This Is the World We Left for Dreamers and Believers

So we were in the van….and bored…..an hour in.

“I’m so bored!” I said into the silence. They all turned to me including John who was coincidently driving. I grabbed his head and turned it around.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“No. You look at the road. Douche.” He sighed.

“What’d he do this time?” Pat asked leaning forwards from his spot in the back. If we ever got pulled they’d all be fucked. The most non seat belt wearing son of bitches ever.

“Breathe.” I answered searching through my bag for my phone, pulling it out I saw that their were four texts unread. This should be fun.

The first was from Kennedy- “Hey babe were looking everywhere for you! Where is you???!!” I looked over to the boy who was sitting next to me. His Ipod turned to maxim drowning us all out. I texted him back.

>Right here boo! Why so quiet?

Moving on the others were pretty much the same from Jared, Garret, and Pat. Each with a different theory as what I was doing in my disappearence. My phone vibrated just as I was clearing the inbox out.

>Lol. I’m sitting next you hun. I’m getting pumped for this show! Duh.

I looked over. Kennedy, a guy you found pretty much impossible to hate. He was adorable. He was sweet. Perfect crush material. He looked over and smiled, pulling at the white cord that led to his ear.

“What?”

“I’m bored.”

“Do something.”

“Something or someone?” Everyone laughed.

“Wow. She seriously just make that proposition?” Tim asked, joining the conversation.

“Be jealous it wasn’t you.” Kennedy said looking back at him. He huffed. John’s eyes watched me in the mirror. I didn’t care though. He had a “girlfriend” back home. Untouchable.

>>ARRIVAL. We’re finally getting somewhere. Haha.

“Kennedyyyy! Open the door!” I whined, practically sitting on his lap. We’d been at the venue for five minutes and he refused to open the door.

“Say it then.”

“No!”

“Do it.”

“Just do it!” Pat, Garret, and Tim yelled. I huffed.

“Fine! Kennedy is the best guitar player in the world! There! Now lemme out!!!” He smiled and took his hand off the lock. I climbed over him and jumped out. Bumping into Dave, Racing Kites tour manager.

“Oh hey.” Dave said looking scared at the fact that I had almost landed on him.

“Sorry Dave!!”

“Oh. So you know him but you had no idea who we were until three weeks ago? Go Annabel!” Garret said.

“I love you!” I said smiling up at him.

“So you know the band?” Dave asked, an arm now around my shoulders.

“Mhm. Love Racing Kites. Where are the guys?”

“Their inside being babies.” I laughed. The others were now walking in front of us.

“Hey Kennedy?” He turned around.

“Yo?”

“I want a piggy back ride.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“Legit?”

“Legit.”

“I-Uh. Okay.” He turned around. I ran and jumped on his back, half scared I was going to break his skinny ass.

“Your okay?” I asked wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I’m fine hun.”

“Okay! Lets go see everyone!!” The venue was cool. Place was freaking gorgeous.

“Dave, where’s my jacket at man?” Alex Ziabko asked jumping down onto the floor. He was so small and cute!! I stared, a huge, fan girl like smile on my face.

“Which ones he?” Kennedy asked turning his face to mine.

“Alex Ziabko. Lead singer. Racing Kites. Amazing.” Kennedy shook his head. “Don’t judge me!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are!”

“Prove it.”

“Hmph. I’ma go find Daray! At least she’s nice!” I said sliding off his back.

“You don’t want to meet the others?” Dave asked.

“I did last March plus we have three months to get to know each other.” I said shrugging. He waved and went to talk with his band. The band he might as well have been a member of.

“Darayyyy! Hi!” I yelled finding her setting up the table.

“Hey Annabel, what’s up?”

“Nothing. That’s just it. Nothing. I’m bored.” She laughed.

“That’s the way it is before a show. Built up energy all bottled into one venue. You’ll get over the feeling eventually.”

“Pshh. Whatever. I doubt that.” She shrugged, folding a shirt. Alex Ziabko walked by, waving to us both. His hands shoved deep into his overly, tight pants. Daray looked down at me, her eyes wide.

“Who is that?!”

“That, my dear, is Alex Ziabko. Lead singer of Racing Kites. Cute little thing isn’t he?” She nodded still looking at the place he once was.

“So….he single?”

“Yeah….but your not…..Jared….remember?” She shook he head as if clearing all thoughts of the 5’6, blonde out of her head. Too bad we were on tour with them.

“I can look.”

“No touchy! I can though!!” I said smirking. She glared.

“Where are the Hit The Lights guys? I’ve seen them four times and never met any of them!”

“Bar where they’ll spend almost the whole entire tour. Just another Pat Brown.” She laughed.

“Sing It Loud boys have no class.”

“They really don’t. Nate Flynn’s a sweetie though.” It went on like that up until an hour before the show started when fans started to pour into the venue. Now standing in the pit. Front row. Inches from the A Rocket To The Moon boys, I now understood why everyone said that you should most definitely see them at least once. They were amazing.

