When I Look at the Stars, I Feel Like Myself

When we stop at the venue, I think we're somewhere in Virginia, we have to do sound-check. Holland goes first, playing a small part of 'Circles'. When she's done, I see her walk off the stage and run into Jack.

He says something, and she looks like she's about to say something rude back. But, she smiles and politely declines whatever he had just suggested, turning and walking away.

I'm glad she really did decided to be nicer to him, even though she still turned him down. Small steps, I guess.

Dalton comes up beside me, “She doesn't know how lucky she is to have Jack Barakat on her tail,” he complains, “I wish she would just think of it as a blessing instead of a burden,” he sighs.

I feel bad for Dalton, really, I do. He has never had a boyfriend and no one has looked at him like they're interested.

Then again, it's never happened to me before, either. Maybe I should feel sorry for myself, too.

“Elina,” Zack says from behind me. I turn towards him, heart beating fast at the sound of my name spilling from his lips, “Do you know where Riley is?”

My heart drops. Of course. John likes Riley, and now Zack does too. It's okay; I'm used to it. She's got that beach-girl look to her that guys die for. Honey blond hair, big brown eyes, tan skin. And she's really skinny, too. Almost in a sick way.

“Uh,” I start, thinking back to when I last saw her, “I think she's still out on her run,” I reply, and Zack's eyes light up. Of course, he's an exercise freak, and so is she. Why wouldn't he be head-over-heels for her already?

“Really?” he asks, “It's not fun to run alone just before a show, tell her to ask me next time. I'll go with her,”

Of course you will. “So what did you need her for?”

“She needs to do her sound check, but I guess I'll do it, since she's busy,”

“Okay,” I say, and he walks on stage. I go watch him, I have a thing for bassists and drummers, I really do. I don't know what's so different about them, but just watching them play... it's unreal.

It's so different than just pounding on keys.

He starts with the opening of Coheed and Cambria's 'Welcome Home' and I almost die. Is he for real playing this song? Just over and over, the beginning to the song, for about two minutes.

It's really sexy.

“You're drooling,” someone whispers in my ear.

I whip around to find Rian, smirking at me.

“We all agree that Zack is sexy, but seriously?” he wipes at the corner of my mouth.

I swat at his hand, “I was not drooling,” I say, not sure if that's the truth. I can't keep up with all these people, I haven't even talked to Rian yet, until now, and he's tied for first on my favorite people in All Time Low list.

“You were pretty close. Just a spit bubble here and there,” he smiles at me, then suddenly frowns.

“What's wrong?” he asks.

I pull my eyebrows together in confusion, “What do you mean?” I say.

He pause, looking in my eyes. I'm positive that he can't see. I've done too well to hide it. No matter how deep someone looks, they never see it. The Walls are too high, lined with barbed wire.

It's like a prison in there.

“Nothing. I just thought I saw something in your eyes,” he dismisses, much to my relief.

I feel fingers jut into my sides, and I scream bloody-murder. Laughter can be heard from all around me, but I'm just staring at who did this.

Zack is bent over himself, laughing uncontrollably. I glare at him, still panting.

“Don't ever... ever do that again...” I say between breaths.

My statement just makes him laugh twice as hard. My glare deepens, and he looks up at me. Suddenly he stops laughing, to an extent, and looks right back at me, stare unwavering in the radius of my dirty look.

Eventually, I win, and he looks away. I drop my glare when he looks back, and his face softens, “Guess what?” he says, smiling at me.

I raise a brow, crossing my arms over my chest, awaiting an answer, “I like you better when you're not scary,” he states simply.

And then he leaves, with a statement that sounds like something a six year old would say to his pet Boxer.

And I'm thoroughly confused.

“Elina,” Ross calls to me, “Sound check,” But I'm too distracted to play anything amazing, so I just play the beginning to Brahm's 'Lullaby'.

X

Our set is done, and The Maine just went on. I sit in the green room, doing my ritual of eating. I get so nervous before the show, that I don't eat anything all day, or I forget to eat when it's too busy. So after I preform, I'm starving from playing my hardest for about thirty minutes.

