Take This To Heart

I walked around the merch area and window shopped. I was positive if I wanted anything, I could get Alex or Jack to get it for me for free or with a very special discount. I was walking back to the ATL merch both when I was called down again. "Hey, dude with that CREW shirt?" I turned around to see a guy with brown hair and gaged ears rushing towards me, a few people among the crowd whispering and pointing at him. He glanced around nervously.

I tried to think of where I'd saw him before. I stared at him, head cocked to the side as he furiously grabbed onto my shoulders and pulled me behind a bus.

He sunk to the ground, letting his back slide down the metal framing. He looked up at me, pulling out a cigarette with a shaky, inked hand. Now that I looked at him, he had tats all over his arms.

He lit up and offered me one. My mouth and lungs itched for it, but I knew as soon as I took it, I'd ruin my two months of being straight edged and clean and I was going for a whole year of being sober from any form of drugs or alcohol. My last high had been when Alex and Jack caught me at Derek's. I shook my head.

"You're loss." He took a long drag and peaked around the bus. "Do you see her?" He turned to look at me. I gave him a confused look. He turned back, glancing around paranoid at the crowd. "Short. Brunette with pink highlights. Really skinny. Looks anorexic. And she's weary a top that says "WHAT IS LOVE?" in big letters.

He turned back towards me.

"Are you mad?" I asked, kind of bluntly and rude.

He frowned. "No, but I can't help it that some random chick wants to have sex with me. Not that she wasn't pretty. But she was creepy. The type you get a restraining order on."

I laughed. "Hate to be you." I smirked, but then frowned. "But who are you?"

He took another drag and flicked the ashes. "Christofer Ingle. Who are you?"

I walked away to look out the other side of the bus, seeing no one was fit his description. "I've heard that name before. And to you, I'm 'Dude in the CREW shirt'."

He snicker. "You're not part of the crew, are you?"

"I'm here with All Time Low."

"How'd you win?"

I was really confused now. "Win what?"

He ignored the question and instead took another drag of his cig. "The contest."

"What contest?" This guy was crazy.

"The contest where you get to be dragged around by All Time Low on the Warped Tour and pretend your crew." I glared at him. He shrugged. "Sorry. I just don't get how you ended up on The Warped Tour with a big band like them and not win a random contest." He paused. "Oh, wait. You must be the new pet! The lost cause ATL is taking up. Phoenix, right?" He was looking eager for an answer.

I frowned at him, turning defensive. "Phoenix Envy, actually and, no, it's not like that. I'm not a pet. Alex went through it to adopt me." He nodded, not seeming convinced. "But I didn't think things would be spread around like that. Like I was portrayed as a stray dog."

He seemed embarrassed and tried to mask it with a compliment, attempting to change the subject. "I like your piercing." He motion towards my lip ring.

I smiled shyly. Hardly no one ever told me they liked my piercing except for Christine when she was still alive. She'd been the one to get it for me. Mona had a fit when we came back from the Tattoo and Piercing Parlor that Thursday afternoon. "Thanks. I like your tattoo." I'd been raised by Christine's morals and in her rule book, if you gained a compliment, you returned one of equal value –no matter if the same person had just revealed a rumor that was circulating behind your back and depicted you as a lost cause hope case.

He looked at his arms and knuckles and hands before looking down his shirt. "Which one?"

I furrowed my brows. Did he have one on his chest or something? I nodded to his bare feet. Very odd, but still…. "The peace sign. On your foot." He glanced at his foot.

"Oh." A small chuckle. "I forgot about that one."

"So…are you in a band or something?" I was still racking my brain, trying to remember where I'd seen his face.

He shrugged. "Solo act, actually, but when I go on stage, yeah, I have other guys that help me out with some instruments so I guess I'm a band. Kinda?" He looked at me, saying "kinda" in a questioning state.

"I guess." I shrugged it off. "What band/solo act?"

"Nevershoutnever. No spaces. One word."

My eyes widened. It was my first real day of tour and I'd already accomplished my goal? "Oh." I muttered, for lack of words.

He smirked when he seemed to realize my uneasiness. "What? Don't like my music? It's cool."

I shook my head, baffled. "No, no. It's great. It's just my sister loved you. That's all."

"Is she here with you?" He didn't seem to catch the 'ed' on the end of love that transformed the verb into past tense.

I shook my head. "She's dead."

His eyes widened. "Oh…uh…sorry. I didn't mean to…." He stopped curtly and looked away.

"It's fine."

He tried to change the subject. "I think it's safe to go out now…." He paused. "…Would you like to go get something to eat? I'm kinda hungry…."

I shrugged. "I don't have anything else to do."

He snorted. "Great to know I'm your 'last resort' buddy."

I grinned a half grin. I was still a little upset over the lost cause thing. "But I need to go back to the bus for a moment."

He shrugged. "Yeah. I need to go change clothes anyways." He sniffs his shoulder and makes a face. "And need to shower. Meet you at the meal venue in an hour?"

I nod. "Sure."

He takes another long drag before putting out - what's left of the cigarette - in the dirt. "Cool, man." He stood up and dusted off his ripped jeans and band shirt. "I'll see you then."

I stood as well as he walked off and watched the young barefooted guy walk off. He's such a hippie, I thought.