Innocent Cheater

I handed the sick boy another tissue as blew his nose.

“I feel bad; I couldn’t arrange another ride for you. Stupid flu.” He said and as if on cue he sneezed.

“Are you sure you want me to leave, I can skip it really. Concerts are no fun without a friend.” I informed my boyfriend, Jake, as I sat on the bed in his room. Just seeing his sick pale skin, red nose, and droopy eyes caused me to feel neglect if I was to leave his side. The one thing that didn’t seem indifferent about him was his usual messy black hair and sense of humor.

“How could I ever deny the opportunity of you, Vanessa, seeing Justin Bieber, in concert. I think that’s a sin somewhere.” He commented as I laughed.

“I think it’s a sin to leave a sick boyfriend at home while you scream for another guy.” I laughed and he smiled cheekily.

“Seriously, go. You’re all dressed up, and you’ve been waiting for months. Anyway, the second you leave I can start watching all those action movies you hate.” He said sneezing slightly afterwards.

“Thanks babe.” I smiled leaning over and giving him a kiss on the head. After saying our farewells I walked outside holding up my umbrella as a light drizzle of rain fell on the ground. I walked down the block and finally made it to the bus station. I hopped on and made myself as comfortable as I could on the LA city bus. I would be on here about fifteen minutes then walk about a block to see the concert.

This was supposed to be what Jake called the perfect date. We would go to see the Justin Bieber concert, eat at one of his favorite restaurants, and then come home. But Jake got sick, and it threw off the entire day off.

I grabbed a pen out my purse and began to draw on my hand out of boredom. I started sketching some flowers, mostly inspired by the rain. I knew that even after all the harsh weather the end result was beautiful, like a flower.

I was an artist. I was always sketching on the sides of my notebook, doodling on my hand, or writing on spare napkins. So of course I had at least six different pens and sharpies thrown in my bag.

The bus finally lurched forward leaving me at the corner. After walking for about five minutes I reached the convert hall, which had a long line snaked down the block. Girls were screaming and holding up posters, while some had started their own sing-a-long for all of Justin’s hits. No matter the rain, the spirits were high.

I wasn’t so much of a Belieber fan. I didn’t watch his every interview, know all his facts, and know all his friends. But I did appreciate the fact that he had talent, there was no denial. Jake had picked up these tickets last minute, hearing that it was romantic. We often went to concerts of different genres together, just to expierence something new.

The wind picked up blowing a few posters and belongings. I felt something wet hit my foot, and I looked down. I picked up the soggy paper in confusion and my eyes widened.

It was a backstage pass, with closer seats. My current seat location was up in the balcony and near the back exit; my ticket had only cost $30. Looking at I turned around to see if anybody was looking for it.

“All backstage buyers toward the front!” a voice called out.

I looked around, hesitated, but stepped out my place in line. Walking with a group of other girls, I handed the pass to the vendor. I waited for something to go off, a fraud beep, or the real owner to jump forward and claim the pass. But nothing happened, he simply handed it back to me and ushered me forward.

There were about fifteen girls in the small waiting room. Some on the verge of tears, others hyperventilating. I realized that all the girls had cameras out, and a gift to give the teen. I reached into my purse realizing that I had nothing for him to sign with.

I pulled out a black sharpie the same second Justin walked into the room. Girls began to scream and a few I love you’s were heard throughout the room.

The girls rushed forward to meet him all taking pictures and asking for hugs. Different girl’s names rolled off his tongue in greetings. I stepped forward so he could finally get to me.

“Hi I’m Vanessa, can you sign my shirt?” I asked with a smile.

“Yeah, sure. Nice to meet you Vanessa.” He said signing my shirt.

I turned back around as he handed the pen back to me, but grabbed my hand.

“Whoa, what’s this? Is it a tattoo or did you draw it.” He asked flipping my hand around.

“It’s just some flowers I drew on the bus.” I said shyly blushing at the contact.

“Oh, it’s cool, Vanessa.” He said with a hair flip and smile.

I knew that my face was red, but I couldn’t help it. Then his eyes drifted away from mine and landed on the next girl who eagerly asked him to marry her. And just like that his smile lit up and he talked to the other girl. All in all, I guess out little conversation hadn’t meant much to him, but a lot more to me.

He soon signed everything he could and after a lot of smiles he walked out the room with a hair flip.



The concert was…different. Not that it had a certain wow factor; it just wasn’t the kind of concert I was used too. This by far had to be the first concert I had gone to in a while that didn’t involve lyrics that had to do with sex, and no curse words were spoken.

At times it felt awkward since I was now in the fifth row. These were where the die-hard fans were located, balling their eyes out if he even pointed in their general direction. There was a vast range of ages at the concert, from twenty to five. The whole concert the seven year old next to me had been jumping up and down on her seat and occasionally letting a few tears drop from her eyes.

I didn’t know all the songs by heart, but had enjoyed jumping up and down like the other girls around me (maybe a little less enthusiastically). But now it was about ten o’ clock and I was walking to the nearest place for food.

It's funny how I didn't realize that a simple trip to McDonalds would set off a chain reaction of events.