Chasing Fireflies

I worked my hands through the huge knot in my hair, occasionally sighing in frustration. I knew I had only a few minutes before I had to go get the guys. It served me right, I guess, spending all that time reading my book and losing track of time. The book was so interesting that I just got carried away, and when I looked at the bedside clock it said 8:34.

Finally getting the knot untangled, I walked back into the bedroom. Clothes were still scattered across the room. I hurriedly shoved them all in my tiny suitcase and then heaved it off the bed, pulling out the handle as soon as it hit the ground. One glance at the clock told me that it was 8:43. “Shit,” I uttered, practically running out of my room, but not before making sure that I left the room key in there for the maid to get.

Frantically, I knocked on both of the guys’ doors and they both opened at the same time, Garrett in one and John in the other. “You look like you just ran a marathon,” John stated.

“I’m late,” I told him.

“Like…”

“NO! God, John. I’m late in knocking on your doors.” I pushed my unused hand through my hair, suddenly wishing I had put it up. The temperature inside the motel was already too much for me to handle.

“Yeah,” Garrett said. “Three minutes late, whoo!” He rolled his eyes. “We’ll be fine, Laurel.” He walked back into this room, grabbed his suitcase and came out into the hallway with me. “Pat is almost done.”

I nodded. “So, how are you feeling?” I asked. I shifted nervously on the balls of my feet, hoping Garrett would answer me positively.

“The nerves are starting to go away,” Garrett replied.

“That’s good.”

At that moment, Jared walked out of the other room, suitcase in tow. “Hey guys!” he said. “I’m pumped, aren’t you?”

Garrett grinned. “Yeah, I am.”

“What about you?” Jared asked me. “Are you pumped?”

“Hell yeah!” I exclaimed. “I haven’t waited through three years of band practices for nothing, have I?”

Jared laughed. “You certainly haven’t.” He looked at his watch. “Damn, we need to get going.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

“8:56.” Jared shook his head. “John’s hair is apparently not working right. Like, what the hell, right? His words, not mine. And Kennedy’s freaking out because he can’t find his lucky guitar pick.” Jared shook his head again. “And where the hell is Pat?”

“I’m right here,” Pat said, coming out of his room, shutting the door behind him. “Sorry I took so long. There was this really cute rabbit on the news and--what?” Pat looked at me and I cracked up.

“Nothing. You’re just really cute.” Pat blushed. “You know what I mean, Patrick.”

“Well anyway,” Pat went on, “this rabbit apparently saved this little boy’s life.”

“Aw, that’s so cute!” I cooed.

“I know, right?” Pat exclaimed.

“You guys have such a weird friendship,” John said, coming out of his room, Kennedy right behind him. “I mean seriously. I’ve known you guys for over a year and I still don’t understand your relationship.”

“I’ve known them since elementary school and I don’t even understand them,” Kennedy said.

“I don’t think you ever will,” Garrett said. “I know I won’t.”

“Do we have everything?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. For some reason, all this talk about Pat and I’s friendship was making me feel weird. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, except that I definitely didn’t like the feeling. I turned to Garrett. “Do you have everything you need?” Garrett nodded. I turned to Pat. “Do you have everything you need?” Pat nodded. I repeated the process with John, Jared, and Kennedy, and then we were on our way to the van.

“Who’s driving today?” Garrett asked. “Laurel and I are out of the running because we drove yesterday.”

“I’ll drive,” John offered. We all nodded in acceptance, and when we reached the van, we piled in, Jared taking the passenger seat, and me scrunched in-between Pat and Kennedy in the backseat.

When we were all buckled in (I made the guys do it), John turned the car on, put in in reverse, backed out of the parking space, and then put the car in drive. “Do you know where you’re going?” I asked John.

John laughed. “Kinda-sorta?”

“I’ll let you know when to turn. We pretty much just go on the main highway for, like, half an hour, and then we turn off to the right.”

“Alright,” John replied. “Just let me know which exit to get off at.”

“Sure thing,” I told him. After a minute, I turned to Kennedy and asked, “Did you find your lucky guitar pick?”

Kennedy sighed. “No. I’m not sure what happened to it. I guess I won’t have any luck today.”

“Stop it!” I said. “Of course you’re going to have luck today. Here,” I reached behind the seat and found Kennedy’s extra suitcase, then zipped it open.

“What are you doing?” Kennedy asked, turning around in his seat to see what I was up to. When he saw what was in my hands he gasped. “You--you put him down,” he seethed at me.

