Sick Little Games

Alex Gaskarth stuffed his hands in his black and white striped hoodie pocket, humming softly to himself. He walked past flashing lights and thousand mile-per-hour cars, on the road to no where. Alex loved Baltimore at night, that night, especially. The next day was the first day of summer (or rather, the first day of his summer vacation), and summer meant parties, even more than Alex usually attended. Parties where he could drink an endless amount of weird alcoholic mixtures, throw himself at girls, and forget everything there is to forget. Today was his last night to think; his last night to care; his last night to enjoy the city.

“Alex!”

“Hey Alex!”

“What’s up, Alex?”

“Yo Alex, coming to the party this weekend?”

Alex nodded towards the barely familiar faces that yelled (more like screeched) in his direction. A familiar smile crept its way along his lips: a smirk. His band, All Time Low, were what you’d call “hometown heroes” around Maryland. The result: everyone within a 100-mile radius knew his name. It was difficult to get used to in Alex’s perspective, but once he did, he came to love the spotlight. He felt like a celebrity, and was overjoyed every time someone stopped to tell him how much his music had changed their life. It was nice to know that his words had that kind of effect on people.

Continuing on his endeavor, Alex breathed in the soothing summer air and sighed it out when it began to clog up his lungs. He passed millions of street signs, buildings, and most importantly, people. It fascinated him how many different “breeds” there were in Maryland, and all across the globe as well. All the different hair colors. All the different clothing and styles. All with different places to go. All with a different purpose. Call him extra inquisitive, but he wondered what all those purposes were.

A girl stuck out to him in particular. Wavy brown hair clung to the side of her rosy cheeks, and a smile was plastered on her face. She kneeled next to a tiny girl in purple, who was crying, and held out an ice cream cone for her to grab. She wiped the tears off the little girl’s face, and the girl grinned, taking a huge bite of the ice cream, now being held in her hand.

There was no doubt in Alex’s mind that he has seen this girl before, but he wasn’t sure where exactly. She looked so average to a normal human eye, but not to Alex. He couldn’t explain why he wanted so badly to talk to her, but Alex Gaskarth did whatever he wanted, whether you were ready for him or not.

-----

Katherine Murphy picked at the chipped purple nail polish on the fingernails, sighing to herself. She hadn’t stepped foot Baltimore in three years, and she missed it more than she missed herself. Three years ago she was spontaneous and unpredictable. Three years ago she was happy and in love. It had been three years since she was actually herself. She felt as if a part of her was returning. She was home.

“My ice cweam!” Katherine looked over to see her little girl crouching down, staring at her ice cream cone, face down in the dirt. A soft smile formed on Katherine’s lips. “This is not funny!” the girl whined.

“I know baby girl,” Katherine cooed, taking her hand and buying her another ice cream cone. She kneeled next the tiny girl, wiped the tears off her face, and held it out to her. The girl grinned, taking a huge bite of the ice cream now being held in her hand.

“What’s her name?”

Katherine jumped slightly at the unexpected voice. She turned to look at who was speaking and her breath suddenly caught in her throat.

Of course seeing Alex in Baltimore had crossed her mind, but she never thought something so cliché would actually happen to her. She was obviously dead wrong, because it was definitely him who was standing right in front of her, kicking the gravel beneath his feet. Katherine smiled softly as she allowed herself to get a quick look at him. His slender upper body was covered with a purple flying pig T-shirt, no doubt coming from the one and only Glamour Kills. His dark brown hair swooped across his cheeks perfectly as per usual, slightly touching his black and white striped sweatshirt fitting loosely around his frame. He looked the same as he always had, minus the smile that was now planted on his lips. It had always been a smirk before. Scratch that, when he noticed her checking him out, it became a smirk again.

“Lucy,” Katherine replied so softly, it almost came out as a whisper.

“Pretty. Is she yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Lucy continued to tear apart her ice cream cone, getting it all over her face. The boy smiled at the little girl, and she smiled back at him. It was like they knew each other in another life, even though they never met.