Twitter and Glitter.

I walked into the small, warm coffee shop. The smell of coffee wafted the air, and I felt at home. The glitter of the performance I did earlier still adorned my face, and I could smell the hairspray in my hair. All little reminders of what I've seen and done in the past 10 hours of finals. The line was nothing and there was hardly anyone in the shop. 

I ordered, and waited patiently for my coffee. The employees giving me looks, probably from the leftover glitter. This is LA right, shouldn't they be used to odd people?

Well I'm not that odd, as much of a normal person can be while in band.  I'm a senior in high school 17 years old, guard captain I have a life going for me. 

"Lynnaé?" I grabbed the warm cup and headed for a booth. 

I wasn't alone, I was here in LA with my marching band but my group of friends, including my best friend, decided to go somewhere else for the last hour here in this big city. Me; well a coffee shop is enough of an adventure after everything that happened this weekend. 

I pulled out my white iPhone 4 from my pea coat pocket. I logged onto to twitter. I smiled at some of excited tweets from my friends about making finals, but none yet from what we just  placed. 

I'll be the first. 

@LastYearsNews 
"Great run guys! Well get em next year" 

Then realizing I don't have a next year. I felt myself slump in my seat, absentmindedly drinking the hot coffee mix. My phone sitting on the table in front of me, the screen still bright. It made a ding noise signaling a new tweet was posted. I scrolled up to see who was posting. 

@AlexAllTimeLow
In LA, let's get Dirty. 

Well at least he's having fun. I thought. I locked my phone and put it back into my pocket. 

I heard the door open, just another person trying to get away from the November air. I keep staring at the cream colored wall in front of me sipping my coffee. 

Everything about today replaying in my head. The toss, the leaps, the emotions, the intimacy... Yes intimacy. The show was a Romeo and Juliet themed. I had to have an little affair with a drummer which was forbidden for guard  girls. So yeah intimacy. 

The opener, movement 1, the ballad, movement 2, and the closer played over and over and over again in my head. Trying to see what made us lose by only a tenth of a point. Over analyzing it, I find myself with a slight headache. I groan softly, and rub my temples, trying to make my head relax. 

"Is this seat taken?" I hear a voice I'd recognize anywhere, because of the brain rotting videos from YouTube. 

I look up to the brown eyes, brown hair capped with a grey beanie. 

Or Alex Gaskarth if you prefer. 

I stammer. 

"Uh- I Uh, no it's not, go ahead." I finally put out. He smiles and takes the seat across from me with his own hot coffee. I attempt to smile back, but stop once I feel my self freaking out, I discreetly calm my self down and breathe normally. "I'm Alex," 

No shit Sherlock. 

"Lynnaè," I say quietly. 

"Is that like French?" He says making conversation, obviously taking an interest with me and my odd name. 

"I think so," I make my 'face of questions'. "Sure if that makes life easier." I grin. This comment sends him laughing a little bit. 

It was weird though sitting here with The Alex Gaskarth drinking coffee like two normal people and all their normalcy. But he wasn't normal, but I wouldn't doubt that sometimes he wished he was. To get away from all the screaming fans, and gossip about his love life, and the true story behind the song Lullabies. He looked a little tired to me, (which explains the coffee) his features a little worn, and the new tattoo that adorned his left hand intrigued me, it was so simple yet it meant the world to him. He was in  need of a shave but who was I to judge? I myself was just a young kid, and not to mention a fan.  The last thing he needed was another person telling him how to look and act. I figured he just wanted to be treated like a normal person, not a rockstar. And I planned on doing so. 

"What's up with glitter?" He breaks the silence caused by my over analyzing tendencies. 

"Funny story," I smirk "I'm in marching band, color guard to be exact and glitter is mandatory, and I haven't had time to wash it out." 

"How old are you exactly?" He makes an awesome freaked out face. I giggled. 

"17, I'll be 18 in January if that makes you feel any better," I confess, smiling. 
 
His face almost immediately relaxes once he hears eighteen. 

"Phew, had me worried there, I would've got shit if people found out I was hitting on some fifteen year old," He sighs, taking a long drink from his coffee. 

"Uh what kind of people do out hang out with exactly?" I ask acting like a 'normal' person. 

"Weird people, trust me." He laughs "Nah, my buddies like to give me a hard time, that's all." He certainly knows how to play off being normal. "You don't look seventeen, almost nineteen," 

"There's a difference?" 

"For some people, I look so much different than I did when I was nineteen, and definite far cry from seventeen, I'm more manly like I guess." He chuckles "But for girls it could be different, I never did good in biology." 

"How old are you?" it was my turn to make a creeped out face. Even though I knew he was twenty three turning twenty four in less than a month. 

"Twenty three," He starts "Twenty four next month." 

"Oh, you look you're age or around there," I smirk. 

"Was that an insult?!" He laughs. 

"Depends! Are you going to take it as one?!" I fire back, laughing myself. 

"I like you, you're clever." He sits back from his position of elbows on the table. Mocking me who had been sitting against the booth, more like being swallowed, my small frame took up only so much space. My jacket making me  look smaller probably vulnerable. 

"Good to know," I take my iPhone checking the time. It was a good 25 minuets away from my call time. 

"Got a place to be?" He asks noticing my face. 

"Yeah an extremely loud bus filled a bunch of immature band kids for the next seven and a half hours." I groan. 

"Sounds harsh, wait!" I quirk an eyebrow at him "It's almost seven right now you won't be home till almost two in the morning." 

"Now you see my pain," I say meekly. 

"Don't you have school?" 

