Flutter

I wanna see you dance
Dance with me
Ashley and company
Move it now
-Ashley by Disco Curtis

May 29, 2010
6:35 PM
Dallas Cowboys Arena-Arlington,TX

The first thing that came to my mind when I saw a girl walk by the van with a “Joe we <3 you!” sign was “What the fuck?”

I know, I know.

No cussing around the Disney-obsessed cuties. Or the little sister.

But that’s the first thing that came to mind. Not my fault! Rosie is a bad influence. I can’t blame her though. I’m the one that’s too lazy to make new friends.

Just kidding. Kind of.

“What’s going on?” was all I could force out of my mouth. Mom looked back at me, smiling.

“Surprise!” She gestured out of the window. “It’s an early birthday present! Mr. Crawford got us five front row tickets!” Rosie squealed next to me. I, however, hesitated.

Mr. Crawford was my dad’s friend at his law firm. He usually got us tickets to events (mostly Ranger’s baseball games or the occasional low key Jazz festival) once or twice a year. But never to something this big. And don’t get me wrong. I liked the Jonas Brothers. What they stood for on the whole no sex till marriage thing, and their general good attitude towards everyone, like myself. They weren’t too bad in the looks department either. And hey, I even liked a few of their songs.

My cousin, Amy, had been a fan of there’s for as long as I can remember. She was a few years older than me, and her mom (my dad’s sister) moved to Jersey shortly after I was born. We used to visit them, and I’d been to one or two of the little gigs the Jonas Brothers had done in the area, and my cousin had chatted with them backstage (she worked on their original Jersey street team-and worked for a few other new bands now) and I’d met them once or twice for a few seconds max, but I was really sure they didn’t remember me (I’d been a bleach blonde-not a good look for me). I’d just hung back, working on my writing, or texting my friends back in London. But never, ever had I considered going to one of their concerts as of late. Especially not on, what had been reported to be, their last tour ever. I would leave those tickets to the super fans. They just…weren’t my style. I was more into English music (Natalia, The Saturdays, Lily Allen) and some pop punk than the sugar sweet Disney produced stuff.

“Uhh, wow.” That was my brilliant response. “That’s great!” That’s when I realized that I was still on the phone with Molly. She was literally screaming into the phone. Loud mouth.

“MICKIE?! MICKIE ARE YOU THERE?! WHAT’S GOING ON! I THINK MY MOM IS COMING! SHIT!”

“Mol you there?” I said into the phone, trying to down her decibel level a bit.

“Oh good, you’re there,” she said, back to whispering. “I think my mom is coming. Listen, I’ll call you later. Let me know what’s happening then.” My phone beeps once, and I know she’s gone.

Before I know it, we’ve parked in the lot closest to the arena, and we’re going through the huge glass doors. Girls all around us gave us looks. It was kind of amusing. I mean, I was in my dress, and my parents we dressed up, and Rosie was in her red mini dress, similar to mine, so we were a little bit…too dressy for the occasion. Most girls were in short shorts and tank tops and holding signs. Even those, I’m sad to say, who looked to be my age. We looked very out of place. But none the less, we continued into the arena, and got to our seats. By the time we got there, people were occupying almost every seat around us. I was surprised to notice a few people I recognized-a few Disney kids. I swear I spotted Selena Gomez and Chelsea Staub in the row behind us.

“How the hell did Mr. Crawford get us these seats?” I whispered loudly to Rosie. She shrugged, even though I was just kind of making a comment out loud to myself. I looked back, and then regretted it immediately. Marisa and three of her little friends were sitting in the row behind us, about three seats down. They sat there, both with dropped jaws and a burning hate in their eyes. I nudged Rosie, who looked back, and turned around as fastly as I did. She looked at me, and we both smirked at the same time. Ha-ha. Wait till this got out. Mickie Prescot and Rosie Anderson had one-upped Marisa Hall. This was fucking perfect. Screams were resonating from the walls in the large arena, and for a minute I thought maybe someone was coming out. Then, I looked across the room and saw large screens. The current message was “Scream if you think the Jonas Brothers are hot.”

Dear God. Please strike me down now. Thanks. Love, Mickie.

It was one of those stupid text-in things. The ones where they project your messages on the TV’s when you send them in? Things like “Scream if you love Frankie” and “Scream if you’re from Arlington” flashed off and on on it. I looked to Rosie as we sat down. She glanced over at the three seats next to us-empty. The only ones in the area. Girls were coming from the back, trying to sneak into less crowded areas.

The big, burly, muscled guard with tanned skin and a shaved head, I think, is what kept them from trying to come up front. Rosie and I pulled out our phones, both starting to text random things into the board. “Ha-ha,” Rosie laughed as I showed her one I sent that said “Scream if you think the JB are freakalicious.” The last one I sent, however, was the only one that made it up on the board.

