If Only I Knew How to Hate You

Alex

Our set goes amazing, as always. Everyone loves our music, especially from our recent CD’s debut. I wave to everyone and head backstage with the rest of my band, talking and cheering and laughing about how well it went.

Tiffany, the Warped Journalist person comes by, telling us we did great. “And don’t forget,” she adds, flicking her blonde and blue hair from her face, “In two hours is your signings. Be here or be afeared.” She blows a kiss and runs off to find the next band.

“She’s awesome,” Jack grins, waving goodbye to her.

“You’re weird,” we all counter and laugh as he huffs and puffs moodily.

“Let’s get some food,” Rian groans, holding his stomach. “I haven’t had anything for like, two hours.” We all chorus our agreements and start looking around, looking for something good to eat.

I stretch as we get in line for some sort of barbeque crap. But it smells good. And I’m a guy. So it doesn’t really matter. I fix my hat, play with my hair, and we chat around in line, signing a few autographs, being in a few pictures. It’s all cool.

We eat with a few fans at one of the benches. They’re cute girls, shy but flirty. We’ve all got our own girls, but we like the attention- as long as it doesn’t go too far or anything. After all, they are all blond… not my type, anymore. I like long black hair, preferably curly but it doesn’t always have to be.

“Dude,” Jack shoves me off the edge of the bench where I’d been sitting. “You’re so zonked out, Alex. Just go see Bailey already, man.”

“Zonked out?” I ignore his comment as I shove the dirt off me.

“What? Scooby-Doo is the best,” he defends the talking dog and his gang.

I roll my eyes. “Well seeing as I’m being shoved out of the company, farewell,” I give a dramatic and sarcastic bow and walk off, taking my soda with me. I walk through the crowds, see The Maine playing- not bad, not bad, we’re good pals- and finally, reach our merch table.

“Bailey?” I call upon reaching it.

“Flip!” I hear a familiar cry and I see legs crash through the air as… she apparently falls back in her chair. I jog over and lean over the table and boxes as she scrambles up, breathless and fixing herself. “Thanks,” she tells me sarcastically.

“Surprised?” I give her a happy grin.

“Whatever,” she sighs and stands the chair back up. “It was a stupid chair, anyways,” she mutters to herself and then leans against the table. “So, what are you doing?” She asks me, then snatches my soda and takes a sip. “Mm, good taste,” she adds.

“Sweet, and you’re welcome,” I roll my eyes, leaning against the table beside her. “So, how were the sales?” I offer.

“Hm?” She blinks and looks at me. “Oh. Sales. Eh, better yesterday,” she shrugs, glancing around. she bites her lip thoughtfully, looking towards the crowd milling about, and then goes back to drinking my drink. Or her drink. Doesn’t matter.

“You okay?” I ask her, curious and somewhat suspicious at what’s bothering her. She’d done it a little bit, at the first few shows. Looking around, eyeing the crowd, nervous at people walking behind her, and jumping whenever I first touched her. But then it had started going away… but looks like she’s getting paranoid again.

She blinks and looks at me thoughtfully. She searches my eyes like she’s searching for an answer. “No,” she says finally.

“No?” I repeat.

“Wait,” she says hastily. “No, wait. I’m fine. I just zoned out and didn’t hear the question right. Nothing’s bothering me, I’m just fine,” she says quickly in one breath.

“Are you sure?” I say carefully.

“Of course,” she snaps. “Sorry,” she then mutters after a quiet moment. “I’m just on edge.”

“Why?”

“Because…” she trails it off uncomfortably.

“Because why….?” I trail off my own question, eyeing her carefully.

“Cause I… just feel like I’m being followed,” she says finally, lamely. “That’s all.”

“But you are,” I say innocently.

She whips her head around, eyes wide, shocked. “By me,” I grin, leaning over and taking a sip from the soda. I hear the sigh of relief and wonder again what her problem is. But it’s Bailey, and she won’t tell me until she’s ready, so I guess I shouldn’t push her.

“Mine,” she grins, pushing me from the drink. To prove it, she shoves the straw in her mouth, taking a long swallow.

“Meanie,” I pout.

“Yeah?” She smirks. “Whatcha gonna do ‘bout it, hm?” She taunts me, taking another long, mocking sip of the drink. My eyes fall to her delicious lips. She’s not wearing lipstick, far as I can tell. They’re always so red as it is…

“This,” I say and pushing the drink away from her mouth, I wrap my arms around her and bending over as she tries inching back, I put my lips on her. The moment they touch, it’s like a switch, almost. She stops inching away, and instead eagerly returns the kiss, setting down the soda on the table so she can wrap her arms round my neck, pulling me closer and our stomachs touch, though its burning cause we’ve still got tops on- not cool.

Minutes later, our lips are being bruised and she allows entry to her mouth, allowing my tongue to explore. My hands tangle in her hair, my heart hammering with excitement and pleasure; it would be impossible to get sick of this.

But finally, I feel too many eyes on me to continue and sighing, I give her one last gentle kiss on her lips and pull away, smiling. I glance at the girls, jaws dropped, and they hurry off, embarrassed.

Bay caught that they were staring, and blushes a little, fiddling with her hair. I chuckle, and give her a peck on the cheek. Then I notice my drink unattended. Perfect. “Aha!” I cry and dart off to go refill it with maybe something she doesn’t like so she won’t steal it all.

“Alex!” She calls, yelling partially whining and then I feel her jump on my back. I laugh and grab her thighs to pull her up higher on my waist as we keep walking.

“Enjoying the view?” I call as I continue walking, no longer jogging, along the crowded places. I hear her give a light chuckle in my ear as her arms tighten around my neck. Her chin lightly digs into my shoulder but I don’t mind too much. But her chuckle, I take it, means she’s enjoying it.

“So how was your set?” She finally asks me. I’ve refilled my drink and we’re wandering around, though she’s still riding my back. “Good? Normal? Average? Amazing? Or beyond amazing?”

Apparently she likes me rating my shows between those numbers or something like that. I grin and consider it. “Um… Between Average and Amazing. Could’ve been a little better, but it was still great. Edging more on Amazing, though. Let’s just say Awesome,” I add.

“You do know you say that for most of your concerts, right?” She teases me lightly.

“I do?” I ask in surprise, not really recalling… oh wait. “Oh…I do,” I grin a little. “Whoopsie me.”

“Whoopsie you, indeed,” she mutters.

I chuckle and kiss the small of her jaw where I can just barely touch. “So, what do you want to do now?” She thinks for a minute, and then suddenly swats my shoulder. “Ow,” I whine, unable to rub it. “What was that for?”

“Gee, I dunno…” she drawls. “Maybe because you have some place to be soon?”

I think about it…and think…and remember. “Oh!” It dawns on me. “Right. Meet ‘n greet stuff. Signings… Wait, how did you know that?” I ask curiously.

“Tiff came by with whats-his-name to remind me to remind you that you might forget and make sure you’re there on time…for once,” she adds, smirking.

“You distract me, it’s not my fault.”

“You’re such a baby,” she pokes me. “On, trusty steed. You’ve got a pen to burn out today, pal.”