You're a Classic Like a Little Black Dress

After three days of avoiding Patrick like the plague, Spencer finally pulled me to one side after sound check.

“Okay, Jessie, I know he hurt you. But you have to be mature about this.” He stated, parting his fingers and combing them through his tousled hair.

Stubbornness was fast becoming my favourite feeling. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Placing both of his hands on my shoulders, he smiled softly, “Don’t lie to me, I know you do. But, Jess, you need to learn to keep your professional and social lives separate – as hard as it may be, you need to do it.”

A sigh escaped my lips; I looked over his shoulder and saw the stage door was open. There it was an exit, a way out, an escape route. I could run away, release myself from the pain and the tension, but I knew I would never be able to get past those feelings if I did that.

“How do you do that?” I questioned him, leaning my head against his chest.

“How do I do what?” he stroked my hair, he knew that was one of the easiest ways to comfort me as it’s what my dad used to do to me when I was upset.

“You’re always the sensible one,” I looked up at him, “you always know what to do. I’m four years older than you, but you’re always the one comforting me and helping me through things.”

“I don’t know, it’s just a gift.” He smirked at me.

Later on that day, Brendon, Jon and I were sitting in the lounge watching Chicago. Jon sat at one end of the couch and Brendon sat at the other. My head was in Brendon’s lap, while my feet were on Jon’s.

“Oh my god!” I said sitting bolt upright. “What’s the time!?”

Jon checked his watch, “It’s 5:04, why?”

“Shit, I’m supposed to pick up Eva in half an hour.” I grabbed a jacket and slid on some flip-flops (which I think were Jon’s) and ran to hail a cab.

After successfully hailing a taxi, and near enough screaming ‘Denver International’ at the poor driver, we were off.

I sat in the back, the cool black leather decreasing my skin temperature by no more than a degree or two, but it made me shiver. Wringing my hands, I earned a few cracks from my unwilling bones, I hoped I wasn’t late.

“Thank you so much,” I told the driver handing him his fee and a $5 tip.

Scanning through the signs above the entrance I found the terminal I was looking for. I ran, the thick soles of the flip-flops barely making any sound, and any noise that was made was getting lost in the ‘welcome back’ hugs or ‘bon voyage’ kisses.

My eyes skimmed over every person in the terminal (or so it seemed) before I noticed my sister. Instantly, I noticed her hair colour had changed, when I left a week before, it was such a dark brown everyone believed it was black. But now it was a deep purple, it suited her face very well.

“Eva!” I shouted, she looked over to me and her face lit up.

“Jess!” she wrapped me in a hug.

I took her hand and led her out of the rough and tumble of the airport.

When we arrived back on the bus, Spencer and Ryan were playing what I thought some sort of complicated card game. But upon closer inspection, I realised it was only snap.

“Guys, Eva’s here!” trying to tear Ryan and Spencer out of their ‘card-game-trances’ was undoubtedly tough, but when I screamed right next to them, they both looked up at me confused.

“What?!” they both shouted in response.

I pointed toward Eva who just smiled and waved. “Hi guys.”

“What’s she doing here?” Ryan asked, with an edge to his voice that I didn’t like.

“What do you think she’s doing here you idiot? She’s staying with us for a while.” I slapped him upside the head.

“But, why?” he persisted.

“Because I sai-” I got cut off by Eva standing up for herself.

“In case you hadn’t realised Ryan, I’m standing right here. I can hear everything you’re saying, I’m here to spend some time with my sister, you douche bag.”

He grinned. “Eva!” Their faces both lit up, I forgot, they did that (the ‘we-hate-each-other…not-really!’ thing) every single time they saw each other. It confused so many people, it was actually quite funny.

“45 minutes until show time!” Zack called onto the bus. I told Eva to make herself at home, despite the fact she’d already kicked off her shoes and was watching Jerry Springer on the TV.

I went and grabbed my make-up bag and my stage outfit and went to the backstage area.

After ridding myself of my jeans and t-shirt, I put on my tights and high-waisted shorts and a silver sequined bandeau top. I then ventured to my make-up. Feeling quite adventurous, I did my favourite of all my stage looks, the ‘Star’ Brendon had coined it.

I drew a star with pink shimmery eye shadow at the outer corner of my right eye, I then put orange, silver, yellow and pink lines coming out of it. Then, I blended them and they went right out, to my hair line.

“Looking very sexy tonight Jess!” Joe laughed as he came into our dressing room.

Suddenly, I remembered Eva, I’d forgotten her in the pre-show whirlwind.

We go in bout 10 mins. U going to watch frm side-stage?

Thirty or so seconds later, she replied.

Obvs! B over in a min x

In less than a minute, Eva stood in front of me. “Good luck sis!” She called as we walked on to the stage.

The show went brilliantly, we got to the closing song Mad As Rabbits and on a whim, I waved Eva over. My tambourine from an earlier song was lying on the floor next to me, I motioned to it and she picked it up, shaking it along with the song. Within no time, she was really into it, she even went over to Jon and harmonized with him on the last bit of the song. It was the perfect way to top off the song.

We came off stage to rapturous applause once again. My post-show high was very short lived though, I bumped into Patrick – literally – as we walked off stage.

The conversation I’d had with Spencer lingered in my mind as I said, “Good luck Patrick!”