Skies Do Fall

I know exactly what you’re thinking, and you’re way off the target.

The ticket was not to the Third Eye Blind concert Brendon had animatedly discussed with me, or some other popular, mainstream rock band concert, for that matter.

Actually, I really couldn’t tell you what the ticket was for. Mainly because I honestly didn’t know myself.

It was a piece of cardstock lamented over. The writing imprinted on it looked like it could have even been printed out, had it not been for the few miniscule flaws in the close-to-perfected print.

That meant that it had been written by someone, not professionally composed from a machine, but hand-written by a human being.

It wasn’t specific, and the writing was scarce with limited details. In fact, there were only three fragmented sentences inscribed on the tiny slip of sturdy paper:

Las Vegas, Nevada
Row 2, Seat F
June 10th, 2006

No details as to what the ticket was actually for. Nothing. Nip. Nada. None.

I had the strong vibe that if I were to question Brendon about this ticket, he probably wouldn’t give me much more details either. So, what did that leave me to do?

After obsessing over the ticket for a straight two hours, if not longer, I finally threw in the towel and began to tidy up the destructed items that had been tossed and mutilated across my bedroom’s floor.

I went to bed late, as per usual. I tried not to think about my father, and tried so desperately to ignore the sound of his footsteps growing louder and then fading with the closing of my parent’s bedroom door. I was trying with all my might, but it was as useless as trying to climb a glass mountain.

The next morning was another one of those Saturdays. No plans due to the fact I had absolutely zip friends. No duties to attend to. I had nothing to do whatsoever.

The Sun’s rays illuminated the bleak curtains of my window, shining through the shear fabric to make my white walls appear as though they were almost glowing. I didn’t mind the Sun welcoming me when I blinked my eyes open for the first time in the day; it sent this warm, fuzzy sensation bubbling inside of me. It made me excited despite the sad reality that I had nothing to be excited over.

My legs somehow grew a mind of their own and guided me toward my shower. The scolding jets of water set me to my fully conscious state in a matter of seconds. Once I was fully bathed and clothed, I stalked down the stairwell to the kitchen where indistinct voices and uproarious chortles could be heard.

My mom was sitting cross-legged upon our kitchen counters, her choice of posture causing her to look more like a fun-loving teenager rather than a mid-aged, mature woman. Tristan was seated at our kitchen table, gleaming his teeth in mid-laughter while popping purple grapes individually into his ajar mouth.

My mom’s eyes flickered to my face as soon as she took notice of my presence, and her lips immediately puckered up in frustration.

“Robs, how many times do I have to tell you?” She sighed, hopping off the countertops in one fluent leap.

She grabbed something from the table and treaded over to a stop in front of me. Standing up on her tippy-toes, my mom began to run a comb through the sopping roots of my hair.

After about a minute or so of combing, my mom smiled in satisfaction and scooted away to examine her work, clutching the hair tool proudly.

“There. Now you have a straight hairline and not one that goes in every direction.” With that, she wounded past me and began to saunter over to the closet that held our coats. “And sweetie, there is some extra bagels set out for you in the toaster if you’re hungry.”

After gulping down a handful of grapes, Tristan called out, “Where you going, mom?”

“I’ve got to go to the store to buy some decorations for Emily’s baby shower party. I’m the planner for everything, so I have to get started today,” my mom explained while tugging on her sable leather jacket. “You kids don’t wait up for me; I’ll be away for a while. I’ll try to make dinner tonight, but it might not happen. Love you two, behave, and I’ll see you later.”

We called out our brief goodbyes and waited till the slamming of the front door echoed off to talk again.

Tristan let out a loud belch before standing up and stretching. “Well, I’ve got to go too. That skating competition is coming up and some say Rodney Mullen might even judge, so I’ve really got to double-up the practice.” Turning to face me, his wide, teal eyes absorbed my face. “You want to come with me? I don’t want you staying here by yourself, you know, bored all day long.”

I could see where he was getting at. He didn’t want me to go back to Cynical Robin, and I don’t blame him for trying to prevent that from happening again. I didn’t even like that side of me.

I shook my head. “No need to worry, Tris. I have already made plans to go see a movie with an old friend I ran into.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “Do I know this old friend of yours?”

I understood exactly what he meant by that and, rolling my eyes, I assured him, “It’s a female, Tristan.”

Tristan chuckled, pulling up his arm to ruffle my damp hair in a brotherly way. “Thanks, sis. That’s all I needed to know. I’m just making sure I won’t have to pull out the Tristan Twins for some serious ass-kicking.” He flexed both of his arms as if to show off biceps he didn’t have.

Jutting out my bottom lip and squinting my eyes, I observed his flexed arms and asked, “Where are these twins you speak of? Are they hiding behind this pair of twigs?”

Tristan lightly shoved my shoulder and gave me a serious look, pinning his hands back down to his sides. “You're a jerk." he sighed and said, "Anyways, I’ve really got to get going. You sure you don’t want to come with me? The guys really miss you.”

“Tell them next time I swear I’ll come,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders at the sad frown Tristan casted me at my let-down.

Tristan sighed. “Okay then. Have fun at the movies. Tell me all about it when I get home, alright?” He gave me a brief peek on the cheek, sent me a warm smile, and then waved bye before stalking out of the kitchen, and then exiting the house completely.

I sighed, subconsciously scolding myself for lying to Tristan about having plans and not going with him. But something deep down told me that going with Tristan was a bad idea, so I went along with my irrational instincts.

After standing there for a moment longer, I decided that seeing a movie really did sound good, even if I didn’t really have a friend to accompany me. I climbed back up the steps to my room to do some last adjustments to my appearance.

Peering out the window, I noted how there was a thin layer of fog coating the outside surface of my window. The way the very few trees swung limply from side to side clued me in that there was a chilly breeze in the air.

I dressed kin to the weather, pulling on a thick pair of blue jeans and wrapping my upper-body into a snug, long-sleeved, periwinkle shirt made of cotton. After combing my hair up into a tight ponytail, I grabbed all of the necessities needed for my casual visit to escape the dull loneliness bound to inculcate me if I remained home.

Jogging the stair’s steps hurriedly out of habit, I grabbed the closest hoodie to me hanging off the coat hanger and hinged my hand to the doorknob. Turning the odd shaped metal, I faintly heard the clinking of unlocking gears before I felt myself guiding the weight of the heavy door with me.

When the door was fully open, I peered up as the late winter’s winds brushed against my cheeks, and met eyes with Brendon Urie for the millionth time. But certainly not for the last.