Well, I Feel That This Is an Explosion
So this is it.
THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER, UNLESS I HAVE AT LEAST 5 MORE COMMENTS ON IT. I personally like knowing what people think, whether it be good or bad. If - scratch that, when - you comment, put at least one bad thing and another good thing about my writing. I need to know what I need to work on and what I need to do more of. This was 5 word 07 pages, btw.
--
I don't know why I did it, but I'm regretting it. I had no reason to do it. Stupid Kellee, she decided to do what she always does. Run.
Whenever I have a problem with something, whenever something's not perfect, I run. I think I'll escape it, but it only comes back to haunt me after a week or so.
Well, not in this case; it took two years for my past to catch up with me again.
This time, I was sitting on my couch. I had run as far as Springfield this time. The usual; being lazy on my day off. I was flipping through the channels, my head resting on the pillow set on the couch.
Some girl whining about her baby's daddy running off.
Oprah. Ha.
The Academy Is… promoting their new album, Santi.
Old guys-
I flipped back to the thing on The Academy. Sure enough, there stood the four boys I had grown to know, and then one I didn't. Tom had disappeared, and in his place stood a boy with blonde hair and buck teeth. When he talked, his voice reeked of Australia. The only differences to the others was that Andy had shaved his beard and Adam’s hair was now in a, well, dead ferret style.
The Academy had gotten their share of fame, as had William Beckett. His once shoulder length hair was now down to his chin, his blue jeans with the scarves replaced by black skinnies. And to top off his new look, he had exchanged his Blue Oyster Cult shirt for a green v necked top covered by a leather jacket. When he spoke, the girls in the crowd looked as though they would swoon. He was somewhat smug when he talked, although he seemed to try and get his friends in the band to talk as well. However much he had changed, the smirk that he wore when we were in high school had not been wiped off.
The discussion changed from the new CD to the tour they were going on with Fall Out Boy in May, and then they went onto their video for "Big Mess" or something. It was nothing like the old Academy, but I had to admit it was catchy.
The moment they had gotten off the TV, I turned it off, pulled on some shoes, and went to my car.
I needed that CD.
--
Two hours later, I was in my room playing Santi. Sleeping with Giants was playing through my speakers, William's voice serenading me as I stared at my ceiling.
I was trying to think of why I had run this time.
I couldn't think of one. I think it had something to do with me not being comfortable with the Warped lifestyle. I ran because things were complicated and I couldn't deal with it.
A slower song came on.
You were the only face I'd ever known.
I was the light from the lamp on the floor,
and only as bright as you wanted me to be.
Surely it's not about me. Maybe Mike wrote it. It can't be.
But then again; the reason I left was because perfect little me couldn't deal with an imperfect Bill. Hence the last line, perhaps.
As the song came to a close, I found tears streaming down my cheeks.
I'm so stupid. I still get butterflies when I see him, but he so obviously doesn't feel the same.
Because everything we had, is no longer there.
As the rest of the CD played, a few parts stuck out [Run, run. What are you running from?]. The rest was amazing, but nothing like the old Academy. It was new, but good. William's voice had become slightly deeper, as he had become less shy.
"We're going to be doing a tour with Fall Out Boy, starting next week…"
That's it. Tour. I'll run back.
And that’s when I leapt to my computer, scouring the internet for the Honda Civic Tour tickets.
I had no friends here, so I only purchased one. My heart raced as I checked the date.
May 15th. Next week…
--
Next week couldn't come soon enough. The seconds seemed like hours, the hours like days. Finally, the day came, and I was fretting about what to wear.
A pair of simple jeans seemed suitable, along with an oversized Academy shirt I'd gotten from Warped one night when I had no clothes to wear to bed. I stared at my figure in the mirror. I was unsatisfied with my hair; there was nothing I could do to make it look any better. Why was I so worried? It's not like he'll remember me. Much less want to. I probably wouldn't even be able to see him. I shoved my Santi CD in my bag, and raced outside.
Soon, I was in the car, and what seemed like minutes later I was up against the barrier between two screaming girls.
I think I came late, because it wasn’t long before the crowd was silent and four boys soon filed out onto the stage.
