I Have Been Right All Along

“The turkey wraps are good,” Brendon says from beside me. We’re both at catering; both picking through the many random foods catering has to offer. Apparently the turkey wraps are worth eating. I grab a few, placing them on my empty plate.

It’s been a four days since Brendon told me he likes me. We haven’t really talked much in those four days. I’ve been hanging out with Josh more, though. We even went on a date yesterday after the show. He took me to get ice cream like he had promised four days ago.

“Those little red things are good too,” he says, stretching his hand over my plate to point at bowl, half full of round, red things. I take a closer look.

“Those are cherries,” I say, passing them up, reaching for a small bag of baked chips.

“You should get some,” he says, sounding slightly anxious as he scuffles his feet closer to me.

“I’m not feeling the cherries today, sorry,” I say, moving out of the way before he pushes me down to get to the cherries.

“How could you not?” he asks, scooping up a heap of cherries, dropping them onto his plate carefully. The juice from the cherries starts to run towards his three turkey wraps and his pile of mashed potatoes.

I narrow my eyes at him, “Have you eaten already?”

He nods, moving on to vegetable tray. He takes a handful of carrots and drops them onto his plate before reaching for some cucumbers then cherry tomatoes.

My gaze darts from his plate to his concentrated face.

“Is your stomach a bottomless pit?”

“It’s called the munchies,” he replies, not missing a beat as if he knew what I was going to ask.

“Right,” I say slowly, nodding my head. I turn back to the table, not finding anything else appetizing. I grab a Red Bull from the drink table. Brendon grabs two.

I decide to sit at a table with Patrick Stump since he’s sitting alone. I cross the patch of sunny pavement towards him. The sun beats down on my back, but at least the tables have umbrellas.

He looks up from his plate and smiles warmly at me, “Hey Sara.”

“Patrick Stump!” I say, making his name sound heroic, raising a fist in the air. I grin at him and take a seat in front of him.

Brendon walks over, sitting next to Patrick. He immediately digs into his lunch. His second lunch, I guess. Patrick and I ignore Brendon’s frenzied feeding and delve into our own little conversation.

“Josh! You could just let me win at least once!” I yell, smacking Josh in the shoulder as he beats me at Mario Kart…again.

“Hey! It’s not my fault you’re terrible at this game!” he says, flinching as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Fall Out Boy just started playing their headlining set. Tonight is their night. Josh and I are in the dressing room playing Mario Kart. We have been playing ever since Paramore got done with their set. They played first tonight so Josh and I have been playing for a while.

The dressing room door opens and Hayley walks in. She quickly takes notice to the video game action.

“Oh! I want to play!” Hayley says in a shrill voice, running over to us. I gladly hand her my controller, giving up on winning.

“If you beat that jerk, I’m going to be so mad,” I laugh, pointing at Josh.

“Being awesome at this game qualifies me as a jerk?” Josh asks making his voice higher in pitch as if he were upset.

“It does now,” I snort.

The game begins and Hayley is in the lead for a short time before Josh catches up to her and passes her, winning the game.

“You’re supposed to let girls win sometimes, Josh,” Hayley says, sounding much like a mother as she looks at him with wide eyes, her eyebrows raised knowingly.

Before he has time to retort with a sarcastic comment, knocks resound throughout the room, coming from the other side of the dressing room door.

“I’ll get it!” I call, hurrying off the couch to see who is on the other side of the door.

“Oh my God, Sara!” Brendon slurs, a smile spread widely across his face. I smile back, a little surprised.

“Brendon,” I greet, not matching the level of enthusiasm I was greeted with at all.

“Come with me,” he slurs, grabbing my hand, pulling me into the hall. I look back at Josh and Hayley helplessly, but they’re not paying attention. A new game of Mario Kart has begun.

I let Brendon drag me to Panic’s dressing room, following him inside so he can get his skateboard. Unfortunately for me, none of the other members of Panic at the Disco are in the dressing room. I silently curse them as Brendon rummages through several piles of his things.

“I’m gonna skate!” he says, holding the skateboard up over his head. He drops it down to his side and brushes past me out of the dressing room.

