Romance on Warped Tour?
Chapter 5: What The *** Were You Thinking?
I looked at Rachel’s nose and shook my head. I scanned the crowd for the ass that did that. I grabbed his shirt front, “Buck your shit up, assfuck.” I hiss at him and throw him at Rachel, “Take her to first aid.” I add, as I pull the plug on the amps and motion at the sound desk to cut all power.
I turn to the band, “Move. NOW!” They shift, “Stick together for fucks sake!” I shout, as I turn the drummer round as point him in the direction of the rest of the band.
What is it with drummers and a lack of brain? I follow the band and see them safely to their bus. “Sorry about that – a slight amount of under staffing.” I smile and shut the door. Thank God they listened. I returned to the main stage at a jog, expecting to have to pitch in and help the other blokes.
When I turned up it looked like World War Three had hit the stage. There were Security guys and bands and merch guys all trying to control a crowd. I don’t mind anarchy but this was stupid. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the drum riser. Walking towards it I grinned manically. I picked up a mic and my whistle that was always round my neck. I put the whistle in my mouth and held the mic to the whistle. This was gonna blow my ear drums if nothing else did! I held my breath and blew. The pea within the whistle went mad, pinging off the walls of the whistle and creating a very loud “PHWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP”. I blew until I was red and couldn’t blow anymore.
Everyone was looking at me. I dropped my whistle and started talking into the mic.
“You absolute fuckers.” I started. Once more, everyone’s attention was on me. “One girl here has had her nose broken by some ass. We’ve had to escort a band from the stage to their bus! This is a concert – not a war ground. I know that if you work in Security you’ve got to be used to dealing with anarchy and anarchy I can handle. Jesus, you don’t work in underground punk clubs and dislike anarchy! This?! This is mindless fucking destruction. We have security for the fucking benefit of the crowd. If you can’t be fucking grateful for it then fuck off! I don’t particularly like the guys from Fall Out Boy and their music isn’t what I listen to out of choice, but I won’t ruin a concert like this for everyone else because I don’t like Pete Wentz! Stop being so fucking selfish and go back to school!” I switched the mic off and hopped from the drum riser to the stage. I felt someone tap my shoulder and I spun round to see a gorgeous pair of brown eyes and eyeliner draped down his face. I could feel my blush spreading towards my face. I bit my lip in a vain effort to stop the flood of blood.
“Was that my sister, Rachel, who had her nose broken?” Came a quiet Californian voice.
I nodded slowly, “Yeah. Sorry about that. I sent the kid that did it to take her to first aid. That was after I kicked his ass back into line.”
He nodded, “I don’t know where first aid is…”
I swallowed slowly, “Uhm, ok. Well, uhm… yeah. Nor do I.” I blushed again, my eyes
dropping to the floor.
He laughed gently, “Do you know someone that does?”
I frown, “Sure, Steve. And I have something to say to him too.” I stand on tip toes and scan the crowd. “Fucking hell! I hate being short!”
Slowly two strong arms clasped my waist and my feet left all contact with the floor. I gulped. I felt myself being rested on one broad shoulder, “Can you see now?”
“Uhuh.” I mumbled, “He’s over there.” I point to my left, “Handing kids off the stage.”
He carries me across the stage, still on his shoulder. “Oh, I’m Bri by the way.”
I nod, “I know. I really like your music. You fucking rock on guitar.” I can feel his head nod against my jeans. “Am I unsettling your hat?” I ask randomly. He looks up at me.
“No. But I would like to know your name?”
I blush, “Uhm, yeah. I’m Lou.”
“Nice to meet ya, Lou.” He offers me a hand, the one that’s not resting on my thigh and keeping me on his shoulder. I shake it.
“Nice meeting you too.” I mumble quietly to myself. We reach Steve and Bri puts me down, gently. “Thanks for that.” I tap Steve’s shoulder.
“If you want to get in the queue to be let down, the system will work a whole lot faster.” He tells me without looking round, “And then the concert can begin again.”
“If you hadn’t short staffed the main stage this wouldn’t be happening.” I tell him ice cold. He spins round to look at me, “What the FUCK were you THINKING?” I shout at
him.
“I wasn’t?” He pauses, “This isn’t good for my authority, Lou. Can you shout at me later?”
“This isn’t good for your authority? This isn’t fucking good for WARPED TOUR! Or my JOB!” I pause, and breathe deeply. I start again, at a lower volume this time, “And no, I’m not gonna shout at you later, because a) you’re not worth it and b) this man needs a guide to first aid. I don’t know where that is.”