Australian dude, Mike, Adam, and Andy.
So where was William?
My question was soon answered, when Beckett himself strutted out, throwing a hand up in a wave.
I felt a sense of regret coming, and I turned my head away from him, pulling out my sunglasses and shoving them onto my face, nearly poking myself in the eye. I hoped to God he wouldn’t recognize me. His face lingered on the front row, as his smirk parted and he sang the opening words to Phrase That Pays. They played one or two songs from Santi, and then finally a song I knew came on. The drumbeats to Slow Down were soon coated with Bill’s voice. The girls beside me screamed every word, my lips twisted into a small smile that I reserved for only him. I mouthed the words, and then the chorus came on. This song was infamous for Bill pointing at a select amount of fans when the word ‘you’ was sung. Some fat girl screamed his name [dear God that sounds wrong] and he pointed at her. Soon, my ears were filled by the cheers from the girl beside me, and he pointed at her.
His eyes rested on me. He shook his head slightly, as though to tell himself that I wasn’t Kellee. I bit my lip, watching him tear his stare away from me and settle at the back of the pavilion.
“Well, this is going to be our last song,” William’s voice soon announced. “We’re going to be out at the gate signing stuff, so come out.”
I didn’t wait for the last song.
I ripped my hands off of the barrier, and tore through the crowd. I took off at an alarming pace to the gates, where a small crowd was forming. I heard the music stop, and the people in front of me yelling when they spotted the band.
What am I doing?
What are you thinking?
You’re right, what was I thinking –
No, you need to talk to him.
I knew it was true.
I had to act like a normal fan again, only this time I wouldn’t be his best friend. I’d have to play the ‘random-fan-named-Kelly-not-Kellee’ Kellee.
I felt my heart beat faster as the crowd slowly progressed. I pushed my hair in my face, which wasn’t as easy as it would be had I had bangs. Curse you, emo kids.
Finally I had reached the line. I made sure my sunglasses covered as much as they could, before proceeding to Andy. He gave me his signature wild grin, as I pulled out Santi. He pulled off the silver Sharpie’s cap.
“What’s your name?” he asked, sticking the cap in his mouth.
“Kellee.”
“Spelt how?” I briefly thought if I should tell him the way my parents had. There could be thousands of Kellee’s.
“K-E-L-L-E-E.” He blinked for a second, before pressing the sharpie to the CD.
Mike was next. He could detect me in a crowd.
“Kel – ” I pressed my finger over my lips instead of slapping my hand over his mouth like I’d do in high school. I pointed to William with my eyes, and he muttered an “oh” before nodding and signing my CD. He bent over as though to give me a hug, but whispered in my ear instead.
“We’ll be out front after the meet and greet…please come.” His arms draped over my shoulders, and I pressed mine against his.
He gave me a quick glance as I moved on to Australian Dude. He didn’t know me. This would be the only easy part.
“Hey, I’m Michael.” I nodded.
“Australian Dude,” I muttered under my breath. He leaned forward slightly.
“What’s that?” I hid a smile, and said ‘nothing’ before handing him the CD. He signed it, and passed it to Adam.
“Hello!” he said cheerfully. I returned his contagious grin and waved. I passed the CD into his hands, and he flashed another smile as he signed it. And now, for the tricky part.
“Hey.” It was short, but I managed to get away with faking fascination with the others’ autographs. His hands reached toward the CD, and his fingers brushed against mine as he gently pried it out of them. I felt the same electricity run through them that I always got, which startled me so much I looked at him. His mouth gaped open a little, nearly dropping the CD.
“Kellee?” I shook my head violently. He sighed, his once smiling eyes turning sad and his grin drooping. “I…” He stumbled over his words, finally heaving another sigh and signing the CD. “Why, Kellee?” he whispered.
“I’m sorry.” I bit my lip.
“Sorry doesn’t fix it, Kellee!” he spat. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything anymore, it’s useless, it’s too late for ‘sorry’!” He was drawing the attention of nearby fans. “You should go.” He thrust the CD back into my arms, glaring at me. I blinked back tears and fought the urge to run off. I managed to calmly walk to where Mike had directed me. I sat on a bench out front, propping my legs up on it and allowing myself to stare at the stars.