“Um,” I say, quickening my pace to catch up to him. “Is that really such a good idea?”

“Nothing’s ever a bad idea when I come up with it,” he slurs, leading us down off the stage, into the pit where fans stand to watch the shows.

“This might qualify,” I yell out as he drops the skateboard, hopping onto it and skating across the concrete floor.

He skates around tech people trying to pack up lighting and sound equipment. They glare at him but never speak up about him getting out of their way.

Brendon attempts a few tricks, and I’d be kidding myself if I even pretended to know the names of them.

“Brendon, what are you doing?” a male voice yells out from the stage. I turn around and see Pete standing there in a red hoodie, amusement written across his face as he casually stands on the edge of the stage, hands in his tight jean pockets.

“Pete, come skate with me!” Brendon yells, skating right towards me at an alarming speed.

I try to move out of the way, but fail to do so before he collides into me. He grabs my upper arms tightly with his hands, stopping himself with my body as he stumbles off the skateboard. I grasp onto his forearms and help him steady himself, not allowing him to fall to the ground because, let’s be honest here, I don’t think I’d be able to get him back up myself. And Pete’s not looking too promising either.

“Okay, I think you’re done with the skateboard,” I say as he lets go of my arms. I bend down and pick up the skateboard and walk towards Pete.

Brendon is quick to catch up to me, grabbing tightly onto the skateboard.

“I’m not done! I’m not done!” he says anxiously, trying to pull the skateboard out of my hands. He is worse than a child.

“Hey, hey,” I say, snapping my finger in front of his face. He looks up at my eyes almost immediately.

“You’re done with the skateboard,” I tell him. He lets go of it after a few moments, giving in. “Now come on.”

I turn and lead him back up to the stage, climbing up the steps. Brendon stumbles up the steps.

I turn to him, narrowing my eyes at him for a second time today, “How much did you have to drink tonight?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but stops himself to think. He blinks a few times, his gaze lingering off into the distance.

“I have no idea,” he slurs, looking back to me.

“I saw him have five drinks,” he says, glancing at Brendon once. “But I’m sure there were more I didn’t see.”

“How many is normal for you?” I ask Brendon.

He looks at me sheepishly, answering, “Three.”

“Okay, buddy, let’s go,” Pete says, grabbing onto Brendon’s arm, leading him back to the dressing rooms.

I follow behind them, lugging around the stupid skateboard.

It’s now the next night. The night we get a hotel after the show since tomorrow is our off day. It’s been an hour since the show ended and we’re now boarding the buses and heading to the hotel 20 minutes away.

Josh and I walk together toward the buses, but my attention is quickly drawn the other way.

“Sara, come on our bus!” Jon yells to me from my left, waving wildly at me from across the parking lot. I glance up at Josh, as if I need approval. He nods to me and make a b-line towards Jon, picking up my pace.

Jon slings an arm around my shoulder once I’m close enough.

“Are you going to swim with us tonight?” Jon asks, walking us towards the bus.

“Of course!” I say excitedly as Jon drops his arm from my shoulders, letting me get on the bus before him.

“Number five!” Brendon says loudly, holding up his beer can the moment I walk inside. My eyes widen, but no one else seems surprised; hardly any of them pay attention to him. He downs half the can in a few moments. Looking at me, he smiles widely, waving erratically, firmly holding the can of beer in his hand.

I wave back and take a seat next to Spencer on the couch. The bus begins to move and we embark on our 20 minute journey to a luxury hotel with comfortable beds and a pool.

As soon as the bus comes to rest, I jump out of my seat and hurry off the bus to Paramore’s bus. Brendon had three more beers in the 20 minutes, making his speech extremely slurred and his balance almost completely gone. His yelling was the cause of my slight headache.

I waste no time opening the bus door leading inside Paramore’s bus, hurrying in to grab my things, and following everyone else out of the bus. No one questions my hurried actions, but if they did, I’d answer with one word; Brendon.

I can’t quite pin-point why he’s decided to drink beyond his normal limits, but I don’t take the time to really care to think about it. He’s probably just trying to have fun.

