Warped Tour Should Be the Definition of Fun

“No way!” I shrieked, again, to Lianne.

“Namora, please—“

“No. Frickin’. Way. I’m going to share a bus with them and there is nowhere in hell I’m gonna share a room with them!”

Because for the first 3 days of Warped was going to be in California, we were going to stay in a hotel. Lianne was being such a mean manager to me; she was thinking to make me share a room with Millionaires!

“Lianne, please. You know how things are going between us four, you’re torturing me!” I whined.

“Just for three days—“

“And another few months!” I said.

“Lianne, she’s right,” Seth showed up behind me. “You do know how things are going so badly between them, you can’t do this to her.”

Lianne sighed. “Alright, you can choose your own room buddy.”

“Thank you, Lianne. I love you,” I said and she laughed before walking off to Matt Flyzik. “Thanks, Seth,” I said as Seth and I started to walk together.

He shrugged. “No problem.”

Seth was the most mature and calm one in the band. He always stuck up for me whenever I had problems. Well, Jazz and Cliff too, but sometimes they would stood up on me too (jokingly). Seth was the definition of loyalty.

“So who’re you gonna share a room with?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I’m thinking Jazz, that way I wouldn’t be bored as fuck in the room.”

He laughed. “You’re saying I’m boring?”

“No!” I laughed along. “I mean Jazz and Cliff are both equally hyper, and if they got into the same room the room would be chaotic. And, and,… either Jazz or Cliff always keeps us both entertained; Cliff will entertain you too.”

He laughed again, louder this time. “Cliff isn’t my personal stripper, Amor!”

I rolled my eyes at my actual nickname. I hated that nickname because Amor means love in Spanish and I was thinking it was too girly. Good thing my parents didn’t name me Lovegood or something. Ew.

- - -

I was walking around Pomona Fairplex before the gate for Warped today was opened. I kept on walking around until I bumped into someone.

“Oh sorry,” I said and looked up to see a pair of bright blue (or green?) eyes staring into my dark, dark blue ones.

“Nah, it’s okay.”

He eyed me for a while before holding out his hand. “Garrett.”

I shook his hand. “Namora.”

“Are you… a groupie or something?” he asked cautiously and I immediately burst into laughter.

“Group – groupie?” I said between laughs. “No, Garrett. I’m from Stockholm Lights! What makes you think I’m a groupie?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never seen you before and you’re here before the gate opens…? Doesn’t matter. Good thing I wasn’t sure you’re a groupie.”

“Huh?”

“I mean your face looks like one of the groupies” – I raised an eyebrow – “But your careless outfit makes you look like a band chick.”

“My face looks like one of the groupies? I feel offended, Nickelsen,” I gasped jokingly as I put my hand on my chest in a hurt manner.

He laughed. “I like you, Namora…?”

“Kellers,” I finished for him.

“I like you, Namora Kellers. In a friendly way.”

I laughed. “I feel the same way.”

We started walking together and just kept on talking. “Your first time to perform during Warped?”

I nodded. “I’m nervous – I’m really nervous, actually. I’m afraid we won’t get a crowd, but remembering that last year we were the opening act for Forever the Sickest Kids. 20 percent sure…” I muttered.

He chuckled. “I’ll help you with that.”

“Really?” My face lit up.

He raised his index finger. “On one condition.”

I groaned. “What?”

“Go on a lunch with me,” he grinned.

“Oh, I thought you were going to say ‘perform in bikini during your set’.”

He thought for a moment. “Actually, that doesn’t sound so bad.”

I slapped his arm jokingly.

He laughed. “So, lunch?”

“’Course.”

- - -

“What time is your set?” he asked as before he bit his burger.

I swallowed my Sprite and said, “2, I guess.”

“Alright.”

And then we heard the door clicked open and I saw the trio that I hated. I rolled my eyes at them.

“Oh, hello Namora,” Dani said in her annoying voice and approached our table.

“Hello, Dani Whore,” I pulled on a fake smile.

“Would you stop calling me that?”

I shrugged. “Gore rhymes with whore, and I like whore better on you, so…”

She raised her index finger and pointed at me. “You little brat—“

“Brat? Who lives for getting wasted with daddy’s money?” I snapped.

“You are going to regret for saying it, Killers.”

“Oh, sure I will,” I said sarcastically as I rolled my eyes. “And I’m better off as a killer than a whore. And I’m pretty sure you don’t wanna sweat before your set starts, so shoo,” I gestured my hands in a ‘shoo’ motion to her.

She stomped her foot angrily to the floor and turned her heels to leave. Her friends then followed her.

“What’s up with you and her? I could feel the tense atmosphere when she just stepped in,” Garrett asked.

“We hate each other,” I said simply.

“Why?”

“She hates me for being smart and graduating early, I hate her for being so slutty.”

“Only because of that?”

“There are a few other reasons.”

“And what are they?”

I stared at him for a while. “I just know you and I’m not thinking to tell you about my past just yet.”

“Alright, I’m cool with that.”

I smiled.

And then a few girls approached our table and asked for Garrett’s autograph. I watched as Garrett signed a napkin. One of the girls turned to look at me, and she was staring at me head-to-toe.

“Oh, meet Namora,” Garrett said, noticing the girl was staring at me. “She plays in the band Stockholm Lights. Go watch their set on the Smartpunk stage at 2 later on.”

“Will do,” they all said before thanking Garrett and walked off.

- - -

Breathe in, breathe out.

You can do this, Namora.

You. Can. Do. This.

I breathed in deeply as I followed the other three boys walked on the stage. People cheered. I looked around, scanning the crowd. My heart was racing.

I cleared my throat as I walked to my microphone with my guitar.

“We’re Stockholm Lights, and this is our first song: Seven Rings!”

I started playing the guitar intro, and then Jazz followed with the bass, after that Seth with the lead guitars, and Cliff started drumming.

The chorus came and Seth started to headbang while Jazz and I sang our lungs out. The crowd was jumping along to the beat.

Wow, did Garrett really gather this crowd?

My eyes darted off to the sidestage and I saw Garrett was there, grinning, winked and gave me a thumb. I smiled back.

“So, guys,” I said, a little bit breathless as our second song was done. “I wonder how the heck do you guys know about us,” I laughed a little. “Sure, we toured last year with FTSK, but it was only for… a month?”

Someone from the crowd shouted fucking loud, “The internet!”

“Internet – oh yeah, Myspace and stuff. How can I forget about that,” I chuckled as I threw the water bottle I was holding to the crowd. “Either you guys saw us last year, the internet, or Garrett fucking Nickelsen advertised about us.”

The crowd cheered. From the corner of my eye I could see Garrett was smiling to himself.

“Thanks Garrett,” I muttered. “So this is a song – originally by Coldplay, and I hope this doesn’t suck!”

The crowd cheered as Seth played the guitar of Life in Technicolour II.