I Love Your Bubblegum Smile

Harley watched All Time Low’s set in her merchandise booth from a distance.

Even she had to admit that Alex was on fire, not literally of course.

He was practically glowing with excitement and happiness, with a genuinely bright smile plastered on his face. He sang until his vocal chords became strained, and his banters with Jack were even funnier than usual. Some would say that this was one of his best performances.

Contrary to what the band believed, Harley knew that his excitement was not because he had taken part in the Red Bull chugging contest in their tour bus hours before.

Lisa and Alex had finally gotten back together it seemed, information that Alex had shared with her after she had woken up around eleven thirty. She had gotten that sick feeling at the bottom of her stomach again, though it was probably from her lack of sleep since it took her a while to drift back into sleep after her confrontation with Alex. She was happy that he was happy, or at least she convinced herself that she was happy.

Plus, it was a little secret that was shared between them. Alex hadn’t wanted the band to know yet, in fear that they would jump to conclusions and judge him, so he had decided that he would keep it between Harley and himself—and Lisa of course.

Harley watched in amusement as Alex bounced around the stage with the microphone in hand as he belted out the lyrics to ‘Weightless’.

It was the most popular song on All Time Low’s new album, though this was probably because they had released a music video that screened across televisions tuned into MTV for weeks. Along with catchy lyrics and a slightly pop beat, Harley could hear screaming fans singing along even from her seat in the back.

Personally, Harley thought that Alex sounded his best in his old material, or when he did acoustics, though he sounded good in anything he sang. Not that she was going to admit that to his face, ever.

Her head pulsed with a never-ending migraine, while her ears buzzed with the excitement and the side effects of one and a half cans of Red Bull (the half being from Rian). She smiled as the boys said their final goodbyes before jogging off the stage.

Fans swarmed out of the venue, a hoard of them stopping to pick up a t-shirt or poster. After dealing with a few uncooperative teenagers who tried unsuccessfully to bargain with the price, Harley packed up the remaining merchandise, before calling Flyzik to get some guys to help her lift the boxes back to the bus.

Less than five minutes later, two burly men in their late twenties appeared in a white van.

“These the boxes?” One with a goatee and a tattoo of a dragon on his forearm asked, nodding towards the boxes.

No, what other boxes are there? she wanted to say, but she knew she might get her ass kicked if she uttered the wrong word.

“Yeah,” she nodded, and watched as the second man began picking up boxes.

He had choppy blond hair that rested just above his eyebrows. He was soon joined by the first man, and together they had packed all the boxes in the white van.

“You coming?” Burly man number two questioned, raising a bushy blonde eyebrow.

“Nah,” Harley waved him off, “I think I’m going to walk.”

“Suit yourself.”

And soon they were gone.

Harley looked around the venue one last time, before making her way towards the tour bus. The fact that the silent area was filled with deafening screams and thunderous music only moments before scared her.

The venue was completely deserted—the band had probably gone back to the tour bus while the fans had already gone home—leaving Harley standing in the middle of it all.

For once, Harley was on her own.

Rian hadn’t followed her, he hadn’t demanded that she get an escort in fear that she would get kidnapped and murdered on the way over, he had actually left her alone.

A feeling of joy took over in her body, and Harley squealed in delight as her heart swelled with appreciation.

She zipped up her charcoal gray hoodie, before stuffing her hands in her pockets and slowly beginning her journey back to the tour bus.

The cold air whipped against her face, the weather rumoured to be abnormal for whatever state she was in. She had lost track long ago. The sun had set minutes before, and Harley found herself walking in the darkness, her path only lit by a few streetlights strategically placed along the road.

It had been a long day—the venue was rather small and caused the crowd to have to squeeze together, causing at least three mosh pits to break out during the day, and the fans were rather rude and obnoxious. Harley hoped that she didn’t have to come back again.

She passed the tent where she had relaxed an hour before, and started towards the row of tour buses from various bands. She located All Time Low’s bus easily, and stopped in front of the front door.

It was closed.

Harley reached out to grab the handle. Nothing.

She peered through the slightly tinted glass in hope to see the bus driver sitting in his chair. He would definitely let her in. Nobody was there.

Something struck inside of her as she realized the door was locked. They had locked her out! She banged on the glass harder, but not a sound was heard from the inside.

Her throat constricted, and her stomach jumped. What was she supposed do now?