“How were the guys?” Zac asks me as we enter the hotel.

“Three out of four were tolerable.”

Zac laughs, dropping his bags onto the ugly hotel carpet. Forest green, maroon, and gold aren’t doing a thing for this hotel lobby.

“Three out of four?”

I nod, “Yeah.”

“Who wasn’t tolerable?” he questions.

Our attention is turned to the lobby doors as my answer stumbles inside. I turn my attention back to Zac, pointing behind me at Brendon.

“Eight beers,” is all I say. He nods, understanding my rather short explanation.

Josh walks up to Zac and I, seemingly unaware of the ruckus Brendon’s causing. He’s either unaware or ignoring it.

“You and Hayley are rooming together,” he tells me, handing me a key. “She already went to the room.”

“And you and I, little brother, are roommates…just like when we were little, except Jeremy is to join us,” he says to Zac, handing him one of the two keys he has in his hand before heading to the room.

I bend down and pick up my bag and hurry to catch up with Josh. He glances over at me once I’m at his side.

“How was the ride with Panic?” he asks, walking to the elevator, pushing the ‘up’ button.

“Brendon gave me a headache. He had three beers on top of the five he had previously.”

“Wow. He’s really…partying it up, huh,” he says, sounding surprised.

“I don’t know what he’s trying to prove.”

The elevator dings softly, its doors opening. Josh and I step on and ride up to the 3rd floor where are rooms are. The metallic gold walls are a bit overwhelming inside the small elevator, reflecting distorted images of Josh and I.

“Does he like you? Maybe he’s trying to prove that’s he’s fun?”

I snort, snapping my head towards Josh. The elevator stops at level 3.

“Right…that’s logical,” I say sarcastically, stepping off the elevator. “And, yes, he likes me. He told me four days ago right before the buses left that night.”

“Oh really,” he replies, sounding interested.

“But he said he didn’t want to date anyone because he wanted to feel independent before committing,” I explain, looking down at my key, finding my room right in front of the elevators; Josh, Zac, and Jeremy’s room is to the left of mine and Hayley’s room.

“I told him that committing and feeling independent go hand in hand, or at least it should. Today’s the first day we really talked since he told me likes me.”

“Do you like him?”

I pause before answering, taken slightly aback at the question. I lean against the wall next to my door. I study Josh’s unreadable face for a moment before answering.

“Well…yeah, I guess. I told him I do.”

“That didn’t change his mind about the independent thing?”

I shake my head, replying, “No…I don’t think so. He just wanted to know why I decided to tell him I like him after he had told me he didn’t want to date.”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a short breath from his nose.

“He’s an idiot for not jumping at the chance,” he says, giving me a warm smile.

A grin spreads across my face and I look down shyly, feeling my face heat up.

“What are you so embarrassed about? You’re a sweetheart,” Josh says.

“Josh,” I whine, smacking at him.

“What? I’m just saying if I were Brendon, you and I would be dating.”

“Well you’re not … and we’re not, so -- “

“We could be,” he says, looking hard at me, completely serious. This isn’t the figurative ‘if I were Brendon’ scenario he was just tossing around, he’s referring to himself; Josh and me … dating.

“Yeah…could be if my feelings were in the right place.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean right now I don’t think that dating would be the right thing for us. When you first told me you liked me, I was completely thrown off. But I’m warming up to the idea of you being more than just a best friend to me. Give me a few more weeks and see what’s up then.”

I smile at him, turning to my door and shoving the key in the hole, opening the door with ease.

“Will do,” I hear him say, sounding quite pleased, before I shut my door so I can change into my bikini and head down to the pool.

At one in the morning, people start to head back to their rooms, some stay in the pool for a little while longer. I’m one of the people opting to go to bed along with Hayley, Patrick, Jeremy, Ryan, and Brendon. Brendon’s finally coming down off his eight beers and he doesn’t look so well.

“Where’s our room?” Brendon turns to ask Ryan, a white hotel towel wrapped tightly around his shoulders as we stand in the elevator on the way to the 3rd floor. Brendon’s teeth start chattering as the air conditioning blows through the vents in the small elevator.