“What’s going on?” Pat asked, jumping into the conversation like he always does.

I pulled Suckers into the backseat, furiously trying to keep him away from Kennedy’s grasp. “Stop it, Laurel!” he yelled, trying (and failing) once again to take Suckers from me.

By this time, Jared and John had realized the commotion in the backseat. Jared turned around in his seat and John took a quick peek at his rearview mirror. They both giggled. “Why are you holding Suckers, Laurel?” Jared asked.

“Because,” I said, handing Suckers to Pat to make sure that Kennedy couldn’t grab him, “Kennedy couldn’t find his lucky pick so I figured that Suckers could be his good luck charm today.” I took Suckers back from Pat and said to Kennedy, “Here, take Suckers. He shall bring you good luck today.” Kennedy ripped Suckers out of my hands and threw him into the trunk. “What the hell was that for?” I yelled. “Now you’re going to have horrible luck!”

“Yeah,” John said. “We’re not going to get a record deal because of what you just did.”

Kennedy rolled his eyes. “Me throwing a stuffed bear is not going to help or hurt our cause, okay?”

“I thought he wasn’t a stuffed bear, though,” I said. “You always called him…what was it? A snuggly, cuddly, fuzzy bear.”

“THAT WAS WHEN I WAS SEVEN, LAUREL!”

Everyone cracked up. Jared high-fived me and John and Garrett grinned at me. “I totally remember that,” Jared announced. “We were at a sleep away camp,” he explained to Garrett and John, who didn’t know Kennedy, Pat, Jared, and I back then. “And on the first night, Kennedy brought Suckers to the campfire, and then…” Jared laughed. “Then, our camp leader, Miss Caroline, told him that it might catch on fire. And he said, quote, ‘This is Suckers. He’s my snuggly, cuddly, fuzzy bear and I won’t leave him alone in the tent.’”

John dared to take his eyes off of the road to look at Kennedy for a second. “Oh my God, bro.”

Kennedy blushed. “Like I said, I was seven.”

“Still,” Garrett said. “We’re telling that story at your wedding.”

“When the fuck am I having a wedding, Garrett? I don’t even have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t know.” Garrett shrugged. “Maybe you’ll get one soon.”

Kennedy sighed. “Whatever, you guys.”

&&

The Warner Music Group Company building in Burbank was huge, at least twenty stories. At John’s request, we all took a minute to look at the building, to calm down, to think about how huge this moment was. There was complete silence around us for a minute, at least to my ears. The traffic, the buzzing of the people all around us, it was all gone. All I could hear was the beating of my heart, and I knew that this moment meant just as much to me as it did to them.

Garrett was the first to break out of the trance. Within a few seconds, we all broke out of our own as well.

I sighed, smiling at the guys. “Welcome to the future, The Maine.” I laughed as we all high-fived each other. “You guys are going to do great, I just know it,” I said.

The guys took another minute to calm down again, and then we proceeded into the building. The lady at the front desk was tall and slim, and her brunette hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Her nametag read Christina, and I smiled as we walked up to her desk. “Hello,” she greeted us, a warm smile on her face. “How may I help you?”

“We’re here for an appointment with Clive Singer. I believe it’s at 10:45?” Christina clacked away at her keyboard for a minute, then looked back up at us. “Yes, I do believe he has an appointment with The Maine at that time. Are you The Maine?”

“I’m not in the band,” I told her, “but they are.” I motioned toward the guys.

“It’s great that you’re here for support,” Christina said, “but I’m sorry to tell you that you can’t go in to the meeting with them.”

I smiled. “That’s fine. Is there a waiting area outside Mr. Singer’s office or should I wait down here?”

“There are not waiting areas on the higher stories, but you’re welcome to sit in our lobby. The meeting should take about half an hour. We have coffee and donuts over on the counter there.” She pointed to a long, marble table near the huge stained-glass window on the left. “If you need anything else, just let me know.” She turned to the guys. “Clive’s office is on the seventeenth floor. And good luck. One tip I can give you? Tell Clive what gave you inspiration to start the band. He loves hearing inspiring stories.”

“Thank you so much,” John said. Garrett, Jared, Kennedy, and Pat all nodded in agreement.

“It’s no problem. You guys are going to do fine.”

The guys smiled at Christina again and then turned to me. “Good luck,” I told them. “I love you guys so much and I know you can do this.”

Everyone took turns hugging me and then they walked over to the elevator. I watched them go into it and then saw Jared press the button. Pat waved at me one last time as the doors shut, and I prayed to God that their dreams would come true.