It's not that long, I know. But the adrenaline kicks in, and I can't do anything but bounce my legs ferociously during the songs, or maybe jump during a break.

But the beating of my heart is comparable to what a person feels running across the tracks of an oncoming train.

Yeah, you know you'll die, but at least you'll be satisfied knowing you took a chance, right?

I go to our tour bus, and open up the cabinet with the junk food in it. As I look in, I notice the decline in food from yesterday. Huh. I guess Dalton stayed up all night playing video games again.

He tends to do that when we don't have to go to school. And since he graduated last year, I'd hate to see what his room looks like now.

I smile as a random memory of Dalton pops into my head. It was the first time I ever met him.

I was walking down the halls of the high school to get to the gym. I had P.E. Fourth period, and wanted to get there early to change into my uniform in time.

The class that was there before was just let out. It was the boy's class, since our school doesn't do co-ed.
I noticed a group of muscled guys walking behind a boy with black hair and lip piercings. They were laughing, and teasing the boy.

“I don't know why they let faggots like you take gym with the boys,” one commented, obviously the leader of this pack.

“Yeah, gays should take the girl's class, it's not as hard. And you should change with them, too,” another says. They just keep adding to the insults.

They pass me, but I can still hear them, “I don't like the fact that he's always looking at me, checking me out after I get out of the shower,”

And that's when I lost it. I can't believe those guys! Honestly, do they share a brain cell?

I turn around a yell at them, “Hey!” they all turn to me, “Straight guys,” I say as though it were an insult, “Just because a guy likes men, doesn't mean they'd want to touch dumb jocks like you!” I yell at them.

“Oh?” The leader comments, “And who says he doesn't want to touch me?”

“So what if he does?” I ask, looking up and him. He's a good foot taller than me, but I'm not afraid, “You don't get disgusted when girls look at you like you're a piece of meat,” I snarl.

“Little girl, stay out of this one,” he says, “he's a fag,” he says, as if it justifies anything.

“Do you get repulsed when a really ugly chick likes you?” I ask, jutting my hip out and setting my hand on it, “Actually, don't answer that, because, yes. Yes you do. You're just a shallow jock. And when high school is over, you'll be reliving the glory days while you watch TV and your ass gets bigger. Meanwhile, us people at the bottom of the high school food chain will be doing something useful with our lives,” He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off, “Save it. I know why you're getting so defensive about this.” I see fear settling into his eyes, “You're actually gay too,” I smirk when his face loses all color, “And you don't want to accept it because that means you won't live up to your tough football player rep. So instead, you release sexual tension out on him,” I gesture to the boy, “Because you can't stop looking at him when he gets out of the shower,”

No one speaks, so I figure I'm right, “So, did I get in the ball park?” I smirk before turning to the boy and taking his hand.

We are already late to fourth, so I figured I could skip it for a while, “What's your name?” I ask.

He stops and says, “Why did you help me out like that?”

I turn back to him. I sigh, “It really pisses me off when people tease others about things they can't do anything to help. My aunt is a lesbian, also, so I understand,” I smile at him, “Homosexuality isn't just 'I wanna screw someone of my gender'.” I explain, “They love just like straight people do. Gay people have feelings, too,”

He laughs along with me, and finally says his name, “Dalton,” He smiles.

And my third week as a freshman was brightened just by that heart-melting smile.

I smiled at the recollection. Feelings I didn't even know I had reached me. They came from nowhere, and I eventually welcomed them.

I swear, Dalton would be my boyfriend, if he weren't gay. He's so funny and nice and sweet.

But I can't have him.

I guess this is how Dalton feels when he likes a straight guy.

I sigh and head back to the venue. I don't really feel like eating anymore, but if I do get hungry, there's some food back stage, also. Dalton is passed out on the couch in the green room. All Time Low is just getting ready to leave, it's almost time for their set. I sigh again as I look at Dalton. He really is adorable, but I can't have him. I love him, but... it's impossible.

But, if he were straight, he'd probably like Holland or Riley better. Judging by his taste in men, it would probably be Holland.

I get a blanket from a cabinet by the couches, and pull it over Dalton. He stirs slightly.

“Lina...?” he asks groggily.

