Skylines & Drivebys

To me, life just became a thing to pass time with. Waiting it out for something better.

Anything.

I had no one to blame but myself for what I did, and all these feelings that I carried on my shoulders each day, but I wish I did. I tried anything to change; to leave myself behind; to find a new life, but such things are easier said than done.

I dyed my hair a very dark brown, suddenly my wardrobe was mostly made up of neutrals and basic pieces – nothing to call attention to myself; not too much personality. I lost some weight which wasn’t a deliberate choice, but I never felt like eating these days either.

Lynne says the biggest change isn’t even in my appearance. I rarely smiled anymore since I never had anything to smile about, and when I did, it was a weak half-smile that you would see on someone who wasn’t sure if they remembered how to smile. And I just gave an aura of sadness. She said she couldn’t stand next to me anymore without feeling at least a little down.

This was her trying to snap me out of it, but I’m pretty sure I tuned out during that conversation.

All plans of college went down the drain, and I got a job at the record store near the campus, and there I met Spencer. He worked for a magazine that worked alongside AltPress and usually bought music there. After being a regular for years, he noticed the new girl behind the counter and chatted me up, merely for business reasons. Also, he was wondering where the other girl – Nikki – went off to.

“She moved to Florida,” I replied indifferently, “Yeah, I like writing. And I really like music too,” was my response to a few of his questions.

It wasn’t too long before he offered me a job at Generation Y. Willing to pursue something different, I started out doing odd jobs and paperwork in and around the building, but one day, Spencer pulled me aside in a panic, “Sunday, Mandy’s MIA so I need you to do me a huge favour.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Can you go to this address,” he handed me a slip of paper with half-comprehensible writing on it, “and do the interview?”

“Wait, interview? Like, a band? Like people?” I stumbled over my words.

He looked at me like I had three heads, “Where have you been working the last two months?” He chuckled, “Yes, a band; and yes people. Don’t worry about questions,” he placed a few more sheets of paper in my hands, “Here are some that were already done up.” Spencer took in my reaction and smiled kindly, “Don’t worry. You’ll be interviewing The Summer Set. They’re gaining fans like crazy, but they’re really laid-back people.”

So I went and did the interview.

And that’s how I got the job I have now. Mandy left unexpectedly without telling anyone why, or where she was going. Although everyone else was a bit irked by the situation, I didn’t judge her for it – I had taken the same sort of escape once before, too.

It was Saturday, and I was looking forward to sleeping in past noon – to at least about 3 p.m. It didn’t happen though, because I was awoken at 1 by the sound of my cell phone. I recognized the ring tone almost immediately. It was Spencer. He knows I like my Sleepy Saturdays, I thought groggily, What does he want now?

I figured I owed it to him to at least pick up the phone. I could rant at him later for waking me up.

“Big news,” an excited Spencer breathed on the other end of the line, not even bothering to utter a hello.

“Well good morning to you too, boss.” I said sarcastically.

“Afternoon,” he corrected.

“Details,” I brushed off the mistake, “What’s up?”

“Big news.”

“You already said that.”

“Well, it is. Remember how we couldn’t get a spot for an interview for the concert tonight?”

“Not really.” I rolled over and looked at the ceiling in mild disinterest.

“Get to remembering! We got a slot!”

“That’s great!” I said half-heartedly. I really was happy about it, I was still just tired though.

“You’re still in bed aren’t you?” Spencer asked, his tone dropping dull.

“Yep,” I replied, popping the p.

“Swing by here, pick up the papers, and head to the venue. It’ll be quite a drive away, so you should leave now.”

“Mkay,” I agreed, rolling out of bed, “Do I get to watch the show though?”

“Yeah – VIP passes – the works.”

“You mind slipping in another one of them babes? I want Lynne to come along. We haven’t had any girl time in a while.”

“No problem. But be here – stat.”

“Will do,” And with that, we hung up.

I quickly got ready, throwing on a navy blue floral dress I had found at a vintage store, opaque black tights, and my black leather combat boots. I grabbed my keys, texted Lynne to be waiting outside the Starbucks near her last class, threw on my beloved motorcycle jacket, and aviator sunglasses.

