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

“What? When?” Randy asked. “And how?”

“I had to go the bathroom, and I got lost.” I looked away from Randy as I said this, knowing she’d have some look or comment. I always get lost, always. “I took a wrong turn and ran into him backstage. He tried to have me thrown out.”

“What?” It was no longer an inquisitive question but rather incredulous. “Didn’t you show him your pass?”

“I couldn’t find it right away. He didn’t believe I had one at all, anyway. He tried to get that big, bald guy to escort me outside then he left. Thankfully I found that stupid pass or I would have been stuck outside for the rest of the night.”

“We would have come to find you eventually,” Randy assured me, smiling. “We couldn’t leave without our Joseybean!”

“I know, but... he just wasn’t very nice about it. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain before he tried to have me hauled off. Who does that?”

“Famous people that get bombarded by crazy fans all the time.”

“And you want that?” I asked, starting to realize the full impact of tonight. “You want to turn in to one of those people?”

“I want the music,” Randy corrected. “I want to be good at something for the rest of my life.”

“Just don’t turn into him and I won’t hate you then.”

Randy’s smile widened to her usual maniacal grin. “I’ll try not to.”

Even though Brendon’s personality continued to weigh on my patience, it was kind of fun to watch the band perform. They all seemed like very silly people, fun to be around and know – with the obvious exception of Brendon. He seemed so incredibly fake to me; like he tried too hard to put on a good show for the audience. I found it almost impossible to believe that everyone seemed to like him so much.

I tried to ignore it though because the band was really good and Brendon’s voice wasn’t bad and Tristan kept putting his arm around my shoulder and nudging me and dancing with me. Apparently he knew very well who Panic! At The Disco was. It made me feel a little bit more out of the loop. It helped that Chuck was as clueless as me, but she was preoccupied with Jacob. Randy and I kept shooting each other knowing glances; it wouldn’t be long before they got together.

When Panic strummed their last chord and the lights went out, the crowd went wild: stomping and shouting for an encore, but they just marched offstage, grins stretching from ear to ear and bodies covered in sweat. I saw Brendon slap the guitarist on the back as they disappeared into the shadows on the other side of the stage.

Somehow we all got convinced to put our heavy coats and scarves back on to go outside and put everything back in Toby’s shitty van. This time Chuck and I decided to help because we wanted to get out of the cold air and into the warm bowling alley as fast as possible. Tristan and Mikey were going to help, but they decided it was more fun to make fun of us and Toby’s van.

“What a piece of fucking shit,” Mikey laughed. “How are you not afraid you’ll die every time you get into it?”

“It’s a very safe vehicle,” Toby defended.

“For the suicidally inclined,” Tristan said.

Randy stopped trying to lift the big bass drum into the back of the van and collapsed against it, holding her stomach and laughing so hard she began to wheeze.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, trying not to smile at the look of hurt on Toby’s face and Randy’s rambunctious amusement. I reached out to the grab the discarded bass drum when a hand wrapped around the handle next to time. My head shot up to come face to face with a round faced guy who looked kind of a like a bear, especially with his face covered in hair.

“Hi,” he grinned, his breath spilling out of his mouth in huge clouds.

“Hi,” I replied. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place why.

“They’re kind of tricky to lift up sometimes,” he said.

“Oh.”

“I’m Spencer,” he said, chuckling.

“I’m Josey,” I said. We shoved the drum into the back of the van with a huff.

“Your friends look like they’re having fun.”

“They’re making fun of Toby’s van. It’s become quite a cherished pastime, I think.”

Spencer eyed the van and everyone standing around it. “What’s wrong with his van?”

Randy, Leif, Mikey, Tristan, and even Leo took this as their chance to explain exactly what was wrong with Toby’s van, but since they all spoke at once, Spencer didn’t catch one word of it. Toby, however, understood them just fine.

“There’s nothing wrong with my van!” he shouted, pouting.

“Aww, Tobes,” Randy cooed, pushing off the van and pulling him into a hug. “We’re just kidding.”

“As nice as your fucking Hallmark moment is, I’m fucking cold, and I want to go fucking bowling! Let’s move it, slaves!” Mikey shouted, cracking a pretend whip. Spencer started to laugh, and Mikey turned on him. “I’m not kidding, bitch! Get on with it!”

The smile quickly disappeared from Spencer’s face, and he exaggeratedly double timed his movements, helping us haul the rest of the equipment into the van while Randy yelled at Mikey for being rude.

