Black Rose Dying

“Matt! Matt! Goddamnit, you moose! Give me my drink!”

“Sorry, Adrienne. It’s for your own good; consider this your intervention,” Matt smirked at my anguished face, which quickly contorted into something similar to a banshee before I verbally assaulted him. “You have better things to do than to take a grown woman’s soda! Go take Beau’s Starbucks, you don’t give him shit for drinking it every day!”

“Ah, but young Padawan—he admits to his addiction. You, frankly, are in denial of this Sprite fetish.”

“It’s not a fetish!” I whined. Eric came over to see what all the commotion was about, as it distracted him from tuning the guitars. “Both of you are being ridiculous,” he groaned. He swiped my Sprite from matt’s thin fingers and gave it back to me.

“Leave Adri alone,” Eric mumbled,” You need to soundcheck your drums anyway, Muppet.”
Matt rolled his eyes in concession, “You’re such a joy kill sometimes, Er.” My ginger-headed friend shook his head, clapped his hand onto Matt’s shoulder and guided him back onto the stage.

I walked back to the merch table where Dougie was setting up the metal-hook wall, where we’d soon hang various tee shirts and their prices up relatively shortly. “Y’know, for being the top of your class, you’re pretty dumb sometimes.”

“Yeah? How’s that?” I prodded.

“You don’t know what’s in front of you. Well, no, obviously you do, since you don’t take anything for granted,” he huffed as one hook wall went up, “all I’m saying is maybe you need to open your eyes more.”

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t unhinge my slightly slack jaw from Dougie’s bluntness. Vague, yes, but for Dougie, that was the most direct thing he’d said to me since we met last year. I handed him a sample shirt of each style for him to hang on each of the hanger-like clips onto the wall. The work was quiet between us—Dougie and Beau were best friends, and Dougie’s words were still ringing through my ears.

Eventually, the doors opened and the kids came rushing in like usual. D and I exchanged few words; both of us keeping busy and staying out of each other’s “bee line” as we called it. Nothing unusual there.

IWABO went on stage and slayed it. The kids seemed especially enthusiastic about their song “Smells Like Kevin Bacon”. I couldn’t help but notice an eyesore in the crowd. She kept in the back, where the audience was the most sparse. She was 5’7”, and honestly, beautiful. Her long slender nose had a slight upturn at the end, which was only complimented even more by her shoulder length, choppy brown hair. She would look over at me, graze over my face with her eyes, and turn away before I could see her face straight on. By the time Blessthefall came out, she already had had a few drinks and was swaying more and more with each song. It wasn’t her being tipsy that made it hard to look at her; it was her obnoxious 5 inch heels and pink leopard print halter top. Her clouded eyed kept drifting over to our table, becoming glassier with each new glance.

The boys’ set was good, even if Beau was already beginning to sound tired, which means that Jared had to double up on screaming. Beau’s voice couldn’t take the stress while a hoarse voice was developing. It was a hard night of performing for both of them. After We’ll Sleep When We’re Dead, Beau bid the crowd farewell. Their instruments were dropped, gently, onto the carpeted stage. Beau’s misty blue eyes caught mine during the whole set, but I don’t know who stared at whom first. It was one of those looks that spanned a lifetime in a moment.

As the boys walked over to the table, I noticed Miss Leopard Print moseying over in an intoxicated swagger. She went up to Matt first. “Hi! I’m Catiee! And you looked REAALLLLY good up there,” she slurred. Not digging her vibe, he conceded a quiet thanks and walked over to Mike, who was chugging a water bottle. She obviously had a problem with rejection.

Her face said exactly what she was thinking, He wasn’t that hot anyways. Complete with pretentious face-crumpling.

Her next victim: Beau. I kept my eye on her; Beau was too nice for his own good when it came to women. He couldn’t reject anyone for the life of him. I could almost hear the entirety of their conversation, bits and pieces were cut out due to the hum of chatter from the kids.

Their speaking consisted of: one part awkward Beau, plus one part tacky pick up line equals one icky situation. After trying to put her hands on him for the third time, Mike noticed and came to save him.

Mike’s coy smile was extremely charming when he wanted it to be; other times, it just came off as condescending. Tonight was definitely the night to use his charm, though. However, the girl’s large, doe-like green eyes saw through his translucent blues and was looking for something else. Catiee was on a hell-bent path, and Jared just happened to be in her way.

Now, this was not okay.

She made a bull-dozed line to him with no time to waste. Jared was always nice to fans. He’d make them pinky promises and keep them if they were reasonable. And they were always reasonable. So the fact that this girl was snaking an arm around his waist wasn’t a warning sign for him. He liked looking for the best in people.

She gradually became more and more touchy, allowing her hands to roam over his chest and close to his belt, with which he would squirm away. He looked over to me and saw my eyes burning holes through her back. He used his eyes as a pointer to visually guide me over to him. I caught Dougie’s attention and signaled to him that I was going to be back soon. I ruffled my hair to give it a tousled, slightly sexy look, and walked casually over.