“Yeah?” I asks, blushing a little when his hot breath hit my face.

“Lay down with me,” he commands, adjusting himself to have enough room for me under the blanket.

I slide under, and cuddle into his chest. The Maine's set just went into the third to last song, and they're going to come back here without a doubt. I hope to be sound asleep by the time that happens.

I try to regulate my breathing and heartbeat, but to no avail. He's so close, yet so far away. I can smell the AXE Dark Temptation on him. I can't breath when he wraps his arms around me, but that's mainly because he's squeezing too tight.

“Dalton...” I croak, “Let go of me,”

“Not until you use my old nickname,” he commands.

I think back. What did I use to call him all the time? Something-bear.

I think, then it comes to me, “Dally-bear,” I wheeze out, and he relaxes his hold on me.

“Lina-bear,” he coos, “I love you so much,” he states.

My heart stops. I almost cry because I know that he doesn't mean it like that.

But I'm good at hiding confusing emotions, “I love you, too, Dally.” I say, wrenching my arm out of the small space and patting his head.

He breaks my heart more than anyone I've ever known.

X

I lay in my bunk, unable to go to face anyone. We have to go to the hotel a few miles from the venue, and right now I just want to be alone.

I could be out playing Call of Duty with Dalton, like I normally do at night. But, now that I've admitted my feelings to myself, I can't stand to look at his smile.

It makes my heart hurt.

I fell in love with a gay man. God really does want to ruin my life. I don't know what I ever did to Aphrodite, but she really has a grudge.

It's safe to say I don't have a definite religion. I believe in an afterlife, I mean, anyone who's ever lost someone understands. There's nothing to do but believe that you'll see them again. If you don't, then you're heartless.

But, that's just my opinion.

And I believe that just because you think you'll see your lost loved ones, doesn't automatically mean your heart isn't cold. And just because you fell in love with someone, that also doesn't mean you're heart isn't as frozen over as icicles.

I mean, just look at me.

Yeah, I believe all that, I fell in love with someone, but my heart is cold. So cold.

I think it's because all of the way all of that happened, I lost someone I loved dearly to suicide, I can't ever have the person I love most, that I'm so cold to everyone.

Don't say that I'm not, because if you've been paying attention, you'd agree. I can't let anyone in. I can't. I show my true self so scarcely, that I've forgotten what I'm really like. I can't remember what I thought was funny, what made me cry, what made me angry.

I can't remember.

The bus comes to a screeching halt, as we pull into a parking space at a hotel.

“Elina!” Ross calls to me from the front of the bus, “Get out here, we need a discussion!”

I sigh and crawl out from under my blanket. I push used tissues off of my chest, shoving them in the corner of my bunk. I had been crying over this. Over a stupid boy.

I guess four years of pent up feelings will do that to you.

I just need to let it go. I should have never let it come in the first place. These kinds of feelings and memories are better left behind The Wall. Trapped where they can never get out. If they're there, I don't have to feel them or deal with them.

I guess when Rian looked into my eyes, he pulled out the feeling without me knowing. That look told it how to escape.

Or I'm just completely crazy.

That seems more logical.

“Alright,” Ross begins when I enter the front of the bus, “I just talked to Flyzik, and he says that we need to cut down to five to a room. I will be going as the extra person in the third crew room,” Ross explains, “You guys will have to decide who has to stay with All Time Low,” he says, walking off the bus and pulling things out of the bottom compartments.

“I will!” Dalton exclaims.

“No,” Calvin rejects, “we don't want a rape case on our hands,”

Dalton pouts, turning away from the group, “Fine, one of you guys can go!”

“Well, RJ can't be away from Calvin, since Calvin has separation anxiety,” Holland states.

“So it's one of you girls,” RJ injects, also turning away. Us girls turn to each other.

“I don't expect you to, Riley. Who knows what kind of touchy-feely crap they'll pull on you,” I say, leaving Holland and me.

“So,” Holland begins.

“You can decide.” I suggest.

“Can you? I mean...” she trails off, not wanting to continue, though I know what she means.

