran through my head; JC had his own plans. Without saying a word, he picked up the box and quickly turned it completely over. I stood up from my kneeling position and jumped back in horror.
“JC! That was not graceful!" I screamed and ran a hand through my hair, nervously. What if this were a really buff guy? He could fucking stomp all of us out at once! What if JC broke his neck! We're fucking screwed!
“Yeah that’s not Tyler.” Brandon started laughing again, buckled over.
“Fuck!” A female voice exclaimed.