They Let Us Play With Markers, but I Keep Trying to Draw Infinity

Randy opened her mouth to comment but was interrupted by the sound of a honk. Looking out her window, we saw Toby’s pedo-van in her driveway, steam billowing out the exhaust pipe.

“Show time.” Randy grinned and led the way downstairs.

“Don’t throw up,” I advised, following her.

“When have you known me to get physically ill? About anything?”

“Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen. I never throw up either, but once before a choir concert I got really, really nauseous. Of course, that may well have been due more to the fact that the flu was going around as opposed to actually being nervous.”

Randy stopped in the middle of the stairs and turned toward me, eyebrows high and face very obviously displaying her usual look of, ‘Seriously?’ I shrugged, unsure of what else to do. She shook her head and continued down the stairs.

After packing ourselves tightly into winter outerwear, we stepped outside to face the ten degree weather.

“Hurry the fuck up!” Toby shouted from the driver’s seat. “My heat’s broken!”

“How the hell are we supposed to make it to Roselin without turning into fucking popsicles, Toby?”

“Survival huddle!” Leif shouted, throwing his arms around Randy and myself, pulling us close. His hand knocked into Randy’s head on the way and almost knocked off her hat. She grabbed it at the last second and gave me a wide eyed look. I returned the expression, and we both let out a sigh of relief. About two seconds later we had pulled up outside Chuck’s house. Toby honked the horn again and we waited.

“You know,” I said, “if I was anything like my older sister, I wouldn’t have exited the house when beckoned by your incessant honking.”

“My honking isn’t incessant!” Toby objected. “It’s informative! And it’s too fucking cold to get out.”

“Because it’s so warm in here already,” Leo said.

“It’s getting warmer! The more bodies we add, the warmer it gets!”

“You should get the heat fixed otherwise you’ll never attract little children,” Randy said.

“It is not a pedophile van, okay?” Toby’s voice raised in pitch.

“Then why do you have a bag of candy hidden under the front seat?” Leif held up a large bag of assorted candy. Randy held out her hand, and Leif opened the bag, offering it to us. We both took a piece.

Toby’s mouth opened and closed a few times before his brain started working again. “I did not put that there!”

“Put what where?” Chuck asked as she climbed in the back with us.

“They’re planting candy in my van!” Toby explained.

“I’m confused.”

“Toby’s choice of transportation is also the prime choice of pedophiles. He refuses to accept this, claiming it was the biggest and cheapest vehicle he could find to haul all of our equipment. We believe he’s in denial,” Randy explained.

“I am not in denial!” Toby shouted, his voice turning to a squeak.

“Just drive already!” Jacob shouted from the front seat. “We’re going to be fucking late.”

The rest of the ride consisted of nervous, idle chatter. The closer we got, the worse everyone’s nerves became. At one point, I was worried we were going to crash, Toby’s hands were shaking so bad on the steering wheel. But eventually we made it, alive.

Chuck and I almost offered to help unload the van but knew we’d only get in the way and have to ask too many questions about where things went. Instead we ran ahead and held open doors.

Backstage was like a chaotic maze, and I was starting to wish I had worn a bell of some kind so people could find me once I got lost, because the reality of it was inevitable. It was as if Randy could read my mind – or perhaps she just knew me that well – because as soon as I started peaking around corners, she called to me, “Don’t get lost.”

I quickly stood up straight and faced her, doing my best to look innocent. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Randy merely raised her eyebrow and turned back to her drum set.

Embarrassed at having been caught, I headed back to the group and stood against the wall, watching everyone frantically sort through and unpack their gear. It took about ten minutes to hook up the millions of cords and pieces and another twenty to run through their set – or “soundcheck” as Randy informed me it was called.

After Missing the Ground, it was Panic’s turn to soundcheck, but I didn’t care much about them and neither did Chuck, so while they waited to watch and meet, Chuck and I headed in the direction we believed was Missing the Ground’s dressing room. We had barely collapsed onto one of the sofas when the door opened again.

“Bitches be looking lovely tonight!” Mikey shouted as he entered. “I just saw Randy, and she’s looking fucking hot.”

I laughed and waved hello. Then my eyes landed on Tristan, who was walking in behind Mikey, and my breath caught. Suddenly I was a million times more nervous than before, and this time it had nothing to do with the concert.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he sat on the arm of the sofa next to me. “How long have you guys been here?”

“Not long. I take it you guys found your way pretty easily?”

