Warped Tour Should Be the Definition of Fun

I was in the sidestage of the Hurley stage, watching The Maine’s set. Garrett had watched our whole set earlier, and I thought I should watch his band’s set too.

“This next song is by Def Leppard called Pour Some Sugar On Me,” John said to the crowd. “Let’s get hot and horny out there, let’s go.”

I giggled at that as Pat started drumming. When the guitar came, John poured himself some water and I laughed.

“He is so yummy.”

I turned my head to my left and saw theSluts Millionaires watching their performance too. I rolled my eyes at the sentence spoken.

After the song ended, out of nowhere John stated that he was a virgin.

“Even yummier,” I heard Allison said. I could sense that she was twirling her hair and biting her lower lip, staring at John as if he was her prey.

I rolled my eyes again.

Then they started performing Girls Do What They Want. At some time Garrett would turn his attention to the sidestage and threw me a grin, which I gave back.

“Who are you grinning at, Killers?”

Ugh.

I turned my head to my left again. “Garrett,” I answered simply and as if it was obvious. I really didn’t want to bitch at her right now; I felt like napping.

She took steps towards me. “Listen, brat.” I rolled my eyes. I rolled my eyes too much. “Garrett is mine and there is no way you can go out with him.”

“Oh yeah?” I took a step forward. “Prove it,” I growled.

“You don’t know who you’re talking to.”

“Oh I know; a self-centered whore who only wants money from a guy and doesn’t give a shit if she’s having sex with a guy who has STD, ‘cause that’s what she does for a living.”

“Just because I have girl friends and you don’t, doesn’t mean you can judge us as sluts.”

“I’d rather to have no girl friends than having them but turning into sluts as well. And just because I was 17 and you were 19 when we graduated high school doesn’t mean you can be jealous on me.”

“At least I know how to act like a girl.”

“Good thing I don’t know how to act like a slut so I wouldn't have to compete with YOU!” I shouted in front of her face.

My shouting earned attention from everyone around us. Including The Maine who was performing. I didn’t give a shit, so I threw a glare at her before walking off.

Geez.

- - -

“I like it. You wrote this?” Jazz asked, holding up a piece of paper full of my scribbling.

I nodded.

“You wrote a lyric? All I know is that you used to suck at it. And the meaning of this lyric is full of… hatred.”

“I was fucking pissed at Dani when I wrote that.”

“Don’t you always,” he muttered before reread the lyric again. “Do you want to compose this?”

I nodded again and we both grabbed our acoustic guitars that were placed near the TV. Minutes later after we were working on the chorus, a soft knock on the door was heard. I got up from the bed and peeked on the peephole. Garrett was standing in front of the door, grinning towards the peephole. I giggled as I leaned away to open the door for him.

“What’s up?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I’m bored. Can I come in?”

I stepped aside so he could come in. When he saw Jazz on the bed with a guitar and my guitar placed next to him and a paper of lyric I wrote earlier was placed in front of him, Garrett said, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything here.”

I shrugged. “We were about to finish,” I closed the door and sat back next to Jazz, holding my guitar.

I stared at Garrett who was still standing next to the TV, unsure of what to do.

“Take a seat wherever you want,” I said and he immediately sat on the bed across us, staring at us. Jazz raised an eyebrow at him.

“I want to hear the song you guys are writing,” Garrett stated.

“It’s not done yet,” I said.

He shrugged. “Let’s hear how far you’ve got.”

Jazz and I stared each other for a while, and then I began to strum my guitar. I sang a few lines, and then Jazz sang another few lines as he was strumming the guitar. We were done with the chorus and stopped playing, because that was what we got so far.

“That was amazing!” Garrett complimented. “Who wrote the lyric?”

“You think?” Jazz asked back. The two gave me a stare, I raised my eyebrows in response.

“Why were you shouting during my set?” Garrett randomly asked.

“She did?” Jazz asked and Garrett nodded. I huffed, blowing my bangs as I did so.

“As usual, Dani pissed me off.”

“What did she do again?”

“She claimed you’re hers when I was giving back your grin.”

He mouthed an ‘oh’ and nodded.

There was a silence then, and Garrett suddenly said, “I think it’s better if you make the tempo a little bit faster on the chorus. May I…?”

“Sure,” Jazz said, lending him his guitar.

After a few hours hanging out in the room, Garrett decided to head back to his room. I walked him to the door. He was staring at my face for a few seconds.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” I asked, running my fingers through my cheek.

He smiled. “Yeah. It’s… your eyes. I like them lots.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Your eyes are brighter which makes it obvious that your eyes are prettier than mine.”

“I don’t see many people with dark blue eyes; maybe that’s why I like ‘em.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“And I like your smile too.”

He bent down and kissed my cheek. “See you tomorrow.” And he walked away.

“Why do you look so awkward?” Jazz asked from his bed near the window when I went back to the room.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered. “Go to bed, Jazz, we gotta wake up early tomorrow.” I grabbed a pair of boxers and a t-shirt from my luggage.

“Nah, I’ll finish watching this first.” My gaze darted to the TV, revealing an episode of CSI.

“Suit yourself,” I replied before going to the bathroom to brush my teeth and change. I went back to the room and laid on the bed near the wall and went under the cover, while thinking about the peck on the cheek that Garrett gave me.