Steve nods and takes off with Bri following him. I turn to fill Steve’s place and hand kids off the stage.
I turn to the band, “Move. NOW!” They shift, “Stick together for fucks sake!” I shout, as I turn the drummer round as point him in the direction of the rest of the band.
What is it with drummers and a lack of brain? I follow the band and see them safely to their bus. “Sorry about that – a slight amount of under staffing.” I smile and shut the door. Thank God they listened. I returned to the main stage at a jog, expecting to have to pitch in and help the other blokes.
When I turned up it looked like World War Three had hit the stage. There were Security guys and bands and merch guys all trying to control a crowd. I don’t mind anarchy but this was stupid. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the drum riser. Walking towards it I grinned manically. I picked up a mic and my whistle that was always round my neck. I put the whistle in my mouth and held the mic to the whistle. This was gonna blow my ear drums if nothing else did! I held my breath and blew. The pea within the whistle went mad, pinging off the walls of the whistle and creating a very loud “PHWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP”. I blew until I was red and couldn’t blow anymore.
Everyone was looking at me. I dropped my whistle and started talking into the mic.
“You absolute fuckers.” I started. Once more, everyone’s attention was on me. “One girl here has had her nose broken by some ass. We’ve had to escort a band from the stage to their bus! This is a concert – not a war ground. I know that if you work in Security you’ve got to be used to dealing with anarchy and anarchy I can handle. Jesus, you don’t work in underground punk clubs and dislike anarchy! This?! This is mindless fucking destruction. We have security for the fucking benefit of the crowd. If you can’t be fucking grateful for it then fuck off! I don’t particularly like the guys from Fall Out Boy and their music isn’t what I listen to out of choice, but I won’t ruin a concert like this for everyone else because I don’t like Pete Wentz! Stop being so fucking selfish and go back to school!” I switched the mic off and hopped from the drum riser to the stage. I felt someone tap my shoulder and I spun round to see a gorgeous pair of brown eyes and eyeliner draped down his face. I could feel my blush spreading towards my face. I bit my lip in a vain effort to stop the flood of blood.
“Was that my sister, Rachel, who had her nose broken?” Came a quiet Californian voice.
I nodded slowly, “Yeah. Sorry about that. I sent the kid that did it to take her to first aid. That was after I kicked his ass back into line.”
He nodded, “I don’t know where first aid is…”
I swallowed slowly, “Uhm, ok. Well, uhm… yeah. Nor do I.” I blushed again, my eyes
dropping to the floor.
He laughed gently, “Do you know someone that does?”
I frown, “Sure, Steve. And I have something to say to him too.” I stand on tip toes and scan the crowd. “Fucking hell! I hate being short!”
Slowly two strong arms clasped my waist and my feet left all contact with the floor. I gulped. I felt myself being rested on one broad shoulder, “Can you see now?”
“Uhuh.” I mumbled, “He’s over there.” I point to my left, “Handing kids off the stage.”
He carries me across the stage, still on his shoulder. “Oh, I’m Bri by the way.”
I nod, “I know. I really like your music. You fucking rock on guitar.” I can feel his head nod against my jeans. “Am I unsettling your hat?” I ask randomly. He looks up at me.
“No. But I would like to know your name?”
I blush, “Uhm, yeah. I’m Lou.”
“Nice to meet ya, Lou.” He offers me a hand, the one that’s not resting on my thigh and keeping me on his shoulder. I shake it.
“Nice meeting you too.” I mumble quietly to myself. We reach Steve and Bri puts me down, gently. “Thanks for that.” I tap Steve’s shoulder.
“If you want to get in the queue to be let down, the system will work a whole lot faster.” He tells me without looking round, “And then the concert can begin again.”
“If you hadn’t short staffed the main stage this wouldn’t be happening.” I tell him ice cold. He spins round to look at me, “What the FUCK were you THINKING?” I shout at
him.
“I wasn’t?” He pauses, “This isn’t good for my authority, Lou. Can you shout at me later?”
“This isn’t good for your authority? This isn’t fucking good for WARPED TOUR! Or my JOB!” I pause, and breathe deeply. I start again, at a lower volume this time, “And no, I’m not gonna shout at you later, because a) you’re not worth it and b) this man needs a guide to first aid. I don’t know where that is.”
Steve nods and takes off with Bri following him. I turn to fill Steve’s place and hand kids off the stage.