“You fucking wish!” Mikey interrupted. “Magellan over here nearly took us all the fucking way downtown. Into the a-wrong-look-will-get-you-shot part of town,” he clarified. “Took us forty-five fucking minutes to find our way back!”

“You were supposed to be looking at road signs!” Tristan argued. “I was busy making sure we didn’t crash.”

Mikey sat down between Chuck and me, slinging an arm over each of our shoulders. “He’s a good guy though,” he told us. “I think true love’s first kiss is what gave him a fighting chance.”

Tristan rolled his eyes, seemingly unaffected by Mikey’s comment, but I could feel a blush creep up my cheeks. Not long after, everyone else trundled into the room. Leif was the last one in. When he spotted Mikey, he gave an almost imperceptible pause before he slunk in and sat on the floor next to Randy.

“So when’s this shindig getting started?” Tristan asked.

“Soon,” was all Randy said. We waited for another response but it seemed as if none of the band members had the ability of speech, either too deep in thought or trying to keep from vomiting. We continued to sit in silence until a younger girl poked her head into the room.

“Ten minutes.”

Randy immediately pulled a set of drumsticks out of her back pocket and began tapping crazy rhythms on the practice pad on the table. Leif laid flat on the floor, a guitar in his hands, strumming softly and humming with his eyes closed. Toby whispered sweet nothings to Ivy on the phone (she had to go to her cousin’s wedding out of town) while he practiced on a small keyboard. And Jacob went into deep meditation mode while Leo tried not to hyperventilate.

Mikey, Tristan, and I worked on helping Leo to take slow, deep breaths – the goal was ten in a row – but every time we got to the fourth breath, he’d start to freak, and we’d have to start all over again. Chuck sat on the opposite end of the couch, next to Jacob, and watched him, just as silent as he was.

“You guys are on.” It was the same girl from before.

Everyone stood, solemnly, the nerves finally escalating to point of calm. The band followed the girl out of the room, and we followed behind them, winding and twisting our way through the hallways toward the stage. We stopped on the very edge. We could see the crowd from where we were hidden. The entire placed was packed with bodies and each of them was talking loudly, excitedly, ready for the show to start.

Randy shook her hands as she walked over to me, drumsticks back in her pocket.

“Time?” I asked. She nodded. No one really paid attention to us until Randy ripped off her beanie and Chuck gasped.

“It’s fucking blue!” Mikey shouted.

Randy took the hat from my head, put it on, and walked onto the stage. Leif’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for breath. Jacob, eyes a little wider than normal, pushed him onstage. Toby and Leo followed suit, also staring at Randy’s head.

“Sup, motherfuckers?” Randy asked into the mic.

Some of the crowd shouted responses while the rest cheered.

“We’re Missing the Ground,” Jacob said. Leif was still at a loss for words. He stood with his back to the audience, gesturing to his hair, until Jacob roughly turned him around. “You might like this,” Jacob continued, and right on cue, Leif strummed the first chord and the whole band took off.

Though it appeared as if Leif had completely forgotten about Randy’s hair, for those of us who knew him it was obvious that he had not. He hid his curious glances with spinning in circles and jumping off Randy’s bass drum, and though they were antics he usually pulled during a show, he didn’t usually pull them as often.

Regrettably, I drank far too much at Randy’s house, on the way here, and during soundcheck, and I couldn’t hold it any longer. I simply had to go to the bathroom.

“I’ll be right back!” I shouted in Tristan’s ear. I didn’t really want to leave because they were playing the song I had recently decided was my favorite, and Tristan had his arm around my shoulder, but sometimes Mother Nature decides to be a bitch.

I found my way there easily enough, but on the way back I got a little lost and took a wrong turn somewhere because I could no longer hear the sounds of the band or the crowd. I was in an entirely new set of hallways, and nothing looked familiar. I started to panic. I had no way to describe where I was except in a hallway with lots of doors. I rounded a corner quickly and collided with someone’s chest. We each made the obligatory <i>oompf</i> and took a step back.

He was taller than me with dark hair and brown eyes. I didn’t recognize him, but he had a name badge hanging out of his jeans pocket with the name “Brendon” on it. I assumed he worked here.

“I’m lost,” I said.

“You shouldn’t be back here!” he said at the same time.

“I know,” I said, “but I got turned around somehow.”

“Of course you did.” He was completely unconvinced. “Listen, I’m sorry you wasted all the effort to get past security, but we’re not signing autographs right now. Zack,” he called.

A very large, very bald man stepped out of the room right behind him.

“Wait a second,” I said, holding up my hands and taking a tentative step backwards.