“Okay. You don't like Jack; I understand,”

“Plus,” Dalton pipes, reentering the conversation, “as we said before, we don't want a rape case on our hands,”

“So no one likes me enough to rape me?” I mutter bitterly in my head.

Dalton's face pales, “N-no... I didn't mean it... like that,” he stutters.

I hadn't realized I said that out loud. Though it's true. Everyone probably decided before hand to put me in the room, because I'm too disgusting for anyone to want to touch.

“It's just that... Jack really likes Holland, everyone can see,” Dalton explains.

“It's okay, Dalton,” I assure, “really, I don't know why I said that,” I know why I thought it. Why I said it out loud in front of people is beyond me.

We head into the hotel, and get our room keys. I grab my bags and head to the room I'll be sharing with the members of All Time Low. Saying a quick good-night to my band mates, I unlock the door and open it cautiously.

“Jack!” Zack yelled, “Quit trying to hump me!”

I close my eyes, not wanting to see whatever was going on. Jack is creepy sometimes.

“Hold on men!” I hear Alex's voice, “we are in the presence of a lady, who is currently too afraid of our words to open her eyes,” Alex laughed, “It's okay, we're all mainly clothed,”

I peek my eyes open again. Jack doesn't have any pants on, and Zack is missing a shirt, but other than that, everything is normal. Except Jack is on top of Zack, but...

That's pretty standard for the All Time Low boys.

I sigh and get pajamas from my bag. I head to the bathroom, but I hear the shower running.

“Rian's in there, so if you want to change now, you'll have to change out here,” Jack smirked.

I groan and throw my head back. I just want to sleep. Maybe die, y'know just not wake up in the morning. That would be really nice right now, “When will he be out?”

Alex looks at an imaginary watch, “About an hour,” he laughs, along with the rest of his band.

“Alright, I'm changing in here,” I sigh, exhausted, looking at their surprised and slightly suggestive faces, “But I swear to Allah if you guys peek, I will maim and beat you in your sleep,” I threaten.

“Allah?” Zack questions, completely ignoring my death threat.

“It's the Arabic word for God. It's who Islamic people worship,” I explain, “No, I'm not Muslim,”

I motion for them to turn around and they oblige. I slowly take off my shirt, looking at them the whole time, to make sure they don't turn around. It makes me feel a little creepy not taking my eyes off them while I undress, but it is very necessary.

I'm done, so I lay down in the first bed I see. The other boys decide to turn in, too.

Zack lays beside me in the bed. I blush when he did, I didn't realize that I'd have to share a bed with him.

“I guess Rian will take the roll-away bed,” Zack whispers in my ear, making me shiver slightly.

X

It's three A.M and I can't sleep. I'm sure I'm keeping Zack awake, too, with all my tossing and turning. I sigh, and get up from the bed. I grab my swimsuit and change in the bathroom. My swimsuit is a purple and green polka dot bikini top, and green swim shorts with purple trim. Dalton picked it out for me, and it's the whole reason I decided purple and green were my favorite colors. They go so well together.

I sneak into the pool, it's after closing hours, but if they really cared, they would have bothered to actually lock the gates.

I dive into the water, welcoming the icy sting my it leaves on my skin. It clears my head, which is exactly what I need right now. I need a head that isn't jumbled with thoughts, a head that can actually figure things out for once. I float on the water, looking up at the stars.

For a second, I can actually sort things out. I sort out all my thoughts, and put them in proper files tucked on the outskirts of my brain. I can dwell on those later. Right now, I just need to look up at these stars, and figure out what I'm feeling right now. When I look at the stars... I feel something. Something I've never felt.

“You'll catch a cold,” Someone calls to me from the poolside. I resurface my ears, so they're not drowning in water, and swim over to the voice. It's Zack: he must have followed me out.

I climb up on the ledge and lay back, my legs still in the water, and look up at the stars once more.

“Why'd you come out here?” he asks, and I smile. I know what I'm feeling now.

“I used to swim,” I answer, “Before You First took over my free time. I still swim, just not on a team anymore,” I know my belly button ring is on full display, which I normally hate in the presence of people I hardly know, but I don't care. I know what this feeling is.

I feel free. I feel like myself.