Skinny Jeans

I handed Garrett the last box of merch for him to haul inside. It was an hour and a half before showtime, and I had to have their station set up.
"Hustle for them tips, sweet thang." John laughed, flashing that crooked smile before running into the venue for sound check, Garrett close at his heels.
I hauled everything in, and got my station set up in 30 minutes.
"Sweet." I said to myself, smiling and kicking back and leaning my feet on another chair next to me.
The boys started sound check and I flocked to the front of the stage with everyone else in the venue setting up before they let the kids in. My tall, skinny boyfriend stood on stage, smiling at me as he sang out the words with so much passion, I could feel it from head to toe.

As the kids flooded into the venue, I stood at the merch table, helping the ones who had already made it to my station. As I was leaning over the table to hand a girl her shirt, I felt hands on my waist. I jumped and turned around to see John's grinning face.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, as about 30 more kids ran up to the table, all hoping to catch a glimpse of John.
"Thought I would sign some stuff, help you out. Your first day on the job can't be easy." he laughed as I tried my best to hear a girls shirt size over the other bunch screaming John's name.
"You have to learn how to read lips or something." he laughed in my ear, grabbing a ticket stub some girl shoved over the counter for him to sign.
"Or, you could just go away and make my life a little easier." I said.
"Oh so you want me to go away, huh?" he asked, his lips curling into a grin.
I grabbed the money a girl was handing over to me and nodded my head.
"I'll be outside tonight guys! Tip the merch girl!" John yelled to the crowd.
He flashed me another smile, and walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, as John and I packed the merch boxes away, Garrett, Pat, Jared, and Kennedy all hung around outside in the front, signing autographs and taking pictures to keep the fans away from the bus while we loaded.
"You told them you'd be outside." I raised an eyebrow at him as he handed me a box.
"They know I'm always the last one out. I'll be there." he said, his grainy voice cracking.
"It was a good day." I said, changing the subject.
"Yeah it was. How much did you make in tips?" he asked, handing me the last box.
"Well, come inside and sit with me for a minute. I want a beer anyways. We can count it." I smiled, holding out my hand.
He grabbed it and we walked into the bus, sitting down in the lounge area. I pulled out two beers from the fridge, cracked them open, and sat down next to him. I pulled the cash out of my pocket.
"Wow." his eyes got wide.
"Hmm?" I asked, setting it down on the table.
"Big wad of cash." he laughed, flipping though it.
"Mostly ones." I smiled, letting him count it.
When he was finished, he stacked it up and set it down.
"Not bad. You're about 240 bucks richer!" he smiled.
We sat there for a few minutes, gulping down our beers.
"I'm scared of getting older." he finally broke the silence.
"I am too." I looked down at my hands.
"I guess this is growing up." he laughed a little.
"Go out and meet the fans. I'll hang in here until you guys get done." I smiled at him.
The air was full of awkward, and I had no idea why. I had a bad feeling about something.