Sequel: Painting Flowers
Status: Completed!

What You Do to Me

008.

Holden luckily stayed out my way the rest of the afternoon, sequestering himself in the back lounge with Maggie, where she kept him busy with couplely stuff, while I hung out in the front with Eric and Quinn. Eric was playing around on his laptop, while Quinn tried to teach me the finer points of Super Mario Cart. I’m rather hopeless when it comes to video games, and I’ll be the first to admit it. I was having a bit of trouble, not only because I couldn’t figure out how the hell to drop those fucking banana peels, but I also got motion-sickness very easily, and the craziness of the game wasn’t helping.

We were driving to Colorado where we would have a hotel for the night, then have a day off before performing, and then spending a full day driving out to Illinois. I never really understood the way Warped Tour was scheduled. To me, it seemed easier just to go from one state to the next performing shows, but instead we began on the West coast, did some southwestern dates, and then drove clear across the country making only two stops along the way. Then, down the east coast and back to California. But, then again, I guess it was better to finish off the deserts of Nevada and Arizona in June rather than August.

Quinn beat me once again, and I dropped the controller in defeat.

“Can’t we just play checkers or something? I’m sure I could beat you in that.”

A short blast of music erupted from Eric’s computer, causing both Quinn and I to look over in curiosity. Eric however, paled visibly and quickly hit the volume button to silence the machine.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“What was that?” I asked, sitting up straighter and trying to get a look at his lap top screen.
“Did you find some new music and not tell me?” I sent him a teasing smile, but was surprised when he didn’t respond, merely exited out from whatever window he had opened.

“It’s nothing.”

I shot Quinn a questioning look, but he just shrugged, not having any idea what Eric was up to either. Before I could question the bassist any further, however, Maggie emerged from the bunk area, pile of clothing in her arms.

“Here,” she said, unceremoniously dumping it into my lap. “Try these on.”

“What for?” I asked, not really feeling like getting off the couch.

“You need to have a cute outfit for tonight.”

“Why? I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

Maggie gave me a look that told me it didn’t matter that I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, that I should still look cute. I knew she was right, I just spent way too much time around boys.

“Don’t work too hard, Maggie,” Quinn commented as I stood up. “You know it’s nearly impossible to make Jency look decent. Don’t want you to strain yourself.”

We ignored him and shut the door behind us. Maggie looked incredibly excited by the fact that I was willing to change out of my torn jean shorts and beer-stained t-shirt that probably belonged to the Irishman in the front lounge.

“Okay, do you want to wear a dress? Or are you thinking shorts? I think I’m going to wear a dress, so you can too, but not this one because that’s what I’m wearing. Oh, here try on this top, it’s so cute. And I have the perfect eye shadow to go with it!”

I listened quietly as she rambled on, rolling my eyes good naturedly as she thrust articles of clothing in my arms before swiping them away again indecisively. She pulled some more clothes off of her bunk and held them up in front of her.

“How about these?”

“There fine. Mags, how the hell do you have all these clothes? Where do you keep them all?” I marveled at just how much stuff she had crammed into the one suitcase we were allocated for tour. There was a whole store in there.

“Sweetie, please,” Maggie said, finally picking out a top for me to wear. “You’re good at guitar and singing, and I’m good at packing and accessorizing.”

I chuckled lightly and accepted the clothing. “Why exactly are you making me dress up? You know that it’s going to be beer pong and chugging contests, we don’t really need to look our best for that.”

“Because you’ve spent way too much time looking like Quinn – not caring about what you look like. You’re trying to get back to normal, remember?”

“I guess so,” I replied, wondering if I really had the energy to get all dolled up. I didn’t really feel like putting in the effort.

Maggie, however, would not take no for an answer, and 45 minutes later, she was in the hotel room I shared with Eric straightening my hair and helping me with my eyeliner. I was helpless at makeup, almost as bad as I was at video games, so when she was finished and I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt surprisingly good about myself. I looked done up, rather than all sweaty and plain like I did every normal day. Maggie’s white beaded tube-top fit me well and easily went with my dark blue Bermuda short jeans. The blue accents in the shirt in it were highlighted with matching earrings and eye shadow. I had refused the heeled strappy sandals she had offered, instead settling a pair of gladiators. Maggie was really going all out, with a white and pink flowery summer dress and high pink espadrilles. Too much for me, but she looked gorgeous as always.

“What time is it?” she asked from the bathroom as added the final touches to her own make-up.

“11:13,” I responded.

“Oh, well, we’ll be fashionably late,” she said, shrugging, coming out of the bathroom and grabbing a clutch bag. “Eric, are you coming?”

Eric Corsini sat on the other queen sized bed in the hotel room, flipping through the TV channels on the flat screen.

“No, I think I’m going to stay in tonight. I have some emails to respond to and stuff.”

“Like who?” I asked.

“Oh, you know, my mom and stuff.”

“Right,” I replied, not quite believing him. The kid had been acting weird lately.

