It's Really Happening

It’s strange how time works. When you’re not paying attention, it seems to pass by so quickly, but then something happens that slows everything down. It’s like watching a train wreck or car crash: you want to do or say something to prevent the inevitable, but you’re stuck moving at the same deliriously slow speed.

When Zack and I exited the bus, some of the guys snickered. I didn’t think twice about it, since my brain was full of feel-good neurotransmitters. We split ways, him going to set up his weights and me skipping off to find Abby.

Once I did, she enlightened me as to why people were giggling and giving me weird looks: I had a serious case of almost-sex hair, and so did Zack, I noticed. But hey, nobody in line would connect the two. Hopefully.

I loved exploring venues, mostly because I spent a lot of time in them, and sharing my weirdness with Abby made it all the better. It bothered me a little that she’d put so much thought into whether fans liked her. A lot of my interaction with people was based on not caring what people thought of me, but I also did my best to ignore the truth of the situation. Abby and I were in the same boat, but I tried to forget that Zack was, well, famous. I was never sure how I felt about it.

When she went off to reattach herself to His Tallness, I made my way backstage. I knew Zack would be lifting weights in the green room, so that’s where I would go! I got sidetracked, however, a mere ten feet away by the conversation Danny, Jimmie, Seth, and Dave were having.

“I was surprised you got out with all your clothes on,” Seth laughed.

I swung my head around. “Did you almost get ravaged by fangirls again?” I quipped.

Dave rolled his eyes. “It’s always almost,” he commented.

“And thank god, because otherwise you’d get arrested when some underage psycho-tramp boasted on the interwebs.”

“They always seem so normal when you meet them,” Seth said wistfully, continuing to play his guitar. It seemed like Seth was always playing, probably because he was.

“Yeah, but all women do that,” Dave put in. “They act all nice for a while, but then they drop the act and you see how fucking crazy they are.”

I snorted. “Obviously you’re picking up the wrong chicks, David,” I said dryly.

“Obviously you’ve never met my ex. Otherwise you’d already know that.”

“All exes are insane,” Danny argued, shaking his head. “That’s why they’re exes. I know all of mine are.” There was a pause before Danny blinked and turned to me. “No offense, Eris.”

I shrugged. “None taken. At least I’m upfront about my nutjobness.”

“What?” The group of us all turned to look at Zack, who was staring at me, weight forgotten in his hand. I frowned slightly, confused. “You and…?”

This was where the time dilation kicked in, just as I realized what he meant. His expression changed from surprise and he rose to his feet. I stumbled when he pulled me out of the room by the arm, leaving the rest of the group standing there awkwardly. I tried to loosen my arm from his grip, but obviously Zack was a lot stronger than I was.

Luckily he stopped and turned on me in the empty hallway. “You told me you’d never been with anyone else,” he whispered accusingly.

“I hadn’t! Haven’t!” I corrected quickly. My heart was pounding, and my head was starting to spin.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t! I swear, Zack, Danny and I never—”

“Why should I believe you?” he interrupted. “How many other relationships have you kept from me?”

“None! It wasn’t—”

“How do I know all those times you hung out with him while I was on tour, you haven’t been fucking him?”

My hand shot up and slapped him across the face. I hadn’t meant to. I just got so mad that he’d accuse me of that and it just… happened. Reverse time dilation, I guess. But the second the sound echoed down the hallway, I clasped my hands together and stuttered a step back, wishing I could take it back. Zack licked his lips and glared at me, eyes burning, before tromping away down the hall.

I pressed my eyes shut, but didn’t call or move after him. “Fuck, why did I do that?” I muttered. Someone started coming up the stairs, so I quickly let myself into an empty room. “God, I’m an idiot.” I sat down on the couch and put my head in my hands. “Such an idiot.”

A few minutes later, Abby came in and asked what happened. I didn’t really want to talk about it, but she could see I was angry and upset and wanted to help. I left out the part about slapping him, though; my chest hurt thinking about that.

She made me feel a little better, except that people kept interrupting which didn’t help. I definitely didn’t want everyone knowing we had a fight. I hadn’t intended on hitting Alex in the face with a heavy book; I was hoping for a box of tissues or something that wouldn’t hurt.

But soon the time came for the show to start—the Audition passed the door on their way downstairs—and I couldn’t stay moping backstage. “Floor or balcony?” I asked, standing up.

