A Daydream Spills From My Corked Head

I gazed at the clock. We finally had only one hour remaining. I sat at the counter waiting for Lauren to finished getting dressed. She was always so slow.

"How do I look?" she asked, walking into the kitchen.

I looked at her. She was wearing a pink long sleeved shirt, with a black mini vest and some black skinny jeans. Her long blonde hair was resting on her shoulders. Lauren's makeup turned out pretty good on her pale face. In my opinion, she looked great.

"You look awesome, Lauren." I said.

"Okay, thanks. Now let's go!" she shouted.

I grabbed my phone and my keys and shoved them into my back pocket. I could never carry a purse. I would set them down and forget about it, and plus, they are just a pain in the ass. Therefor, the man who invented the pocket is my hero.

I followed Lauren out the front door, locking it behind me. We went downstairs, into the lobby of my apartment building, and out towards my car. If I were ever surrounded by many many cars, and forced to find my own, it would be simple. It was a small yellow Metro. My car was an old car. I got it cheap last year when I got my licence. I named it Sherly.

"Let me drive," Lauren insisted.

"Fine," I said, tossing her the keys.

I got in the passanger's side. Lauren jumped in on the other side and started up the car. I was rummaging through my CDs. I threw in Pretty.Odd. I figured I'd better review some of the lyrics to the songs, although I already had them memorize. I switched it to 'Northern Downpour' and began singing along. Lauren turned her head to look at me, then laughed.

The drive was quick. We pulled up to the Big Easy concert house. From the outside, it wasn't that crowded. I was afraid to know what it was like inside. Lauren parked at a gas station about a block away. We both had no problem about walking. Lauren pulled out the tickets and handed one to me.

"What about the backstage passes?" I wondered.

"Oh yeah, the radio station said we had to pick them from one of the guys named Frank up by the stage," she said.

"Oh. Weird."

We got in line behind two girls who looked about fourteen. They were going on and on about how hot the band was. As I listened, I could tell they only like the band because of their looks. Fan fucking tastic, I thought. If there were any open mosh pits tonight, I was definetly throwing them in. We handed the man our tickets, and walked inside.

It wasn't that packed, surprisenly. I thought everyone in California was a fan of Panic at the Disco. But by the ammount of people here, I was wrong. Lauren decided we better go find this Frank guy. I agreed. So we pushed our way to the front of the stage. There was a semi-large man wearing a black shirt, that read SECURITY in big white bold letters, and a black hat. I assumed this was the guy.

"Excuse me sir, is your name Zach?" I asked, waving my hand in his face.

He turned and glared down at us. "Why do you need to know?"

"Well, we uh.." I stuttered.

"I won backstage passes on the radio this morning. The guy said a man named Zach would have them." Lauren finished.

"Oh, alright," he said, "What's your name?"

"Lauren Raymond."

"Okay, come with me."He led us back behind the stage and told us to wait near a pole while he got the passes. He came back quickly, with two landyards in his hand. "Here."

We grabbed the passes and followed Zach back out into the crowd of people. We were in the front row. This was going to be the best concert of my life.