“Okay, well, we’ll see you later. Come on, Jen,” Maggie said, taking my hand and pulling me off the bed. Already I felt myself become frustrated. How come Eric got to stay in? He wasn’t exactly a social butterfly either. I dragged my feet as we walked down the carpeted hallway. It was a decent hotel, with about a third of the bands and crew of Warped Tour staying there. I was looking forward to the next day – our first real day off since tour started – when I would hang out by the pool, do a little shopping and really relax. But, now, I had to put up with drunken band guys and horny groupies. Maybe if I played nice Maggie would let me leave early...

“And you’re not leaving till I do,” Maggie said, as if reading my thoughts, as we approached the door. The thumping music could be heard down the hall, and I felt bad for anyone on the floor who had been hoping to get a good night’s rest. Sighing, I prepared myself. Five months earlier, I would have been excited for a party, a chance to hang out with a group of people who loved what I loved, who enjoyed life and lived for the moment. Now, it seemed a chore.

Upon entering the hotel suite, we were immediately struck with the distinct smell of beer and a loud chorus of cheers as Quinn sunk the final cup in a game of beer pong. Naturally, he was the first on the table, and – according to the scoreboard taped to the wall - had already destroyed three opponents and was cracking his knuckles in preparation to take on a nervous looking JR from Less Than Jake.

“Ladies!” he called to us as we strolled into the room. I zigzagged my way over to him, dodging solo cups left and right, to where he held up a pong ball. “Give it a good luck blow?” he asked, wiggling his eyes at me suggestively. I couldn’t help but crack a small smile at him, and blew lightly on the plastic orb. Quinn grinned that cheeky smile of his and without taking his eyes away from mine, tossed the ball to the other end of the table, where it landed with a plop in the very front cup of JR’s pyramid. The gathered crowd hollered and cheered, and Quinn planted a tipsy kiss on my forehead. “Be my teammate when we go to doubles?” he asked.

“How could I say no to that face?” I chuckled, patting his cheek slightly.

Satisfied, Quinn turned back to his game, leaving me to realize that I had lost Maggie in crowded suite. I recognized a few of the people there, but most of them were crew and girls I had never been introduced to, so I didn’t have exactly have anyone to strike up a casual conversation with. I wondered if perhaps she had gone off to find Holden, but I doubted he had actually come. He wasn’t really one for parties. And even if he was there, Holden wasn’t exactly someone I felt like hanging out with at the moment. Determined not to seem like a total loser and outcast, standing alone among a mass of people all drunk and having a good time, I went off in search of alcohol. I wasn’t planning on drinking, but at least having a red cup in my hand would help me fit in a bit more.

There was a small kitchen at the back of the main lounge, where most of the drinks were being served. I walked up and gave Danny Duncan a smile as he grabbed a beer bottle from the fridge. Nodding his head in greeting, he grabbed another one out and handed it to me.

“Too classy for the solo cups?” I asked, clinking the class bottle with his.

“Yeah, you know how I roll,” he chuckled. “Glad you could make it, are you staying in this hotel?”

“Yeah, just down the hall.” I took a small sip of the beer and tried not to grimace at the taste. I was never a huge fan of beer, but I had drank it before at parties and such, mostly to get tipsy and loosen up a bit. I had no desire to that tonight, however, and I knew that the beer in my hand would mostly likely be poured down the drain at the end of the night.

“Do you know everyone here?” Danny asked, after a moment of awkward silence. Out of all the WTK boys, Danny was the one I found the most tolerable. Drew, while sweet, could be incredibly awkward; Hunter I found to be a bit boisterous and loud (a bit like Quinn, and really who can handle more than one of him?); and Travis, well, Travis was Travis. Enough said.

“Not really,” I admitted. “I’ve been kinda lame so far on tour and been keeping to myself a bit.”

Danny merely smiled understandingly and took me by the hand. “Come on, I’ll introduce you around.”

I met countless people that night, most of whom I wouldn’t remember their names in the morning – and many wouldn’t even remember meeting me due to their level of intoxication. But, nevertheless, it was nice to finally put names and faces together, as well as songs and faces together. I always knew the music, just not necessarily the bands.

“Jen!” Quinn called, coming over to me and stealing me away from Danny, Scooter, and one half of Mayday Parade. “We’re up on the table.”

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight,” I said to him as we approached, and grimaced as I saw who was on the other side – a very drunk and very loud duo: Travis Clark and Hunter Thomsen.

“More for me,” Quinn beamed down at me, clearly buzzed but not nearly at his end point. “Alright, fuckers,” He yelled down the table, over the loud music and talking. “Ladies first, so off you go.”

“You have a lady on your team!” Hunter yelled back, swaying slightly, but picked up the white ping pong ball anyway and drunkenly tried to steady his aim.

To my surprise, he made his first shot, and jumped up and down excitedly with Travis, who was cheering like a little girl. Giving a respectful nod, Quinn quickly down the liquid in the cup, before motioning for Travis to take his turn. The red head missed, miserably, and the balls were sent back down to our end. Quinn of course made his, but I just barely missed as the plastic ball bounced off the rim of the red cup. As expected, there were dramatic groans all around. When Hunter again made his shot, I picked up the solo cup that was to be mine and handed it off to Quinn, who downed it immediately.