“There you are!” A voice called out, and Harley sighed in relief. She turned around ready to tell off Jack, Alex or Rian, but instead came face to face with Travis. Her face fell in disappointment, which Travis noticed almost immediately. “Something wrong?”

“It appears that I’m locked out of my bus.”

“Didn’t they tell you?” Travis’ expression was one of confusion. “They went to the Denny’s on East Street with some of the guys from Hey Monday.”

“What?”

“They went to De—“

“No, I got that part.” Harley cut him off harshly. “They left me?”

“It appears so.” He smiled sympathetically.

“This sucks,” Harley crossed her arms across her chest, before slumping against the tour bus.

“I could, erm, I could...drive you there if you want?” Travis suggested. “I mean—uh... I’m pretty hungry and we could grab something to eat.”

“Travis,” Harley beamed, wrapping his arms around him in a quick hug. “You’re amazing! Thank you, so much!”

“No problem.” He said, his cheeks flushing happily.

They walked together to the We The Kings tour bus, and Travis gestured for her to get on.

“I don’t know about this, Trav.” Harley bit down on her lip, suddenly nervous. “Are you sure they’ll be cool with me coming along? They might think I’m intruding, or that I’m trying to steal your food. Ohmigosh, they’ll think that I’m using you, and then they’ll call me names and make me starve and I’ll never make my way onto the bus and I’ll be a lonely hermit who sells phone cards and does hula dances in a coconut bra on Sunday nights!”

“Harley!” Travis stopped her from rambling onward, “You’re being ridiculous. Relax, they’ll love you.”

“They don’t ev—“ She was cut off by Travis’ calloused finger on her lips.

Her mouth snapped shut in surprise, and she watched as he gave her a slight push onto the bus. She entered, her nerves still getting the best of her. The balding bus driver greeted her, and she attempted a smile.

Harley walked further into the small bus, to see three other boys sitting on the couch, red playing cards in hand.

“Can you go to Denny’s?” She heard Travis tell the bus driver, who grunted in response.

Travis pressed a large hand on the small of her back as he lead her even closer towards the unfamiliar boys.

“Guys.” He announced, in a rather loud voice.

They all looked at him in surprise, as their eyes trailed to Travis’ hand and then to Harley. They stared at her with gazes of curiosity and confusion, but so far there had been no horrible accusations.

“Who’s the chick?” One of them asked.

He had bright blue eyes and shaggy brown hair that fell on his shoulders.

“She’s my friend, Harley. Harley these are my bandmates. This is Hunter Thomsen, his brother Drew and our drummer Danny Duncan.”

Harley waved awkwardly, while the boys chorused a array of different greetings.

“Did Trav pick you up at a show or something?” The drummer asked, causing a blush to form on the apples of both Travis ’and Harley’s cheeks.

“No,” Harley mumbled, “I’m the merchandise girl for All Time Low. I’m Rian’s sister.”

“Oh, okay.” He seemed to deem her as acceptable and returned to the game.

“We’re playing poker man,” the one known as Hunter said, waving the cards that remained in his hand in the air. “Are you gonna join?”

“Actually, we’re on our way to Denny’s. I asked David to drive us there. Harley got locked out of her bus, and Alex and the guys went on Hey Monday’s bus to grab some dinner.”

“Oh, well do you wanna play until we get there?” Drew asked, before glancing at Harley. “Harley can play too, of course.”

“Sure,” Travis nodded eagerly, looking at Harley. “You in?”

“Okay,” Harley said, surprising herself.

Travis grabbed her hand and guided her towards an empty space on the couch as he dealt the cards.

“Your go.” He smiled, and Harley found herself looking at the cards, taking in a deep breath.

_______________________________________

The ride to Denny’s was a surprisingly short one.

They had only gotten half way through the game, and Harley was grateful as they pulled up in front of the familiar diner.

The band had soon realized that Harley was horrific at poker, and teased her mercilessly. Travis attempted to defend her, and jokingly surrendered less than three minutes later.

Knowing it was all in good fun, Harley had laughed along, retorting about the band’s musical abilities. It felt good not to have to worry about fitting in anymore.

Travis lead her into Wendy’s, followed closely by Hunter, Drew and Danny.

As the door opened and cool air blasted onto her face, Harley was greeted almost immediately by a not-so-eager waitress.