Two minutes before the show was supposed to start, it showed up on screen. I was back on my phone, sending a text to a friend of mine and Rosie’s, Allan, when Rosie elbowed me in my side. I looked at her, and then to where she was pointing-at the screen, where the message “Shout it out if your from the UK!” I smiled, looking back at her and then to my mum. Dad was sitting next to Libs, smiling happily and bopping along to the song playing lightly overhead (I think it was See U In The Dark by Honor Society). It wasn’t until the person on the other side of Rosie screamed for the sign that I turned that way. When I finally looked, three girls were filing into the open seats next to her. Two of them looked our age, maybe older, and one looked to be my mum’s age. When I looked closer at the two younger ones, they looked vaguely familiar. One had shoulder length, dark brown hair and the other one, long, dirty blonde hair. Both of them looked as shocked to be there as we were, but were dressed up like us too.

And then, when the brunette pointed to the board, and the blonde turned around, I realized why they looked so familiar.

“Molly?!” I screeched, disbelieving. Rosie, Dad and Mum all turned, surprised by my loudness. Libs, of course, was oblivious, and just kept singing along to Honor Society. But I saw Molly, and I think my brain just about fried.

“Mickie!” Before I could say anything, I was swept into a huge, bone crushing hug by my best friend (Molly, not Rosie-Rosie doesn’t like big hugs). I had soo many questions. Why was she in Dallas? What was she doing at a Jonas Brothers concert, of all things? And finally, WHAT THE CRAP?! Why hadn’t she texted me telling me she was here?!

It was-in fact-a miracle in and of itself that we were in the same place at the same time.

At least, that’s what I thought. Until I saw the knowing smile that my mother and the woman I guessed to be Molly’s mother, passed to each other, thinking we couldn’t see. But ohhhh, we could. Molly and I were bloggers-we were trained to see everything around us-remember everything. There was nothing we didn’t notice.

And as Rosie, Molly, Jess and I eased into conversation about our days-they’d been driving for hours, and had finally stopped at some restaurant in Dallas and changed before coming to the stadium-the lights dimmed. The spotlight instantly went on stage. And every voice in the arena reverberated off the walls.

I should have been used to it, yeah. I’d been doing promo for small local bands-my cousin had gotten me into it years ago, passing out flyers for the very band we were seeing tonight-for a few years now. Screams at those concerts were wild. But these, these were fangirl screams.

Let me tell you something. Punk rock/pop bands-yeah, they don’t have fangirls. Sure, they have avid fans. But most of them, unlike the mass-produced, Disney sugar, are guys. And so their screams didn’t make me feel like the sound barrier was being broken. This was almost as bad as the God forsaken Hannah-freaking-Montana concert I’d been dragged to with my little sister some three years ago, right after I’d moved to the US, on her first tour with the Cheetah Girls, where I felt like my ears were going to bleed any minute.

Rosie, Jess, Molly and I looked at each other with wide eyes, and Rosie screamed “Jesus!” loudly enough for me to hear. I nodded. This was fucking nuts. Libby was standing next to my dad, her hands over her ears, but she seemed to be enjoying it. This surprised me. Usually she couldn’t stand loud noises-they made her go into meltdown mode. Just then, the spotlight focused on a girl walking on stage. A girl, I’m surprised to say, I know.

“Dude, it’s Kat!” I screamed above the loud girls behind us. Both Rosie and Molly looked up to the stage, surprised, and then nodded. Both of them had done promo with me in the past-Rosie was good at attracting the male population.

Kat, a long time friend of mine and my cousins, worked on the original Jersey team with my cousin. I’d always been close to her on days we did promo-she was a beautiful plus size, like me, with dark blonde hair (though she changed it almost as frequently as I did) and a personality that lit up a room when she smiled. She’d been doing promo for longer than any of us, and last time I’d checked with her, she’d been on tour with-you guessed it-the Jonas Brothers. She’d done the ’09 Summer Tour with them and Honor Society-a band she’d introduced to them in the first place, and eventually was a huge partaker in their signing to the JB’s new record label. But I had no idea she’d be going on stage. Especially not on the kick off concert of their last tour.

“Hello Dallas!” she said into the mike. The screams were louder than ever. “How are you guys doing tonight?” The girls and I screamed along with everyone this time, and I looked at them.

“On the count of three, yell ‘Go Kat!’” They nodded, and I counted down. “One…Two…Three…GO KAT!!” we screamed. Since we were right up against the stage, she heard us, and looked down. Her expression was mischievous at best. Her small smirk, combined with the shared look between our mothers, told me, and judging by her expression, Molly, that something was going on.

It was a few good minutes before the opening act came on. Kat came and went, her small introduction pumping up the crowd. The introduction of the band came as the third surprise for the night. As their first song started playing, I thought that maybe I was hearing things. But when Rosie slapped me across the chest (“Ow! What the hell?!” “Just look!”), I knew I wasn’t.

“Ashley, baby. We’re going down slowly, take me. I’ve heard, the worst, but honestly, I can’t get over you!” And in the middle of the stage, a large circle rose to show four boys, playing their hearts out. My own gave a lurch. I looked to everyone on my left side, and they were as surprised as I was. I mean, I wasn’t expecting them to be there. I had no idea that Disco Curtis was going on tour with the Jonas Brothers. They’re two completely separate genres. Pop-punk meets Disney Sugar. It was…unexpected at best.

