Just Another Reason I Could Never Forget You.

The music was pumping; the tour had started. I was half wishing I wasn't here, and half loving every moment and every face that smiled my way. I didn't know when I'd lost John or Jared, only knowing they had gone and I was alone on a tour with people I either didn't want to know, or just plain didn't know. I was surrounded by nothing but tour buses and band boys, it was a little overwhelming. I had literally only just turned 21 the day before on October 8th, the boys had all just played the first show of the tour, I had been harassed by teenage girls obsessing over band boys they were "dying" to meet, and just as I was about to go snuggle up on the sofa, John had caught me and dragged me off to this party with him. We literally had until 1am here before all the buses had to leave, and the show had ended at 10 anyway.
It was currently 11:30.
"Holly, baby, come here!" John slurred, a little too much for my liking. I warily edged over to him, keeping an eye on his actions. I wasn't particularly afraid of John, he was just a little...forward when he was drunk, and I had no intention of taking our relationship above the friendship level. "Guys, meet my bestest friend, Holly," John giggled, putting his arm around me and holding tight.
"John, you're drunk," I told him, sighing and rubbing my eyes. He was a pointless drunk, as well as forward. He had this way of beating around the bush about everything but the one thing unless you showed open annoyance.
"Holly, meet my friends," he giggled again, pulling me forward and shoving me in front of a group of boys. "Hols, these are my Mayday boys. Aren't they amazing?" He was still giggling, unaware he had just partially introduced me to one of my favourite bands; one of the very few reasons I had agreed to come on this tour.
"Nice to meet you, Holly," Derek smiled.
"I - uh - nice to meet you, too?" I squeaked, trying to find a place to hide and failing miserably. "Um, drinks anyone? John? 'Kay, bye!" I could feel them watching me as I left, but I was too nervous to stay, and that didn't happen often. I knew I must have seemed really rude, and that hadn't been my intention, but I can't function properly around my idols. At all. I made my way to the drinks table, where yet another group of boys stood laughing, though not in the drunken way John had been, and how he probably still was. I watched them for a moment, taking no notice of the boys themselves, just for the sake of something to look at, before moving closer and reaching for a bottle.
"-And then she was all like 'Baby, come back to my bus. I know you'd like that,' and he was like 'Ew. Are you insane? Give me booze!' You should've been there. The look she gave him was priceless," a lanky boy continued, laughing along with the rest of the group. The voice was so familiar, and yet I couldn't place where from.
"She'll still offer me again later," another boy chuckled, obviously the one the story had been about. That voice was familiar, too. "I'm just going to grab a drink. I'll catch up to you in a few, Jack."
The hand that had been about to grab a bottle of Stella slipped at the name, causing the bottle to clink against the others surrounding it and roll toward the group of boys. A group of boys I was now positive I didn't want to be anywhere near. A hand reached out to stop the bottle.
"Hey, this yours?" The second boy asked. I nodded swiftly, hearing the sounds of the other boys moving away from the table with their drinks. "Here," he offered, holding the bottle out. I shook my head. "Do you talk?" He laughed. Again, I shook my head, my cheeks heating. "Do you look at anything other than the floor?" I shook my head once again. His fingers rested under my chin, pulling my face up. "Going to let me hear that pretty little voice?"
"Sweet-talker," I grumbled. The smile on the boys face lit up - he was grinning like a loon.
"Sweet talking always seems to get me what I want," he stated proudly. The boy hadn't changed one bit, my heart still pounded looking at him. Maybe it was because of sheer nerves that he would be talking to me, but then again, maybe it was still the same old reason as ever. "So, is this gorgeous excuse for a merch girl going to tell me her name, or am I going to have to guess?"
"First off, you're going to tell me how you know I'm a merch girl," I told him, a little wary. He seemed to have been stalking me already.
"I saw you lugging boxes labelled 't-shirts' around earlier. Pretty much figures. Don't worry - I'm not the stalking kind. So, your name?" I looked around swiftly, trying to place a suitable name. It's not often you come across a girl named the exact same as the girl you spent half a year with in High School, is it? My eyes landed on the bottle I had picked up before and I smirked.
"Stella," I told him, still smirking. He raised his eyebrows at me.
"Surname?" My smirk intensified.
"Artois."
"That's not your real name, is it?" He frowned.
"Well, done we have a genius on our hands!" I joked. He smiled lightly.
"What's stopping you from telling me?"
"A sordid past," I half joked. I suppose it was true in some ways. I grabbed another couple of bottles, counting which of the boys in John's group had alcohol, or looked like they wanted another.
"Why won't you tell me?"
"You have to earn it," I shrugged. "Nobody gets anything for free off me anymore."
"Not even a name?"
"Not even a name. Goodbye, Alex," I told him, tightening my grip on the bottles and walking off.
"See you tomorrow, Stella!" I chuckled and carried on my walk. John cheered as I arrived with the bottles, handing one to each of the boys of Mayday Parade and keeping the last for myself, away from John who I knew had had too much.