“Whatever you want,” Abby replied carefully.

I rolled my eyes at her. “I’m fine.” She raised an eyebrow. “Kind of. For now. Balcony it is.”

On the way downstairs, we ran into Alex with a bag of ice on his face. I winced when he pulled it away. That would be a nice bruise. “Oranges,” I suggested, not quite meeting his glare, “And a warm compress. And sorry. Bad timing.” I quickly made myself scarce, not wanting to be in the presence of another person who was mad at me.

I should have been thrilled to be working my way through the crowd of kids milling around the venue, thrilled that I was on tour for the first time in my life, thrilled that people were looking at Abby and me with our passes and trying to figure out who we were. But I just kept thinking about the look on Zack’s face right before he took off, and it made me sick.

“I need a drink,” I called over the noise once we got upstairs. “You want one?” Abby shrugged, and followed me to the bar, where I ordered a whiskey coke. Thank you, fake ID.

We sat in the middle of the balcony, directly facing the stage, and watched the sea of people until the lights went down and everyone cheered. It wasn’t until the beginning of Every Avenue’s set that I realized I wasn’t having much fun. I knew all the words to every songs of every band on tour, but I was too distracted by worrying.

“I’m gonna go tell the guys good job,” Abby announced once the set was done. “Do you want to come?”

I stared at her blankly. “Do I want to come watch you and your fiancé be insufferably perfect for each other?” I rephrased.

“Okay, point taken. Don’t worry! Zack’s probably back and calmed down and getting ready to bring the house down. Everything’ll be okay.” She gave me a hug and made her way across the balcony. I sighed and leaned my elbows onto the railing. Everything will be okay. Sure it will. I rested my chin on my arms. Now if I could just believe that.

A few minutes later, while Flyzik was asking the sound guy to make everything louder, someone sat down beside me. “Hey.” I wiggled my fingers in greeting. “So everyone backstage is flipping out.” I peered over my shoulder at him. “Zack’s not back yet.”

I let my head fall. “Fucking Christ, they’re supposed to go on in five minutes,” I muttered before sitting up straight and leaning back beside Danny.

“So what happened?” he asked, sipping his beer.

“He wigged out and was, like, ‘You lied to me!’ and kept interrupting when I tried to explain—which you know pisses me off—and then he said, ‘How do I know you haven’t been fucking him?’ and I slapped him and then he left,” I said dully.

There was a long pause. “Damn.”

“Yeeee-up.”

“My bad.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t know you hadn’t told him.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh yeah, that’d go over great,” I said sarcastically. “‘Hey love, before you and I got together, I used to make out with your good friend Danny sometimes.’ Bloody brilliant idea.”

He laughed. “Well, not like that. But he’ll get over it.”

“I hope so,” I muttered. “It’s not like I can do better.”

“Hey.” He put his arm around my shoulder and nearly pulled me off my chair. “Stop with the self-deprecation shit.” I fought a smile, made more difficult by him grinning at me, and he ruffled my hair. “Besides, we’re going to a bar with karaoke after the show.”

I stopped fixing my hair and gaped with mock horror. “Oh god, you serious? Awesome, a bunch of drunk fuckers singing Journey.”

“I know! Party!”

I let out a laugh. “Well, at least I have one thing to celebrate.”

“Yeah? What?”

“Quit my job before I left.” Danny’s eyes widened. “It was going to be this big surprise: congratulate me, I’m unemployed!” My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out. Zacks back. He doesnt want to talk to anyone. I sighed and put my phone back. “Set’s gonna start soon.”

Danny was staring at me. “Shit, what’re you gonna do?”

“Sit here and try to enjoy the music.”

“No, I mean about your job,” he clarified. “You’ve got rent and shit.”

I smiled enigmatically. “I’ve got something lined up.”

He raised a curious eyebrow, but I said nothing. And stole a sip of his beer. “Bitch, that’s mine! Get your own!”

I couldn’t help smiling when the guys came out. The excitement in the room was infectious. I couldn’t really tell because of how far the balcony was from the stage, but everything seemed normal. Alex didn’t have a huge bruise on his face—I wondered whose makeup somebody stole—and Zack looked focused like he always did. He simply didn’t talk, which wasn’t too out of the norm.