I scoff "As if I'm going, I really don't think anyone is, not even our band director." I sigh out and drink the last gulp of Luke warm caramel flavored over caffeinated and over sugared coffee. "It's been a long weekend, thats for sure"

"How long do you have till you have to be back at your bus? I wanna hear about you're adventurous weekend," He asks sounding, sincerely curious. 

"20 minuets or so..." I trail off. 

So I told him about my weekend, about how I had to be at my high school at three o'clock in the morning saturday in order to be here by 10:30 and ready for warm up and pre-luminary performance at noon. I told him that my band was small, of only 52 kids, 8 of them was my guard. I told him the theme the show this year, and how I had to act like I was in love with this kid I'd rather have play on the freeway. He laughed at that and said something about the simplicity and difficultly of high school and there's always that blurred line between the two. His words intrigued me, because that was so true, high school was either easy and simple with no drama, or … it was difficult to the point were suicide was questioned.

Not on my part, people I know ahemmybestfriendahem. 

"I've been replaying it in my head; what could've possibly went wrong? We placed 2nd by a tenth of a point, it was pretty depressing actually." I finished "I tend to over analyze ever thing, usually finding my solution but this time I'm stumped." He gives me a sympathetic face, and shrugs. 

"I've experienced some pretty intense weekends before, but damn, nothing close to that insanity!" He gives me a golf clap "Not even when I was seventeen, and I was pretty insane as a teenager, I still am actually." He chuckles. 

I was just about to ask a question about his lifestyle when I heard the door open and five loud voices. 

"Lynny! Let's go! Jeez I leave you alone for an hour and…" I cut my best friend off. Garrett, my best guy friend, gives me a pained look and shakes his head at Spyncer. 

"Spyncer, shut the fuck up, you have no room to talk." I I practically spit out, sitting up straight "I'll be back at the bus in like two minuets." 

Shocked of my out burst, Spyncer simply nods and grabs her boyfriends hand and walked out with the group.

"Charming?" Alex pipes up "You two really love each other?" 

"Oh yeah! It's just sometimes I have to put her in her place, she likes to boss me around, and that doesn't  exactly fly with me." I explain "Anyway I should get going, or they might leave without me." I say getting up from my seat grabbing my empty coffee cup. 

Alex grabs me by my wrist. 

"Wait, can I have your number? Ya know to continue our conversations?" He asked quite shyly. 

"Uh sure," He handed me his own iPhone and I handed mine to him. I quickly typed my number and took a quick picture making sure my glitter was showing. "So you don't forget what started our conversation," I said pointedly. 

"Hmm well my picture is kinda lame in all of it's lack of glitter," he pretends to pout. I simply laugh and put my phone back into my pocket. He stood with me, and walked out with me throwing our empty cups away. 

"I'll be in touch," He says, now standing up he had a good six, seven inches on me. I craned my head and nodded. 

"Text me anytime, I guess… I want to hear about whatever adventurous weekends you have." I grin, knowing exactly what he does on most of his weekends. 

He chuckles, an engulfs me in a huge bear hug. I was not expecting that, however I do hug him back. 

"I'll see you around Lynnaè," Whispers into my left ear, the side of my head where all the glitter was. 

He breaks from the embrace, and some of my glitter adorned his right cheek. 

"You got some glitter," I giggle pointing to his cheek, he makes no move to wipe it off. "I guess I'll see you later?" He simply nods at my words. 

The twenty three year old man that I've idolized since "The Party Scene" days, turns and puts his hands in his jean pockets and walks away from me. I turn the opposite way and mimic his actions, except I put my hands into my pea coat pockets. I head for the single storer bus, thats just merely two blocks away. When it comes into site, the windows are illuminated and everyone is either running up and down the middle aisle or their heads are rested on the windows. I take a deep breath and head into the depths of, too many dick jokes, too much cussing, too much making-out, and the too loud voices of the marching band. Believe it or not there was all of that happening… all at once. 

I find my seat, the one on the way up here, a window seat next to Garrett. The one guy who kept me from going absolutely insane this year. 

Not my boyfriend, but the next best thing: A best guy friend. He also kept from chucking a piece of equipment at either Spyncer, or her boyfriend, or both. 

"What took so long?" He asks when I climb over him and plop into my seat. Completely exhausted. 

"You saw I had a little run-in with Alex Gaskarth," I say likes its the most obvious thing in the world. 

"That's who that was?!" 

"Garrett, you're retarded." I shake my head at him. 

I leaned back into my seat and for the first time in what felt like days I relaxed. The season was officially over. 

A light bulb went off in my head just as I felt my eyes close. 

I pulled my phone from my pocket once again and went on to Twitter.  

I know exactly what I'm going to do.

@LastYearsNews
It was nice having coffee with you @AlexAllTimeLow.

Alex's POV 

I go through the replies I had, one catching my eye, and making my eye brow lift. 

@LastYearsNews
It was nice having coffee with you @AlexAllTimeLow.

Under it, it said it was posted sixteen minuets earlier. 

But she was so calm, so down to earth. Holy shit I gave a fan my cell phone number! Oh god what if she turns out to be like that other girl who stalked me. 

Oh fuck. 

But she was so, there. I thought she was just another person you see at a coffeeshop. A normal person, and that's what she treated me like. 

I was Alex, a normal dude. 

Not the rockstar. 

I've forgotten what it felt like to be average. And I had a little taste if it for the small span of half an hour.

She was different from all the others, and one day I'm going to really need to thank her, but for now.…

@LastYearsNews thank you for the glitter, coffee, and one hell of a story sweetheart. 
Love,
Alexander William Gaskarth