“I’m going to be up all night,” Ryan complains, looking up at the ceiling.

“You can sleep in my room. Pete and I have three beds in there,” Patrick offers Ryan.

“I can’t leave him in the room alone,” Ryan says, pointing a thumb at Brendon, who is leaning against the back wall.

“Just switch with Pete, I’m sure he’ll be up all night anyway.”

“He won’t be pissed that I switched him, forcing him to deal with this asshole?” Ryan replies, pointing again at Brendon.

The elevator dings, signaling we’ve reached the 3rd level. Everyone gets off, heading for their own rooms quietly. I wait at the doors of the elevator with Patrick, keeping my hand on the elevator door so Ryan can help Brendon off the elevator.

“He won’t mind. He and Brendon are good friends.”

“I’ll go down and talk to him about it once I get him in the room,” Ryan says once Brendon’s out of the elevator. I let go of the door, allowing the elevator to close.

“Well if he’s okay with it, I’ll see you soon,” Patrick says, walking a few doors down the left side of the hallway, leaving just Ryan, me, and Brendon.

“Can you help me with him?” Ryan asks, wrapping his arm around Brendon’s right side. I wrap my arm around his waist on his left side.

“Which room?” I ask, looking around the front of Brendon at Ryan.

“That one right there,” Ryan says, pointing to the door next to mine on the right.

“Easy enough,” I say, helping Brendon and Ryan to the door and inside the room.

“Can you stay with him while I go talk to Pete real quick?” he asks me, sliding a shirt over his bare chest; his rather pale and thin chest.

“Yeah I can do that, no problem,” I smile at Ryan as Brendon flops himself down on the closest bed.

“Thanks. I’ll try to hurry,” he says, leaving the room, but comes back seconds later.

“Oh, hey, his bag is over there,” he points to the far corner of the room. “Could you get him some clothes out?”

“Yeah, sure,” I say, taking a quick glance at Brendon’s bag. This time Ryan leaves the room for good.

I turn around to face Brendon. He’s lying down on his back on the bed, his eyes closed and his hands resting on his bare stomach. He’s dressed only in his swimming trunks, the white towel lying underneath him on the bed.

I walk across the ugly forest green carpet to the far corner where Brendon’s bag is placed. I unzip it and dig inside through his many pairs of boxer-briefs, t-shirts and jeans.

“What are you doing?” Brendon asks, sounding only slightly sober.

“Getting you some clothes. What do you wear to bed?” I reply, not looking over at him, pulling out some pink boxer-briefs.

“Bed sheets.”

“Can you make an exception for tonight?” I ask, pulling out a yellow t-shirt with some green screen-printed graphic on it. I find a pair of green basketball shorts and head over to the bed. I put the clothes on the bed as Brendon turns his head to look at my selection.

“Anything for you,” he says, sitting up slowly.

He stands up and reaches down to untie his swim trunks, which he has a little trouble doing at first, but succeeds seconds later. As soon as he’s getting ready to pull them down, Ryan and Pete enter the room and I turn around quickly, not wanting to see Brendon in the nude.

“Stop! What did I say about undressing in front of everyone?” Ryan yells. The door slams and Brendon starts to laugh.

“I’m serious, Brendon. No one wants to see your dick. Change in the bathroom,” Ryan says, grabbing Brendon’s clothes before leading him past me to the bathroom. Ryan shuts the bathroom door and turns back to me.

“Sorry about that. I forgot to mention he has no problem changing in front of people,” Ryan says quietly, scratching his head as Pete laughs to himself by the door.

“No, I knew that. He did that back at home in the living room when he stayed with Hayley and me,” I say, waving off his apology as I laugh.

“Oh, God,” he says, shaking his head.

“Well I’m going to go,” I say, making my way to the door, only then realizing that I’ve been prancing around in only my yellow bikini with my towel wrapped around my waist. Wonderful.

“Goodnight,” both Pete and Ryan say at the same time.

“Night,” I say, letting the door shut behind me.