“Hey, you don’t tell drummers what to do, hobag!”

“There you are!” someone shouted as we closed the doors.

“Miss me that much?” Spencer asked.

It hit me then why Spencer was so familiar looking and why he seemed to know so much about packing away a drum set. The newcomer was the very same bassist I had seen Brendon slap on the back after the show. He was much shorter and skinnier in person. I felt rather large standing next to him.

“Nah, Brendon’s just throwing a fit because he thinks you’ve been ‘eaten by one of those damn godless bears.’”

Randy stopped yelling at Mikey.

“What the fuck?” Jacob asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Brendon’s on this thing about bears eating gold miners.”

“...I knew there was a reason I liked that kid,” Randy breathed.

I had to stop and think. I could understand disliking bears. Bears could be dangerous. I had a friend who went camping once and a bear ripped off the top of his jeep – granted it was a soft top, and they left all their food in the car thinking it would be safe – but the point is that bears are strong and scary. However, how Brendon connected bears and gold miners, I did not understand.

When we finally headed for the bowling alley I greatly regretted telling Tristan I’d be fine riding in the van; I honestly didn’t think it was that far from the venue. We anxiously headed toward the warm building when I felt a hand lightly touch my arm. I turned to face Brendon and resisted saying anything.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked. Still unable to trust myself to say something nice, I just nodded and hung back while everyone else got to go inside and thaw. “I just wanted to say sorry about earlier. I was kinda nervous already and then—” He gestured to me. “—random person wandering around backstage and you know how fangirls are and… I wigged out.”

I held back a scoff. “I understand that people get nervous but you still could have given me a chance to explain. Not everyone’s out to get in your pants, you know.”

“That’s not what I meant. I was just in the zone—”

“And that gives you an excuse to be rude to people? Because you’re ‘in the zone?’”

“No,” Brendon protested, “it’s not an excuse. I was just trying to explain why—”

“Which is an excuse! You’re just trying to paint yourself in a good light!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“It makes perfect sense! You just want me to like you so our friends don’t think you’re an egotistical douche.”

“What is the matter with you?” Brendon asked incredulously. “I just wanted to apologize!”

“Well apology not accepted,” I said. I twisted on my foot and stomped inside. I had the guise of stomping snow off my boots to work out some of my frustration but when I stepped closer to the crowd of our friends around the counter, Randy noticed a little something amiss.

“What’s with you?” she asked.

“Nothing. Can we just get our shoes and bowl?” Randy just gave me her usual ‘are you fucking joking’ look. “That Brendon guy’s a fucking prick. ‘Nough said.”

Randy raised her eyebrows and slowly turned away. “Oooookay…”

Once everyone got shoes and we were assigned lanes, we began to disperse into smaller groups. Somehow it settled into Brendon, Spencer, Zack (whom I discovered was not only their friend but their personal body guard when on tour), and Randy against Tristan, Mikey, Leif, and myself. Team Awesome (them) against the Skinny Bitches (us). Brendon and Randy, with encouragement from Mikey and Leif, thought it would be amusing to created team names and make a small competition out of it.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that my team was probably going to lose. Leif had apparently never really bowled before coming to the States but he was pretty damn good despite, and Mikey was fantastic. That being said, I was only mediocre and Tristan was dreadful. We were sort of equally matched in skill and score: Randy was always one of the best when we went out and Zack was proving to be a close second while Brendon’s score was all over the place – much like mine – and Spencer’s were the worst for their team.

When it was my turn, I stepped up to the line shortly after Brendon and waited, which turned out to be a very wise decision as he threw the ball with such gusto that it completely missed his lane and flew into mine. It nearly kept going except it got caught up on the divider and fell into the gutter were it loudly rumbled down the lane and marked my first pitch as a zero.

Partly from a rush of adrenaline from the fear of this heavy pink ball hurtling my way and partly out of anger that he stole my first score, I rounded on him. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

He was laughing heavily as was everyone else. “It was an accident,” he choked out. “I’m sorry.” His laughter died out a little and the amusement sort of froze on his face. “Wait, you don’t accept apologies so never mind.” He turned and headed back to his seat, high-fiving Spencer on his way. “Can you believe that? I thought it was going to keep going!”

“Fuck you,” I said quietly and went to my own seat.

“Hey,” Tristan said quietly, trying to hide his chuckles, “you forgot to bowl.”

