I Have Been Right All Along

SARA'S POV

“Sara! Are you seriously still sleeping?” someone yells from outside of my bunk, furiously sliding the curtain open. I open my eyes, but no light shines in, oddly. After focusing my vision, I realize that Brendon’s body is blocking the light. I quickly push on his chest, causing him to roll over.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles.

“Woah, hey Brendon,” the voice says from outside the bunk. I lean up to see who it is, seeing Zac standing there, bright eyed and fully awake. I rub my eyes.

“Zac, what are you doing?” I ask.

“Seeing what you’re doing,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“Obviously I was sleeping. What time is it?”

“Like two in the afternoon,” he says, still standing there.”How many people were on this bus?”

“Just the three of us, why?” I ask.

“You two are crammed into one bunk,” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah, well that’s because Brendon’s a butthole and decided to take the bunk I picked out. I refused to find another one, so we both slept in here,” I explain, looking down at Brendon, who appears to have fallen back asleep.

“Well come out here, we’re at the venue,” Zac says, walking back out to the front of the bus. I just sit there, leaning on my one arm, looking out past Brendon to the more open space of the bus, suddenly feeling quite ‘crammed’ into this bunk.

“Brendon, move,” I say demandingly while pushing on his side. His arms quickly cover his face as he moans.

“Get up, get up, get up!” I yell, pushing on him harder than before. He just rolls over onto his side so he’s facing me and curls up, kneeing me in the stomach.

“Ah!” I yell in response and smack his bare arm. He snaps his eyes open and looks at me, confused.

“Christ, Brendon! Way to knee me in the stomach,” I say, pushing on his arm. “Let me out before I freak out.”

“Sorry,” he says tiredly, rolling over and sliding out of the bunk. He stands there dazed, much like this morning when we got to the buses, as I get out. Once my feet are firmly on the floor, I look up at Brendon, noticing the red hand mark on his arm.

“Holy shit, I’m sorry!” I say, rubbing the handprint I made from when I smacked him. He lifts his arm out to inspect it for himself.

“Oh wow,” he says, laughing a little.

“I didn’t mean to leave a mark!” I say, feeling terrible.

“Well I kneed you in the stomach, I deserved it,” he says, brushing off the whole situation with a smile.

“Sara!” someone yells excitedly from the front of the bus, I turn around and see Josh entering the bus.

“Hey!” I say, walking towards him, trying my best not to make it awkward with him since I now know he likes me.

“How have you been?” he asks as he reaches out and hugs me. I hug him back and put on my best smile.

“Great, what about yourself?”

“I’ve been alright. I missed you. Haven’t seen you for a while,” he says, smiling at me. I nod and smile at him.

“I know. Crazy, huh? How was…uh…wherever you were this week?”

“Chicago, it was awesome. I had a good time. How was Brendon for the week?”

“Hyper beyond belief. He’s really a fun guy, though,” I say, standing there awkwardly, nodding and smiling like an idiot.

“Oh I totally am,” Brendon says from behind me. I turn around and look at him, laughing, as he stretches his arms above his head. Again, like a few nights ago in my bedroom, my eyes go straight to the skin that’s beginning to make an appearance from under his shirt, except this time he notices me checking him out.

“You want it,” he says knowingly to me, lifting his shirt up with his fingers seductively.

“Definitely,” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes and turning around towards Josh, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment.

“Aw, you’re embarrassed,” Brendon says, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I duck out of his embrace and run past Josh and off the bus.

“Where are you running off to?” Hayley asks from outside of the bus. I almost hit her with the door.

“More like running away from Brendon,” I laugh, shutting the bus door.

“Why?” she asks, looking confused.

“Ugh, he’s embarrassing me,” I whine, causing Hayley to laugh.

“How?”

“I was totally checking him out and he noticed,” I shake my head and roll my eyes.

“Oh, nice!” she says, laughing.

Josh then walks out of the bus, Brendon following close behind.

“What happened with you?” Josh asks me, standing next to me, staring at me, perplexed.

“Nothing at all,” I smile, trying to brush off the whole situation.

It was just kind of awkward checking out Brendon in front of Josh, who obviously likes me, and Brendon noticing me checking him out and bringing it to everyone’s attention. It also doesn’t help that I’m pretty sure I’m starting to like Brendon. Which further makes things awkward for me around Brendon and especially Brendon and Josh.

“Didn’t look like nothing at all,” he says knowingly, nudging my arm.

“Well, Josh, that’s because you over analyze things, making it hard for you to decipher between something and nothing at all,” I say smiling before walking back into the bus, leaving both Josh and Brendon standing there, at a loss.

I decide to grab some clothes for the day so I can head into the venue for a shower. The bus’s shower is really small, and I don’t do so well in small areas unless I’m really tired or completely out of options. And right now, there’s definitely got to be a shower in the venue.

I grab a towel and a pair of jean shorts and a green t-shirt and the other usual necessities for getting ready for the day. I get off the bus and head to the back of the venue. I find the dressing rooms, no problem, and go into Paramore’s. Everyone is in there sitting around waiting for sound check.