After a few songs, Danny got up to get another beer and returned with one for me, as well as Dennis, Josh, and Abby. Which was nice, because any time someone said something obscene, there was laughter and more obscenity. A few people came up to one of the guys for pictures or to chat, and I, sitting in the middle of the group, ignored them, unless they needed someone to take the picture, in which case I was volunteered.

The guys decided to head backstage in the break before the encore, which left Abby and I to decide whether we wanted to listen to “Remembering Sunday” for the eight-millionth time. “Well, we could go hang out in the dressing room,” she suggested as an alternative. “It’s cooler in there at least.”

I glanced at the sea of mostly girls chanting for the band. “Yeah, I guess,” I sighed, getting up. I didn’t really want to be the doting girlfriend waiting for her man to get offstage, but maybe that would help.

“Remembering Sunday” turned into “Jasey Rae” and Abby and I sang and danced up and down the hallway, much to the amusement of the rest of the tour. Thankfully we didn’t have to worry about being filmed, since nobody would know or care who the weird chicks being weird were. We knew that the show as over, because the venue got even louder with chatter and the backstage energy completely changed.

We ladies sat on the couch to wait while All Time Low and crew came back and the Audition and Every Avenue went out to sign and talk to fans. I didn’t know what to do with myself when the guys came in, so I pretended to be looking at something fascinating on my phone.

I kept an eye on Zack, who took a towel and a bottle of water and pretended he didn’t see me. But soon came the time to go be mobbed by adoring teenage girls, which left little room for avoiding each other. He caught my eye and leaned his head toward the door. I squeezed Abby’s hand, she gave me a smile, and I followed him out. He hadn’t even bothered to put on a shirt again.

The only place that wasn’t full of people, though, was a tiny bathroom that desperately needed to be cleaned. When I shut the door behind me, it was too quiet, and I hate filling silence. “I’m sorry I slapped you,” I muttered at the floor.

“No, I deserved it,” he replied. “That was a stupid thing to say.” I nodded slowly. Zack sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t anything serious,” I said more forcefully, “And I didn’t want you to think I was just some groupie.”

“Eris, I—”

“Let me finish.” Zack shut up, and I took a deep breath before speaking. “I didn’t know who he was when I met him. I thought he was just some guy at a show I went to alone. We got to talking, he put me on the guest list for their next show, and we hung out. Just as friends,” I qualified, looking up.

He was staring, trying to understand, and it made my stomach squirm. So I returned to looking at the floor. “Next night, I drove up to Sacramento, and after the show, we hung out in their van, and…” I swallowed. “And we ended up making out. Next time he came through, same thing: show, chill, make out. We both knew it was nothing more and we were okay with that because he lived in Chicago and I lived in San Francisco.”

“So,” he said after a moment, “You never…” My eyes rose again and caught the uncomfortable look on his face.

A light bulb clicked on. “Oh! No!” I laughed slightly. “I was seventeen! And do you remember what I was like when you met me? That was after a year of therapy!”

Zack nodded. “Okay.” We looked at each other, unsure of what to do now. He frowned slightly. “Why’d you… break up?”

“We didn’t really break up, per say. We were always just friends.”

“Who made out every time you saw each other.”

It became obvious that I was still angry with how much that frustrated me. “And we stopped because we found other people!” I snapped. Zack blinked a few times, and a smile slowly appeared. My annoyed expression melted into a bashful smile. I glossed over the fact that in the last few months before I met Zack, Danny and I spent more time chilling and less time kissing.

He tilted my chin up and locked eyes with me. “I’m sorry,” he murmured before closing the distance between us. I smiled against his lips and slid my hands over his bare shoulders.

Which reminded me that we were in a disgusting bathroom. “Zack?”

“Hmm?” He didn’t seem to care.

“This room is dead grotty.”

He pulled away and glanced around. “True.” He reached behind me and opened the door, allowing us to step into the hall.

“By the way,” I said as we strolled towards the dressing room. “I quit the restaurant.” Zack stopped walking three steps before I did. “But!” I took his hand and lightly kissed his lips. “When I get back home, I’ve got a job at a venue waiting for me.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Any other revelations? Because I’m gonna need a few drinks after that one.”

“Did I mention I used to be a dude?”

“Impossible,” he laughed.

I grinned, but feigned indignance. “How?”

Zack smirked. “Because I’ve seen you naked, and there is no way anybody could fake it that well.”