Jared cracked his biggest smile when I stood next to him, allowing his arm to loop around my shoulders. His damp body radiated heat and his signature cologne, which mingled with mine. Obviously, this seemingly insignificant affectionate gesture didn’t fly with Miss Thing. “Uhm, excuse me?” The alcohol was effecting her speech even more by this point.

“We were talking, weren’t we, Jake?”

“It’s, uh, It’s Jared,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“He said his name is Jared. But apparently you’re too impaired to even remember a two-syllable name,” I growled.

“Who do you think you are?” she asked, while pointing her acrylic nail right into my face.

“I’m Adrienne. And I think you need to go home.”

Catiee looked up to Jared with her glassy eyes and said, “You need to keep your bitch on a leash before she does anything stupid.”

And then I snapped. “What did you call me, skank?” Her eyes finally met mine boldly.

“I said you’re a bitch. Got a problem with that, sugar?”

My adrenaline began pumping as my fists clenched by my side. “Oh no, no, not at all.” Jared tensed next to me. “But my hands are gonna have a meeting with your face!”

Operation: Attack Stupid Bitch was a go. So became my first fist fight.

Her delicately painted face smeared when my fist met her cheekbones. She didn’t even try to hit me back—was that a Southern Belle type thing? All she cared about was her orange perfect face. How pathetic. Her hands flew to her face in an attempt to protect it, but I tore them away to hit her nose upward, causing a sickening crunch and a spurt of blood to erupt. She whined as she tried to get up, wobbling and uneasy. But no. That Catiee was a damn good actress. She balled her hands together and socked me good and hard in the stomach, making me lose my breath. This was war.

I grabbed a chunk of her hairspray infested hair to keep her close to me and smashed her face into the concrete floor. I hadn’t noticed in my rage filled state that the boys, and the majority of the crowd had gathered around us so neither of us could whimp out. Catiee wriggled out of my grasp and looked at me for the first time since the fight. She tried to wipe her bleeding nose on her hand, which only smeared the blood across her cheekbones to make her look like an old tribal warrior. Her eyes were dim, a darker green with heavier lids than when I first caught her glancing at the table. She stared at me for a solid ten seconds before she broke through the ring of people and left the venue.

I stood, slightly dumbstruck at what just happened. Did I really just beat some girl up? I couldn’t have…but then why were Mike and Beau shaking my shoulders in cheering? And why did Jared bury my face in his chest? “I, I need…to go…sit down,” I gasped, surprised at how much my legs were shaking. Beau stepped in front of me and stooped down, a gesture for me to mount him for a piggy back ride. I jumped limply onto his muscular back, then he jostled my tired body in order to get a better grip on my legs. “Hold on tight, teacup,” he whispered. He then parted the audience, much like the Red Sea, to take me to the van. He opened the passenger door for me and buckled me in.

Jumping into the driver’s seat, he drove the 15 minute jaunt to the nearest hotel. They were playing the same venue two days in a row, so getting a closer hotel was more convenient. For the short drive, I fell asleep with my temples throbbing. Too soon, Beau woke me up by rubbing my arm and pushing my bangs out of my face. My eyes just barely opened, when I felt strong, rippling arms lift me from the seat. His breathing didn’t skip a beat while carrying me. I could feel the disapproving eyes of the hotel hostess as Beau checked into our new room. I fell back asleep in his arms until I felt the bed beneath me. Beau hurriedly scribbled a note, most likely for me, and the heavy wooden door closed behind him to get the boys.

He arrived back at the venue, where Dougie packed the shirts up in record time so everything would be ready to load. When in the car, Eric was the one to break the silence.
“Dudes. Was I the only one who noticed that Adrienne, OUR Adrienne, fought someone for the first time EVER?!”

The guys all looked at him as the realization dawned on them. A whole mass of gibberish exploded.

“That was awesome!”

“Who woulda thunk it…”

“SHE SET THE BAR FOR THE WHOOOOLE TOUR!”

They excitedly exchanged comments until they came into the room where I was sleeping.
“I feel like one of the seven dwarves after Snow White first comes into their house,” Eric whispered.

“You shouldn’t feel like a dwarf Eric; you ARE one,” Mike snickered.

The boys lost their composure, which woke me up. “Hmmm? What?” All their eyes were glued to me.

“Go back to sleep, Adri,” Beau whispered. I needed no further prompting from them and drifted back to Neverland. They did their best to get ready quietly, but they’re boys and they’re clumsy—so of course Matt tripped over the night stand and knocked over a lamp.

The bed sank as someone lay down next to me. Beau. His barely there cologne was comforting; he laid right next to me and moved my head so that I was cuddling up to his chest. The other side of the bed tipped with the weight of another body and Beau hissed a whisper. “WHAT are you DOING?”

“You’re not the only one that wants to look after her.” Jared made himself comfortable so that we were butt to butt, and I finally fell to sleep as I listened to Beau’s heartbeat skip and Jared’s light snoring.