“Getting in the shower, stinky?” Jeremy asks from the couch. I give him a glare.

“I smell wonderful, thank you very much, but yes, I’m getting in the shower,” I laugh before walking to the bathroom door.

After taking a longer shower than necessary, I finally get out and dressed, walking out of the bathroom with my hair still wet. The only people left in the room are Jeremy and Josh.

“You smell better,” Jeremy says, not looking up from his laptop.

“Thanks, Jer,” I laugh and walk over to the couch in front of the two guys.

“What’s going on?” I ask, getting Josh’s attention almost immediately. He shakes his head, quickly answering.

“Nothing. Waiting for sound check.”

“Whose sound check is now?” I ask, curious.

“I think Panic’s, but I’m not sure,” he says, standing up, placing his laptop on the beat up side table. “You want to go check it out?”

“Sure,” I say, putting my things on the couch and follow Josh out of the dressing room. As we walk to the side of the stage, he puts his arm around my shoulder. I put my arm around his waist, like I always used to.

“I missed talking to you,” he says. I smile and nod.

“Yeah, it’s been weird without you around. Kind of quiet,” I joke, nudging his side.

“Ouch. Are you saying I’m loud?”

“No way, why would I say that?” I say sarcastically, looking up at him.

“Because you’re a mean old lady, that’s why.”

“Hey! You’re a year older than me!”

“So?” he laughs as we approach the side of the stage.

We stand there and watch everyone messing around on stage for a few minutes. Ryan stands there, concentrating on the tuning of his guitar, Spencer absentmindedly hits his drum set. Jon and Brendon dance around on stage, acting like children. Brendon notices Josh and I standing at the side of the stage and waves, excitedly yelling things I can’t quite hear. I wave back and just smile. Ryan then walks over to Brendon and says something in his ear. Brendon turns around, revealing his blue boxer briefs resting above his butt, higher than his jeans. I walk onto the stage to Jon’s microphone stand, waving to Jon in the process.

“Nice blue panties, Brendon,” I say into the microphone. Everyone turns to me, amused.

“What?” Brendon asks, unaware.

“I said nice blue panties,” I say, away from the mic this time, walking closer to Brendon. I go around to the back of him, dodging his guitar he’s got strapped around his shoulder as he tries to turn around to see his butt, nearly knocking me in the head with the neck of the guitar. I reach out and grab the top of his jeans and yank them up, covering, for the most part, his boxer briefs.

“There ya go, buddy,” I smile, patting him on the back and walking back towards a smirking Josh, whose eyebrows are raised. Everyone then starts laughing as Brendon adjusts his jeans, blushing slightly as he mumbles something along the lines of, "Boxer-briefs, not panties."

“You haven’t changed one bit,” Josh says to me, trying to control his laughter.

We stand there in comfortable silence while Panic at the Disco begins their sound check. After a little bit of laughter at the expense of Panic, Josh finally says something to me.

“So how are you holding up?” he asks, looking at me slightly worried. I look up at him for a moment, giving him a weak smile before looking down and shaking my head lightly.

“I’m doing okay,” is all I respond with.

I guess this is where I should explain what Josh is referring to. It was five years ago when I moved to Tennessee because of problems and complications at home. In two days, it will be five years since it all happened.

I lived in New York all my life (minus the past five years) with my parents. I’m their only child. Their marriage only lasted fifteen years, and only getting married because my father got my mother pregnant and they felt the only way to make it okay was to marry each other.

They never got along, in fact, I can’t remember even one instance where they were civil with each other. I don’t even know why they decided to get married. The only one of them I ever got along with was my dad; my mom always had something to say and always wanted to argue. It was like she was looking for an argument. Anyway, I was fifteen and my dad bought me a guitar for my birthday. He promised to teach me how to play, and he had been ever since the moment he gave it to me.

More than a month after my fifteenth birthday, my parents got into a huge fight over something stupid and it escalated into a huge ordeal where they argued about their lives together and getting married and how I wasn’t even supposed to be alive. I sat in my room listening to them fight for two hours, crying to myself and trying my best to drown it out. I played the guitar my dad bought me and I practiced what we had been working on to help distract me. After a while, I heard five gun shots. Least to say, I walk out of my room and find my mother and father shot, my mother holding the gun in her hand.

I called the cops, frantic and crying. I was quickly taken away from my home and sent to Franklin, Tennessee to live with my grandparents, my dad’s parents. My things were packed up and sent to me to Tennessee and I began attending a local high school where I met Hayley, Josh, Zac, and Jeremy. We quickly became close friends and have been ever since.

Every year on the anniversary of my parents’ deaths, they try to keep my mind off it and we do random things like go to the movies or go on some sort of road trip or go camping. This year, however, there is a tour going on, so I’m not quite sure how we’re going to deal with it this year; or how I am going to deal with it this year. I hate dragging my friends down while I’m depressed over everything, so I try to keep my spirits high and do my best to keep a smile on my face.

