All for You

I scrolled through my Twitter feed, thinking of nothing but the words floating off the iPhone screen at me. I basically had the bus to myself, with the exception of Alex talking on the phone in the front lounge. It was only nine in the morning, and the band had already gone their separate ways, and I couldn't help feeling like it was my fault.

I tore everything apart, leaving nothing but myself at gain. I was a terrible person, and I knew it. Now I just had to accept it, and get the guts to leave everyone in peace. Maybe I'd pull a “remembering sunday” and just run away because I was scared. Oddly, that felt good.

Suddenly, I was sick of Twitter. I closed the app on my phone and shoved it into my bag, chewing my lip and standing slowly, knowing what I wanted to do. I gently cracked the door to the front lounge open, revealing Alex pacing the room. He saw me and gave a small smile before looking back down. Of the entire band, he was the only one who still talked to me and still seemed to care. He obviously didn't notice that Andy and I weren't speaking, or that Jack was too busy grinding on sluts to talk to me, or even that Evan - my best friend - was casually avoiding my eye as I walked around the venues, tears flowing over my cheeks as I drank my worries away in Bacardi and whatever else I could get my hands on. As my twin, Alex was always there for me.

Or until he found out that I made out with Jack; then I'd be truly alone again.

“Look, Lis, I'll talk to you later.” Alex hung up the phone, rubbing his face and then smiling at me. “Hey, Aria. I haven't talked to you in awhile - what's up?” Alex asked, gently touching my shoulder. It was like he knew something was bothering me. But he was my brother, I'd never tell him. I gave my best fake smile, showing all my pearly white teeth, and tugged down on my shorts, chewing my lip darkly.

“Alex, I want to get a tattoo,” I blurted, and he looked surprised, his caramel eyes melting slightly. Out of the two of us, I was the one who was deathly afraid of needles and had a low tolerance for pain. But this was about living life without regrets, and this was the way to start. “Will you come with me?” I asked, and Alex smiled, gently bending low so I could clamber on his back, our age-old ritual. I'd take that as a yes.

---

I laughed as Alex gave my hand another squeeze. We had been catching up as I looked the opposite way of the man holding the huge needle. I was proud. The tattoo was half done, and there were no tears. It hurt, but not as much as I thought it would. “Look, Aria, I want you to do something for me, okay?” Alex said, moving his free hand to stroke the skeleton on his foreman, smiling at me with that dazzling smile the girls at home would fall all over. “Please tell Lisa to stop calling me,” He said, unable to stop smiling as I chuckled, trying not to move too much. The man giving me my tattoo scared the crap out of me, being about three hundred pounds with a huge mustache; which made me even more glad that I brought Alex.

“I don't get your relationship at all, Al. You two either hate each other or want to have each other's babies,” I said, and Alex shook his head, biting his lip. “I never liked her, and I'm pretty sure she hates Andy because of the trouble she got in back home.” I bit my lip myself, one of those weird things both of us did at almost the same time. “Bitch,” I muttered, and Alex laughed.

“You're done, hon,” The guy said, and I looked over to look at the plastic looking ink inside my skin. I had gotten the words 'waiting for proof that there's sunsets and silhouette dreams' across my left bicep, in two equal lines. It was small, but the font was big enough to read, and it was perfect. It was what I wanted, and though it was Mayday Parade lyrics, it was still perfect. I smiled brightly, staring at it as me and Alex walked to the front.

“Congrats, little sister,” Alex said quietly, gently touching it before handing me my Arizona tea and an Advil. “And things are going to be okay, as long as you let things fall into place on their own,” He added, gently tapping my nose as he paid for my tattoo, his last act of sincerity before he found out, that I was sure of. He would want to kill me once someone decided to really mess with me, and tell him. And I was terrified.

Still, there was something about feeling that ink in my skin that reminded me that even if there was no gorgeous sunsets with friends and loved ones, and dreams that I could reach out and touch; catch them in my hand; I would still be able to make it through.

It didn't matter if I was on tour or if I was pushing myself through college courses back at home. It didn't matter if Andy never spoke to me again, or if Jack got one of his sluts pregnant because I was supposedly flirting with Flyzik, and most importantly, it didn't matter who I was dating, or who my friends were, or any of that stupid shit. I was happy, and that was all that mattered.

I got Alex to take a picture of my new tattoo, and we drove back to venue, a little late, I might add. I updated my Twitter, deciding the world might as well know that I'm officially “badass”.