“Can you do something about this?”

The bald guy nodded and came toward me.

“Wait a second,” I said more sternly. “I didn’t sneak my way back here. I’m here watching my best friend’s band open for… Panic Dance and I had to go to the bathroom. I got lost on my way back to the stage.”

“Sounds pretty legit,” the big guy said, looking back at Brendon – who apparently didn’t work here.

“I don’t care,” Brendon said, waving us off with his hand. “This band’s only got two more songs, and I like them. I don’t want to miss the end.” He walked past us and disappeared around corner.

“Come on, kid,” Zack said. “Maybe you can get an autograph or something after the show.”

“Wait!” I shouted as he started to usher me away. “I have one of those pass thingies! Like he had!”

“Oh, really?” He eyed me suspiciously.

“Yes, really.” I checked my front pocket, thinking that’s where I’d put it, but it wasn’t there. I began patting my other pockets and almost started to panic again when he Zack took a step forward to usher me out front. I stuck my hands in my back pockets, praying I hadn’t lost it, when I felt it. “Aha!” I shouted, pulling it out and showing it to him.

“VIP,” he read, nodding. “Sorry about that. We can’t be too careful sometimes. Follow me, I’ll take you back to the stage.” He stopped trying to use force and walked casually past me. He stopped at the corner Brendon had disappeared around and turned back to me. “You coming?”

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded and hurried to catch up. We walked right past the bathrooms, and I realized I had taken a left in my attempt to get back instead of a right; I had to roll my eyes. “Thank you,” I said when I got close enough to see my friends.

“Don’t worry about it.” Zack smiled and continued walking.

When I stopped next to Tristan, across the stage I could barely see Brendon and Zack standing with a few other people, watching Missing the Ground. I felt Tristan’s arm slip around my shoulder again then his breath in my ear.

“What took you so long, you get lost?” he laughed.

“Actually, yes. Then I had to convince this big guy and this little dude that I didn’t sneak backstage but was, in fact, lost. It took a lot longer than I’d thought.”

Tristan laughed harder at my explanation, and the song ended. His laughter sounded a lot louder in the few seconds of silence between the end of the song and applause of the crowd. Mikey leaned forward to look around Chuck at me and him, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. Tristan shook his head at Mikey then kissed my temple before head banging to Missing the Ground’s last song of the night.

From that point on, I couldn’t focus on Randy or any of the guys, the words they were singing, the music they were the playing, the antics they were pulling. My heart was racing in my chest, my face was burning, and I felt like the whole world could see me excitement. It made me embarrassed which only made my face flush more. It was like an endless, vicious cycle.

But before I knew it, Missing the Ground was climbing off the dark stage to loud cheers and whistling. Each of them was disgustingly sweaty with too-big grins on their faces. Leif walked up behind Randy and ruffled her blue hair. The second his hand touched her head, Randy ducked away and glared.

“Do that again, Sutcliffe, and I will cut it off and I know you will <i>sorely</i> miss it.”

“Ooooh!” Mikey cooed. “If looks could kill, you’d be fucking <b>dead</b>, my man!”

“What did you guys think?” Jacob asked, not caring about Randy or Leif.

“You guys were fantastic!” Chuck shouted, launching herself at Jacob and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She pulled away just as quickly, both of them blushing furiously. I didn’t feel so embarrassed anymore.

I turned to share a knowing look with Randy but she wasn’t where my eyes had left her. She was farther away, standing next a table covered in coolers of water and other beverages. Leif was standing with her, talking frantically and moving his hand toward her head. Every time he got close, though, Randy would smack his hand away, hard, but he just kept talking and trying. I rolled my eyes.

Suddenly, the crowd began to cheer again. We all turned to the stage. It looked completely different, and Zack was standing behind the microphone.

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for...” he paused for dramatic effect. You could almost hear the crowd holding their breath. “Panic! At. The. Discooooo!”

Tall, skinny, dark-haired Brendon led the way onstage, a white guitar strapped around his neck. Three other guys slowly followed him. He stopped at the microphone Zack had been using and smiled sheepishly into it.

“Hello,” he said. “We’re Panic! At The Disco.” The crowd screamed, and his smile grew. “Are you fucking ready to party?” he shouted. The crowd went wild, and the band started to play.

“That’s Brendon Urie,” Randy shouted in my ear.

“I know. We’ve already met,” I shouted back, glaring. Randy looked at me, confused. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, exactly, but something about Brendon Urie really, really pissed me off.