“Where can I seat you?” she drawled in a southern accent, before gesturing like a game-show assistant to the tables in the dinner.

Travis shrugged, which the she scowled out, before muttering “Follow me.”

Harley’s eyes searched the restaurant before landing on the largest circular booth in the back. It was crowded with familiar faces, and even had a few chairs pulled up to accommodate the large number of people.

“Harley?” Travis’ voice cut her away from her thoughts. She realized that she was the only one standing, and quickly sat down.

The boys laughed, before looking at the menus that had been sloppily placed in front of them. The waitress, whose name tag read Clara tapped her acrylic nails impatiently against the table.

“What can I get you to drink?” she pursed her cherry-red lips, the wrinkles in her face sagging to reveal her true age—which was around fifty.

“I’ll have a Coke,” Travis said, followed by three cheers of agreement from the band.

“I’ll have a Sprite,” Harley said, placing her menu down as Clara took their order.

“Three Cokes and a Sprite?” she twanged in confirmation, before disappearing through the steel double doors that no doubt lead to the kitchen.

Harley had already decided on a classic hamburger, while the guys flipped through their menus, eyeing the selections.

“I’m going to have the All-American Slam to show my patriotism,” Travis laughed, slapping down his menu onto the table.

“It’s seven o’ clock at night, asshole.” Danny pointed out.

“So? Isn’t that the point in going to a diner, to eat breakfast for dinner?”

“Only you,” Drew shook his head.

“No! Why else would they still have the breakfast menu as an option?”

“It’s all one menu, you dick.”

“You can’t call me a dick! We have a lady in our company! It’s rude.” Travis exclaimed, gesturing to Harley who sent him an amused glance.

“Okay, fine. It’s all one menu, you male reproductive system. Happy?!”

Harley coughed out a laugh, but she had other things on her mind. She glanced back at the table full of her brother’s friends.

Her stomach churned as she watched them in awe, laughing and joking while shovelling food in their mouths. They were all friends, good friends. Harley was just an outsider, watching from a distance.

Did she even have friends?

Sure, Alex, Jack and Zack talked to her, but that was only because her brother was their bandmate and she was living with them for the summer. She wasn’t their friend necessarily.

They hadn’t asked her to come along with them to gatherings like this one, and instead made her fold t-shirts all day long. Sure, they provided a place to stay, but that didn’t mean they were friends.

Danny, Drew and Hunter seemed to like her well enough, but one game of poker was not something strong enough to create a friendship over.

Was Travis her friend?

Travis was nice to her and invited her out to coffee. Did that make him friendly? He was cute, and Harley definitely wanted him to be more than friends with her.

She kicked the thoughts out of her head almost immediately after she had thought them. It was stupid, and Travis wouldn’t like her as more than a friend anyway.

She looked back at Rian and his table. They made her sick. Here they were, laughing and joking while they had left her to be locked outside of the tour bus, with no place to go.

She immediately decided that Travis was a true friend, as he could have just let her stay by herself outside of the bus.

“That’s fuckin’ awesome!” She heard Jack exclaim from the other side of the room , earning a disapproving glare from the elderly lady two booths away.

“Travis,” Harley murmured, tugging on his sleeve like a small child. He sent her a questioning look, urging her to continue. “I’m not feeling very well...can we go back?”

“You don’t want to eat?” he asked, lowering his voice as well. “If it’s the guys, I can always take you out somewhere else. They really like you, ya know? There’s no reason to fe—“

“It’s not the guys. I just...” She trailed off, her eyes falling on the table that held her brother. She sighed longingly, before glancing at Travis. “It’s hard, that’s all.”

“Okay, then. Let me just let the waitress know.” He smiled sympathetically, before waving over the waitress.

He handed her a twenty dollar bill for attempting to serve us, something that she seemed very happy about, before he turned back towards the guys.

“Guys, we’re leaving.”

They all looked up surprised, clearly confused as they had missed his conversation with Harley.

“Why? You broke or something?” Hunter teased.

“No, Harley isn’t feeling too well.” Travis lied, much to Harley’s relief.

She only had known his bandmates for a day, and she knew that she wouldn’t feel right if they had known her insecurities.

“Oh,” Hunter’s face softened. “Okay.”

The five of them stumbled out of the booth, before making their way out the door and back onto the bus.

As Harley looked back one last time, her heart sank just a little.