The only reason why I don’t share this bit of information with just anyone is because, for one, it’s really hard to talk about, and for two, I don’t need the sympathy. I have my own ways of dealing with it and I don’t need people reminding me of how shitty the whole thing is and how sad I have been and should be about it. I choose to ignore my feelings towards it, and ignoring the feelings leads to forgetting the feelings which ends me up at having no feelings about it at all. I don’t need everyone screwing my little system up for me.

I have to be super close with someone before I tell them about my life in New York, my parents, and how I ended up in Tennessee. I need to know that the person I’m telling my past to knows me and knows to not spew out the, “Oh I’m so sorry!” bit and give me hugs for it and all that. I don’t need that. I'm doing just fine.

Now I know you’re probably wondering why I let Josh get away with asking me how I am holding up. It doesn’t bother me that he asks me things like that because I know how Josh is. Josh is a serious person most of the time and his intentions are sincere. He’s known me for five years and he knows how I want him to react and what things to not say to me. That also goes for the rest of Paramore. They know not to talk about the whole situation around other people, but when and if they do, it better be for a good reason. They all know that I don't want my past out in the open for everyone to know.

“What do you want to do this year?” Josh asks, staring down at me. I keep my eyes on the sound check that is going on in front of me.

“I have no idea. What city will we be in?”

“In two days,” he says, thinking to himself for a few moments. “I don’t have any idea.”

“We’ll just figure out what to do when that day comes,” I say, trying to nudge the sadness out of me.

“Sorry I brought it up,” Josh says, putting his arm around my shoulder again.

“Its fine,” I smile, deciding to not let it get to me right now; sadness can wait two more days...if I even let myself be sad.

“I got you this,” Hayley says from behind me, holding out a Red Bull. I smile and take it from her gladly.

“Thanks,” I say, popping the tab and taking a sip. Josh slides his arm off my shoulder and turns around to Hayley, looking extremely disappointed.

“Where’s mine?” he asks, his shoulders dropping.

“I didn’t know you wanted one,” she says, taking a sip of her Cherry Coca-Cola.

“I’m just kidding, Hayles,” he smiles at her, patting her shoulder as she laughs.

Just then, Panic comes off stage, exchanging quick hello’s to Josh, Hayley and me as they pass through.

“I think it’s our turn to sound check,” Hayley says, turning around to get the other guys. I stand there and take another drink of my Red Bull.

“I’m going to go get my guitar. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Josh smiles at me before walking away.

“Where did you get that Red Bull?” someone asks demandingly from behind me. I gasp and quickly turn around, finding Brendon standing there with a very serious expression on his face. I playfully slap his arm and try to catch my breath.

“Don’t scare me like that!” I laugh, letting out a deep breath.

“Hayley gave it to me,” I answer his question, referring to the Red Bull in my hand.

“I need to get me one of those,” he says, walking off.

“Hey wait up!” I call after him, walking quickly to catch up with him.

“Where do you think she got it?” he asks, taking a sharp right down a well-lit hallway.

“I mean, you could probably just ask her instead of speed-walking down random hallways,” I say loudly from about 4 feet behind a quick-walking Brendon. He stops abruptly and turns to me, smiling.

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re dumb?” I say, throwing my hand up in the air.

“Could be...if I really were dumb,” he says, leading us back to where we started. He abruptly stops again and quickly turns around to face me, looking lost.

“Where’s Hayley?”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. I’m not sure what to say since it’s quite obvious that Paramore is doing sound check; Hayley’s voice is resonating in the hallways and all throughout the venue as she warms up to their song Born For This. His face suddenly turns into one of realization as he takes a close listen to the sound check…not that a close listen was even necessary, we are standing right next to the stage.

Without a second thought, he walks onto the stage, tapping Hayley on her shoulder, causing her to stop singing.

“Where’s the Red Bull?” he asks her. I can hear his voice faintly coming through the speakers as he talks loudly, obviously loud enough for the microphone to pick up his voice over the sound of the guitars and drums.

“What?” she asks, laughing and obviously completely amused that he would even think to go on stage during a sound check to ask where the Red Bull is located; Red Bull…of all things.

The music stops playing one instrument at a time as Brendon stands on stage, inquiring about Red Bull.

“Where did you get the Red Bull you gave to Sara?” he persists. She stares at him for a few moments, very amused.

“Sara, please come get him,” Hayley says into the microphone, turning towards my direction, laughing as Brendon turns to look at me.

I lift up my hands in surrender.

“He’s out of my control!” I yell over to her.

Hayley looks at me helplessly, dropping her arms to her sides.

“Just…where are the Red Bulls?” Brendon asks again, turning back towards her. He's definately getting antsy.

“They’re in our dressing room in the fridge,” Hayley gives in. He quickly turns around, but is stopped by Hayley grabbing his arm.

“Don’t think you’re going to be able to have them all the time,” she laughs, letting go of his arm. He smiles and hurries towards me.

“Let’s go get me one,” he says, running off to Paramore’s dressing room. I choose not to follow him; he’s run too far and I really don’t feel like catching up to him.