I stomped my foot as I stood back up, walked up to the line, chucked the ball and turned back before it even completely left my hand. I only glanced at the scoreboard and saw it was another gutter. I was so frustrated and angry that I threw terribly for the rest of the night and it was all aided by the constant exchange of angry glares between Brendon and myself. The Skinny Bitches ended up losing, not that anyone really cared by the end of the night. We were all just tired and not looking forward to the drive home in Toby’s freezing van.

We hung around outside the bowling alley for a little while, waiting for their van with the working heat to warm up and giving everyone a chance to say their goodbyes. I didn’t much care to say goodbye to anyone after Spencer so I leaned against the wall in the corner. Tristan noticed after a while and joined me.

“Tired?” he chuckled.

“Exhausted. This night was way longer than I thought.

“Well, I have something that may make it worth it,” he said quietly.

I looked up at him curiously to find his nervous face very close to mine, and then his lips were on mine and my eyes fluttered closed. And I could feel my heart speeding up and his hands on my arms, holding me closer as we deepened the kiss just a little but not enough for a grotesque makeout session. Then he pulled back and pecked my lips one more time before I heard him say,

“I know we’ve only known each other for a couple of months but I really like you. Would you… be my girlfriend?”

I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. I knew my cheeks had to be brighter than the sun and I was sure I was smiling like a fool so I just nodded, blissfully happy.

My happy news made the ride home quite a bit better than it would have been, but all was ruined when Randy and I got up to my room.

“So what did Brendon do to get your knickers in a twist?” she asked, flopping down on my bed.

“Ugh! Don’t fucking mention him to me!” I said, all thoughts of Tristan immediately erased from my head.

“Okay. What did he do?”

I glared at her. “Just because you don’t say his name doesn’t mean you’re not mentioning him.” I turned to my closet to grab some pajamas but changed my mind and whipped back around. Randy had opened her mouth to say something but I cut her off. “No, you know what, I’ll tell you what he fucking did. He had the gall to apologize to me!”

Randy stared. “Oh, the audacious depravity of him?”

“Precisely! He thought he could make everything peachy keen between us; presumably so I wouldn’t make a scene in front of everyone.”

“Because you have such decorum now.”

"Oh! He think he's such a fucking prince! Everyone just loves him and adores him and falls at his feet! But I've got his number! I know what he's really about, and I'm not going to let him fucking take me in. You can't pull the wool over my eyes! My mama didn't raise no fool!" Randy sat there, staring at me with her mouth open, at a complete loss for words. “What?” I snapped.

“Did you hear anything you just said?” she asked. “You sound like a fucking nutter!”

"What the hell are you talking about? Did you hear anything I just said? I just told you this guy's an absolute fake, and you're staring at me like I've got beans growing out my ears."

“He’s a fake because he wanted to apologize to you for being rude?”

"No! His apology was fake! His attitude was fake! He wants everyone to think he's this wonderful guy and he's not, and he let that slip to me and now he's trying to fix it. He's trying to cover up his mistake."

“Please don’t be offended by this, Jos, but you’re mental.”

"See? He's got you fooled too. I'm sorry, but I'm going to do what I can to prove to you he's not that fantastic. I can't believe people idolize this guy! And if he's got this many people fooled, how bad are his bandmates?"

“In all the time you’ve known me, how often have I put up with people’s fake bullshit?” Randy asked, quickly adding, “You met this guy once.”

"Maybe he's just a really good fucking actor and I caught him off guard! And I've had two encounters with the guy! It only takes one to see someone's true self. Like I said, he slipped and now he's trying to cover it up."

Randy sat up straight. “I hung out with him all day, and you think you have a better grasp on his personality than I do?!”

I threw up my hands. "Then I don't know, Randy! All I know is he was a complete dick to me and his apology was less than sincere."

Randy shook her head. “You’re not fucking listening.” She got off the bed and started packing up her stuff.

I felt a bit of panic rise in my stomach as I realized this had turned into a fight between us. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? It’s late and it’s cold. Just… take my room and I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs.”

“No, fuck it. I’m going home.”

“Fine,” I said. “Just… fine!”

Randy said nothing as she threw her bag over her shoulder and stomped out of my room, down the stairs, and out of the house. I kicked my shoes across the room as I took them off and collapsed onto my bed, still fully clothed and still covered in makeup, and fell into a fitful sleep.