Just like Bill and I had, the day before he left.
Before I left.
--
I don't know why I did it, but I'm regretting it. I had no reason to do it. Stupid Kellee, she decided to do what she always does. Run.
Whenever I have a problem with something, whenever something's not perfect, I run. I think I'll escape it, but it only comes back to haunt me after a week or so.
Well, not in this case; it took two years for my past to catch up with me again.
This time, I was sitting on my couch. I had run as far as Springfield this time. The usual; being lazy on my day off. I was flipping through the channels, my head resting on the pillow set on the couch.
Some girl whining about her baby's daddy running off.
Oprah. Ha.
The Academy Is… promoting their new album, Santi.
Old guys-
I flipped back to the thing on The Academy. Sure enough, there stood the four boys I had grown to know, and then one I didn't. Tom had disappeared, and in his place stood a boy with blonde hair and buck teeth. When he talked, his voice reeked of Australia. The only differences to the others was that Andy had shaved his beard and Adam’s hair was now in a, well, dead ferret style.
The Academy had gotten their share of fame, as had William Beckett. His once shoulder length hair was now down to his chin, his blue jeans with the scarves replaced by black skinnies. And to top off his new look, he had exchanged his Blue Oyster Cult shirt for a green v necked top covered by a leather jacket. When he spoke, the girls in the crowd looked as though they would swoon. He was somewhat smug when he talked, although he seemed to try and get his friends in the band to talk as well. However much he had changed, the smirk that he wore when we were in high school had not been wiped off.
The discussion changed from the new CD to the tour they were going on with Fall Out Boy in May, and then they went onto their video for "Big Mess" or something. It was nothing like the old Academy, but I had to admit it was catchy.
The moment they had gotten off the TV, I turned it off, pulled on some shoes, and went to my car.
I needed that CD.
--
Two hours later, I was in my room playing Santi. Sleeping with Giants was playing through my speakers, William's voice serenading me as I stared at my ceiling.
I was trying to think of why I had run this time.
I couldn't think of one. I think it had something to do with me not being comfortable with the Warped lifestyle. I ran because things were complicated and I couldn't deal with it.
A slower song came on.
You were the only face I'd ever known.
I was the light from the lamp on the floor,
and only as bright as you wanted me to be.
Surely it's not about me. Maybe Mike wrote it. It can't be.
But then again; the reason I left was because perfect little me couldn't deal with an imperfect Bill. Hence the last line, perhaps.
As the song came to a close, I found tears streaming down my cheeks.
I'm so stupid. I still get butterflies when I see him, but he so obviously doesn't feel the same.
Because everything we had, is no longer there.
As the rest of the CD played, a few parts stuck out [Run, run. What are you running from?]. The rest was amazing, but nothing like the old Academy. It was new, but good. William's voice had become slightly deeper, as he had become less shy.
"We're going to be doing a tour with Fall Out Boy, starting next week…"
That's it. Tour. I'll run back.
And that’s when I leapt to my computer, scouring the internet for the Honda Civic Tour tickets.
I had no friends here, so I only purchased one. My heart raced as I checked the date.
May 15th. Next week…
--
Next week couldn't come soon enough. The seconds seemed like hours, the hours like days. Finally, the day came, and I was fretting about what to wear.
A pair of simple jeans seemed suitable, along with an oversized Academy shirt I'd gotten from Warped one night when I had no clothes to wear to bed. I stared at my figure in the mirror. I was unsatisfied with my hair; there was nothing I could do to make it look any better. Why was I so worried? It's not like he'll remember me. Much less want to. I probably wouldn't even be able to see him. I shoved my Santi CD in my bag, and raced outside.
Soon, I was in the car, and what seemed like minutes later I was up against the barrier between two screaming girls.
I think I came late, because it wasn’t long before the crowd was silent and four boys soon filed out onto the stage.
Australian dude, Mike, Adam, and Andy.
So where was William?
My question was soon answered, when Beckett himself strutted out, throwing a hand up in a wave.