I wasn’t worried about the interview. At this point, I was their go-to girl interview-wise. After Mandy had left, Jon was next on the stepping stone, and he took over main interviewer, and so on until he left to the point where I was at the top. These days, I got the major interviews and Spencer was very pleased.

...

Lynne sat in the passenger seat of my beloved mini cooper. We were about five minutes away from the venue and she was munching on some corn chips.

“Whoa, slow your rolls there chicka,” I said as she stuffed three in her mouth.

She merely rolled her eyes at me and I paused, waiting for a response, “I missed lunch because I completely forgot I had a paper due. I had it done, luckily, but I ran around crazy looking for a place to print it because Professor Lowrey is too old to understand technology and email.”

I laughed, “Just make sure to bring some water so you don’t choke.”

She saluted and grabbed a water bottle out of the compartment.

“So you know who you’re interviewing? Or who’s playing?”

“Nah,” I responded, “Spencer gave me everything I need and he said he’d be surprised if I didn’t already know a bunch of stuff about them. Anyone who’s in the industry does.”

“Mkay.”

We got to the venue about halfway through the concert. As we walked in through the entrance, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face.

I couldn’t be.

Vinny Vegas standing behind a merch table.

That would mean...

All Time Low.

I spun around on my heel as fast as I could, and wound up crashing into Lynne who was walking right behind me. Seeing my alarmed expression she scanned the large room filled with people and landed right on Vinny, I assumed.

“Sunday,” she began slowly, but I cut her off.

“I can’t do this.” My breaths started to become shallower, “I knew it. Where are those papers?” I rifled through my bag and found them. Skimming over the outline, I finally found what I was looking for, and there it was staring straight back at me in black and white.

All Time Low.

“This is what I get for not reading ahead.” I whined.

“You can’t back out.” Lynne simply stated.

“And why not? I think I have every right to back out.”

“Wasn’t Spence completely ecstatic that you got this slot? Isn’t this a big deal to the magazine?”

I stared at her blankly knowing full well that she was right.

Tears sprung to her eyes, “But I can’t do this,” I said in a small voice, “He hates me. He hates me”

Lynne wrapped her arms around me and we just stood there for a while like that. The moment was ruined though, the moment we heard shrieks and shouts, and I heard a familiar guitar riff.

“Who’s ready to get fucked up?” His voice rang in my ears. My heart lurched; my stomach dropped.

“We should just go and wait backstage or the lounge of wherever.” Lynne suggested walking towards some burly men standing in front of some very official-looking doors.

I nodded wordlessly and showed them our passes and we were let in without hassle.

We were led into a lounge with a nice white leather couch, and a glass coffee table that had a bowl of jellybeans. I grabbed a handful, took out all that I would need, as Lynne set up the camera in order for the interview to be posted on the website.

There were already a few people in the room, but no more familiar faces. No one recognized me.

I sat down on the spotless couch, candy in tow, but I couldn’t sit still. I was fidgeting with my hair and bouncing my leg. I felt absolutely sick to the pit of my stomach. I tried to pull myself together and Lynne sent me a sympathetic look as she took her place on the other side of the room.

I watched the clock on the wall move much too fast for my liking, and heard the faint sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. I held my breath and my stomach clenched anticipating what would happen next.

The door opened and my heart burst into a million tiny pieces. Alex, my Alex. He was still as handsome as I last remembered. The memories I worked so hard to push away all rushed back to the surface, picking, clawing, and scratching at the wounds.

His laughter filled the room in response to something Rian said. Rian, oh how I missed his comforting words. His smile, his tapping. Jack said something. Undoubtedly inappropriate, but hilarious nonetheless. I looked at Zack, quietly following the rambunctious group, taking it all in. He was the first one to notice me, but he didn’t say anything. His eyes simply dulled.

It finally occurred to me that I had been seen, and I took a sharp intake of air, remembering that I hadn’t been breathing. All eyes turned to me and I cursed myself, thinking that I should have waited a few more seconds to breathe.

My eyes went back to the only one I wanted to see just as his locked onto mine.

“Sunday,” he breathed.