Disco Curtis was one of the many local bands I did promo for. I posted blogs, passed out flyers, left promo slips at restaurants when we went out. I was even an extra in their music video last summer. It was just a word of mouth business. They were more pop then punk, but most of their followers were fans of bands like Fall Out Boy and Owl City. It was a pleasant surprise, yes, but a surprise none the less that they should be going on tour with a band like the Jonas Brothers. And I hadn’t seen anything online or about it on their blogs or pages; they had no upcoming shows as far as I was aware.

Ignoring our confusion, the four of us just sang and danced (crazily, of course) along to the songs off their EP, until the last song in their set.

“Okay guys, this last one goes out to our friends in the audience,” Tanner, the lead singer/guitarist said. Then, I swear, he gave a knowing glance towards the front row. “You know who you are.” And he started to play their cover of Just Dance by Lady Gaga, which I’m pretty sure they knew was my favorite cover of theirs. After a few minutes, they were off, and none other than Demi Lovato came on. I gave a side glance at my friends, just to see what their reactions were

Demi, along with a few other current Disney US and UK stars, were old friends of mine. When I was a kid, every summer I would come to the US with my mum to visit her sister, who’d moved to Dallas at the recommendation of her friend. Her friend being a talent scout, who suggested the second she met me that I should be an actress. So Mum signed me up, and I was in a group of about twenty kids all run under the same couple of people. Our acting coach was Cathryn McDonald, Cody Linley’s mom, and among the people in the group were Demi, Selena Gomez (who was two seats behind me), Tiffany Thornton, Tony Oller, and Jennifer Stone. I only knew Demi, Selena and Tony well enough to say we were friends, but Demi and I had stayed pretty close over the years, occasionally texting or emailing. In the UK, I’d continued my acting and voice lessons, and a few minor stars had arisen from that group as well.

We stood through Demi’s heartfelt performance, cheering loudly, and then as soon as she got off stage, came the real screaming. I’m pretty sure my ears popped on their own, and I felt the floor beneath me vibrate with both the loudness of the screams, and the center of the stage rising again.

And the Jonas Brothers were standing ten feet in front of me, the beginning chords of That’s Just the Way We Roll starting to blast through the speakers. For the next half hour, the four of us baffled up at the guys in front of us.

Okay, I have to admit that they were attractive. I wasn’t a screaming fan. I never would be. But I looked up at them, and couldn’t deny that I saw what those enthusiastic fans saw. Three young, talented brothers who obviously got the good looks from their parents.

It wasn’t until after Nick had his solo stage time, playing Black Keys and A Little Bit Longer, that the fourth surprise of the night reared its (not so) ugly head. Joe and Kevin came back up to play with his brother, and the music stopped. Not slowed, not dimmed, just, stopped. All three of them had their mics up, ready to talk.

“How are y’all liking the concert so far?” Joe said into his handheld mic. Of course, the entire arena screamed. He smiled widely, and glanced at Kevin, who started talking.

“We’ve got a little surprise for you guys,” he said. “Please welcome to the stage, Ann Shoket!” I heard Molly gasp in time with me, and we both looked at each other at the same time. Ann Shoket! The freaking editor of SEVENTEEN MAGAZINE! She was one of our HEROES. She helped SO many teen writers get into the mainstream spotlight. And from one of the little slots under the stairs on the stage, Ann came out, her hair bouncing perfectly. Oh, what it must be like to work at one of the most respected teen fashion magazines in the country.

She had her own handheld mic, and spoke as soon as the (minor) cheers died down. “Hey everyone! I’m gonna make this as short and sweet as possible. I know everyone wants to get back to hearing some awesome music.” She smiled, and the crowd cheered. “For those of you who don’t know who I am, my name is Ann, and I’m the Editor and Chief of Seventeen magazine.” Once again, cheers. “I think it’s safe to say,” she started again, “that this tour is a special one for the Jonas Brothers and their fans. It’s their last one.” The room erupted in awww’s and boo’s. Wow. Tough crowd. “I know, everyone at Seventeen is just as sad.” She paused. “As such, we wanted to send someone, or a few someones, to document the occasion.” She glanced back at the boys behind her.

“As soon as the boys announced that this would be their final tour, we contacted them straight away, and asked them if they would be okay with us sending a team in to follow them on their last tour. Of course, being the awesome people they are, they, along with the rest of the Jonas family, agreed. We spent months scowering websites and sending out emails, and finally hit the jackpot. About a month ago, we came across a pair of blogs.” She smiled. “Blogs run by two teenagers, who grew up around music and writing, and know how to act and write maturely. We found these blogs, and knew that these two girls, who actually knew each other already, were perfect for the job.” Ann gave a glance to the front row, and I think my heart skipped a beat.

“And these two girls,” she smiled, and then looked back a final time, before speaking again, “are in the front row right now. Let’s welcome up Mickie Prescot and Molly Hart.”