I felt a sense of regret coming, and I turned my head away from him, pulling out my sunglasses and shoving them onto my face, nearly poking myself in the eye. I hoped to God he wouldn’t recognize me. His face lingered on the front row, as his smirk parted and he sang the opening words to Phrase That Pays. They played one or two songs from Santi, and then finally a song I knew came on. The drumbeats to Slow Down were soon coated with Bill’s voice. The girls beside me screamed every word, my lips twisted into a small smile that I reserved for only him. I mouthed the words, and then the chorus came on. This song was infamous for Bill pointing at a select amount of fans when the word ‘you’ was sung. Some fat girl screamed his name [dear God that sounds wrong] and he pointed at her. Soon, my ears were filled by the cheers from the girl beside me, and he pointed at her.
His eyes rested on me. He shook his head slightly, as though to tell himself that I wasn’t Kellee. I bit my lip, watching him tear his stare away from me and settle at the back of the pavilion.
“Well, this is going to be our last song,” William’s voice soon announced. “We’re going to be out at the gate signing stuff, so come out.”
I didn’t wait for the last song.
I ripped my hands off of the barrier, and tore through the crowd. I took off at an alarming pace to the gates, where a small crowd was forming. I heard the music stop, and the people in front of me yelling when they spotted the band.
What am I doing?
What are you thinking?
You’re right, what was I thinking –
No, you need to talk to him.
I knew it was true.
I had to act like a normal fan again, only this time I wouldn’t be his best friend. I’d have to play the ‘random-fan-named-Kelly-not-Kellee’ Kellee.
I felt my heart beat faster as the crowd slowly progressed. I pushed my hair in my face, which wasn’t as easy as it would be had I had bangs. Curse you, emo kids.
Finally I had reached the line. I made sure my sunglasses covered as much as they could, before proceeding to Andy. He gave me his signature wild grin, as I pulled out Santi. He pulled off the silver Sharpie’s cap.
“What’s your name?” he asked, sticking the cap in his mouth.
“Kellee.”
“Spelt how?” I briefly thought if I should tell him the way my parents had. There could be thousands of Kellee’s.
“K-E-L-L-E-E.” He blinked for a second, before pressing the sharpie to the CD.
Mike was next. He could detect me in a crowd.
“Kel – ” I pressed my finger over my lips instead of slapping my hand over his mouth like I’d do in high school. I pointed to William with my eyes, and he muttered an “oh” before nodding and signing my CD. He bent over as though to give me a hug, but whispered in my ear instead.
“We’ll be out front after the meet and greet…please come.” His arms draped over my shoulders, and I pressed mine against his.
He gave me a quick glance as I moved on to Australian Dude. He didn’t know me. This would be the only easy part.
“Hey, I’m Michael.” I nodded.
“Australian Dude,” I muttered under my breath. He leaned forward slightly.
“What’s that?” I hid a smile, and said ‘nothing’ before handing him the CD. He signed it, and passed it to Adam.
“Hello!” he said cheerfully. I returned his contagious grin and waved. I passed the CD into his hands, and he flashed another smile as he signed it. And now, for the tricky part.
“Hey.” It was short, but I managed to get away with faking fascination with the others’ autographs. His hands reached toward the CD, and his fingers brushed against mine as he gently pried it out of them. I felt the same electricity run through them that I always got, which startled me so much I looked at him. His mouth gaped open a little, nearly dropping the CD.
“Kellee?” I shook my head violently. He sighed, his once smiling eyes turning sad and his grin drooping. “I…” He stumbled over his words, finally heaving another sigh and signing the CD. “Why, Kellee?” he whispered.
“I’m sorry.” I bit my lip.
“Sorry doesn’t fix it, Kellee!” he spat. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything anymore, it’s useless, it’s too late for ‘sorry’!” He was drawing the attention of nearby fans. “You should go.” He thrust the CD back into my arms, glaring at me. I blinked back tears and fought the urge to run off. I managed to calmly walk to where Mike had directed me. I sat on a bench out front, propping my legs up on it and allowing myself to stare at the stars.
Just like Bill and I had, the day before he left.
Before I left.