“You ready for this Arizona?!” Nick screamed receiving a reply of screams. To be cliché, the front was exactly what it usually consisted of; jostling teenies and groupies…..and those few short kids fortunate to get the front. The eight legit fans who wanted to hear The Maine play Daisy” and other classics had given up and let the girls behind them move up. Not that I blamed them. The same six girls had screamed ‘Pat have my babies’ every time little Pat walked out on stage. The green house lights lit Halvo’s beaming face. If they weren’t doing this they’d probably be hobo’s. They were all made for the stage. “Yeah you better be! Halvo! Take us out!” The first notes of “Dakota” floated through the stifling air. The finished out the set announcing that Racing Kites was next. The girl beside me had been trash talking A Rocket To The Moon ever since they’d gotten on stage and I was ready to smack a bitch. Nick leaned down.
“How’s everything going down here?”

“Save me?” He laughed and ruffled my already messy hair.

“I’ll help you out in a couple minutes. Okay?” I nodded eagerly. Anything to not be down in the pit alone. It was awkward multiplied by a million. The girl who’d be trash talking turned and stared at me, mouth hanging open.

“You know the band?”

“Band’s honey. I’m on tour with them.” I said lifting the camera to prove my point.

“Your not going-”

“To tell Nick that you pretty much called them fakes the whole time? I think you better take another look at what you listen to. Especially Metro Gaystation.” I said pointing to the purple Metro Station shirt she was wearing. She huffed and turned away from me. I smiled, content with her reaction. Dave was standing on stage with the Racing Kites light in his hand. He leaned down.

“What do I do with this? There’s nowhere to put it.” I looked around.

“On top the amps? I don’t know. Just don’t use it tonight.”

“You have a point.”

“Maybe I’ll be a tour manager one day?” He laughed.

“Nah, Stick to the camera baby.”

“Look Alex-”

“Fuck you.” I smirked and rolled my eyes.

“Not in this lifetime boo!”

We’ll see.” He said standing back up and carrying the light off stage. They were amazing. Alex Ziabko knew how to work a stage and win any girl over. The exited waving to me. I waved back and started going through the pictures. Hands appeared on my waist and a head on my shoulder.

“Uhm…..Hi?” I said not turning around.

“I’m Prince Charming come to rescue you from fan girl hell!” Justin said.

“Whoop whoop!” I turned around moving over a little so he could get beside me.
“I have to stay here though. It’s kinda like my job, dear.”

“Your gonna get time off every now and then so we can hang out after my set right?” I shrugged. I doubt they’d expect me to take a million and one shots like this every night but it’d be better to ask.

“Maybe. You’ve got to ask the guys, I’ma go to sleep when I get in the van. Fuck talking to them.” He shook his head and looked over at the Metro Gaystation chick who was staring at us. He turned back to me.

“I think someone has developed a crush on you.” He whispered in my ear. I died.

“Wow. No. She thinks you guys suck though. Then again her case doesn’t look too well. Metro Gaystation……seriously?!” Hit The Lights walked on stage stopping all conversation. As always one of the most energetic, hilarious, amazing, unbelievable, sets ever. They never got old. We screamed along every word to “Bodybag” giving props when Justin rightfully out sang me. He has a better voice anyway. Whatever. Pat slowly set up his drum set taking forever to get the kick drum together. The rest was simple wiring and John’s special white microphone. Kid is such a diva sometimes. They did in fact play “Daisy”. I thank Youtube for letting me learn every word to that one. Justin and I danced like fools. We had fun and I couldn’t be more stoked to be on tour with them.
>>Aftershow. Fans out.

I bounced, literally bounced over to the Racing Kites merch table. Dave was looking through some binder and Matty F. sat on a stool close behind Dave. Alex, Preston, and Matt H. were talking among the others.

“Whatcha doin?” I asked leaning my head on Dave’s messy hair.

“Looking for something.”

“Thanks’ Captain Obvious.” Matty F. laughed.

“Yo Treebock! What’s up?”

“You know about Treebock?!” He asked smiling.

“Anyone with Youtube knows Treebock!! Or at least anyone who saw the March update knows.” Preston walked over, a black snow cap hiding his messy black hair.

“Pictures?” He asked pointing the Canon that was hanging around my neck.

“No. I carry this around so I can sneak into vans with bands.” I said sarcastically.

“I’m going to like this kid.” He said to Matty who wasn’t paying any attention at all. He nodded absentmindedly.

“You want to see what I got though?” I asked. Preston nodded eagerly. I showed him the shots of his band. One I got of him was a simple black and white one of him playing even still it was probably one of my favorite shots of the night. My tummy gave a low rumble.
“You hungry?” Preston asked. I nodded, turning the camera off and rubbing my stomach.

“Food it is then! Dave, how long do we have?” Dave picked up the black Iphone he’d left on the table and looked at the clock.

“We leave at one. It’s 11: 59 now. How long do you have?”

“45 minutes!” I yelled.

“Wouldn’t it be an hour?” Alex asked joining the conversation.

“Nope. 45 minutes. We have to have time to walk there and walk back. Silly. Anyone else want to come?” Everyone else declined. We shrugged and walked out into the muggy Arizona air. The Maine guys were sitting in the van talking quietly. I waved to them. Yet again the heavy stare of John was felt as I walked along, flirting with Preston Rahbari. We got to Mcdonalds and talked. He was fun once he got over the nervousness of new people. A small amount of time with him left John O’ Callaghan in the distant past.