“Hey!” Travis cried, pointing at me accusingly. “You have to drink your own!” He then proceeded to get a “DRINK. DRINK. DRINK.” chant going among the spectators. I rolled my eyes at his obnoxiousness. I wasn’t getting myself into it. I was about to threaten to quit, when Quinn held up his arms to silence the group. Taking control, he raised his voice in an authoritative manner.

“No where in the rules,” he boomed, loud and clear despite his intoxication. “No where in the rules does it stipulate that she must drink her own beer. It only says that it all must be drunk. Therefore, I am allowed to take her cups.” I was impressed with him, not only because he stood up for me, but also because he managed to say ‘stipulate’ without slurring his words. Quinn was definitely earning bonus points with me lately – I would have to remember to thank him and perhaps buy him a new video game or something.
Travis pouted while Hunter continued to chant “drink!” giddily to himself.

With Quinn’s mad skills at beer pong, and my sober accuracy, we were able to easily defeat Travis and Hunter, who were nearly falling over by the time the game had finished. Giving Quinn a high five, I looked around once again for Maggie, who had been MIA since we arrived. I quickly found her this time, however, chatting animatedly with Drew Thomsen, who was nodding along and sipping his drink frequently. I didn’t exactly want to deal with that awkwardness (I knew Drew had a crush on me, and while I was flattered, I really wasn’t interested), so I headed over to the couches and plopped down next to a girl with long, straight, two toned hair and nose ring, which reminded me of Zack Merrick’s. I winced slightly as I thought about the last conversation that I had with the All Time Low bassist, all those months ago.

“Oh my God,” the girl said, looking over at me. “You’re Jency Burke right? I’m Sierra Kusterbeck. I can’t believe we haven’t met before!”

As soon as she said her name, I knew who she was – lead singer of one of the other Warped bands, VersaEmerge, and one of the very few other girls in the bands. It was pretty astounding that we hadn’t met before this, so I gave her a smile and shook her extended hand. While I loved Maggie to death, here was a girl who knew exactly what my life was like, living with boys 24/7.

“I know, that’s crazy. Well, it’s nice to meet you finally,” I smiled back.

“I know, I feel like I already know you though. I’ve heard so much about you from Alex!”

I stared at her, blindsided. “Wh-what?”

“Alex Gaskarth, you guys dated right? Well, at least that’s the way he made it sound.” Sierra smiled innocently at me, not knowing the searing pain she had caused to tear through my chest. “When I saw him a few months ago you were all he could talk about.”

“We didn’t date,” I replied, not quite sure if this was the truth or a lie. “We just lived next door to each other for a couple of months and hung out fairly often. He had a girlfriend back in Baltimore.” The words tasted like acid in my mouth, and clearly my tone was none too friendly, since Sierra’s smile faltered.

“Oh..oh..okay. Sorry, I just assumed...”

“It’s okay,” I huffed, even though it really wasn’t. Why couldn’t he, for once, just stay the fuck out of my life and stop talking about me to every single fucking person?

“Jency!” Quinn cried happily, swaying over and holding out his hands to me. “Come dance with me!”

“Dance with her,” I responded in annoyance, jerking my head over to Sierra, before standing up and pushing my way toward the door. I didn’t care how long I had stayed, or what Maggie would say, all I knew was that I needed to get out. I needed to forget Alex Gaskarth and he needed to forget about me. I was furious at him for so many things, but right now it was because for some reason, he always seemed to show up just when I was feeling a bit better about myself.

I had just made it to the door when a tall, drunk figure stepped in front of me, red hair falling in front of his face.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he slurred. “You can’t leave yet. It’s too early!!”

“Move Travis,” I growled, shoving past him.

“Jencyyyyyy!” He cried, following me out the door, tripping over his flip-flops along the way. I ignored him and stalked down the hallway to my room, hoping that I couldn’t hear the thumping music from my bed.

I felt his long arm snake it’s way around my shoulders as Travis fell in step beside me and groaned in annoyance. Now was not the time.

“You look really pretty, Jency,” he giggled. “Like, B-E-E-E-A-OOOTIFUL.”

“Thanks.”

“I really like you Jen, you know that?” I stopped at my door and turned to face him.

“I know that you’re not going to remember any of this in the morning.”

Travis smiled drunkenly down at me. “Do you like me Jency? And don’t say no because that would...that would just be sad, you know?”

I sighed, wondering what was the best thing to say to make him go away.

“Yes, Travis, I do like you. Now, go back to the party.”

He fist pumped in the air and did a little dance. Taking his distraction as an opportunity, I slid out my room key and slid it into the lock. Just as the green light flickered, signaling I could finally escape, I felt myself be spun around and pressed against the door. Before I could even register what was happening, Travis Clark was kissing me.
♠ ♠ ♠
Woah, right? I know. This wasn't going to happen in this chapter, I was just going to have Travis profess his love or something like that, but this seemed a bit more fun :)

So, I was incredibly bummed on Saturday night, as I got home from visiting my grandparents that night only to learn that We The Kings had been performing at a festival literally TWO BLOCKS from my house and I missed it. sucks.

oh well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Comments are always appreciated! And have a fantabulous Memorial Day!

xx