I'm Restless, Obsessed With Your Future

Dessa feels trapped. Not figuratively, but literally. Everywhere she turns, there’s a high school freshman girl. She sees things like this as hope for her future: if she’s made this much of an improvement from her first year of high school to her first year of college, just imagine how great life will be by the time she’s twenty-five. She’s more than thankful to see these girls. But she’s not thankful for how many of them there are. They’re screaming. Shoving. Calling each other names. The band isn’t even on stage yet. “Morgan, why are we here again?” Dessa asks.

“Oh shut up,” Morgan responds. “I know the merch guy.” Morgan continues to push herself through the crowd in order to get to the front of the line. Girls are yelling at her. “Get in line, bitch!” Morgan’s never been one to care. She sticks her middle finger in the air with no hesitation. Dessa and Riley look at each other and laugh. Typical Morgan. They follow her, getting yells from more girls.

Dessa can’t help but be upset. This night is already unimpressive. “Is it bad that I already hate this?” she asks Riley as they continue to make their way to the merchandise.

“No, because I do too,” assures Riley. “I swear I feel like I'm in middle school again without the pre-puberty boys.”

“Well, they look like they're at least fifteen.”

“True, but they don't have the maturity of a fifteen-year-old.”

“Fifteen-year-olds aren't even that mature.”

“Exactly.”

Dessa pauses, thinking about this, then nods. “Point taken.”

“VINNY!” Morgan yells as the girls reach the table. A man wearing a flat-bill Yankees hat turns around, then looks at Morgan. He smiles and waves at her, picking up a t-shirt from a box. He walks to a girl at the table and exchanged the t-shirt for $30. Then he walks over.

“Morgan!” Morgan and Vinny reach over the table to hug, and he asks, “What's up?”

“Nothing really,” she says as they let go of the embrace. “Just college.”

“Oh yeah, little smarty goes to NYU.” He begins to look around. “Where are your friends?”

“Right behind me." Morgan points to Dessa and Riley.

“Oh,” Vinny smiles again, holding his hand out to be shaken. “Hey girls, I'm Vinny.”

“Hi, I'm Dessa.” The two shake hands.

Riley reaches for his hand as well. “Riley, nice to meet you.”

“Are you guys coming to the after party?” asks Vinny.

“Yeah, is that okay?” Morgan questions.

“Oh yeah, that's totally fine.” Vinny puts one finger up to imply that he needs a minute. He walks to the table by the t-shirt-covered wall behind him and grabs three envelopes. He walks back to them and hands the envelopes to Morgan. “Now, not many people are invited since it's supposed to be small. No +1s. It's basically a house party since Alex's neighbors don't mind and it’s just less expensive than renting out some club here.”

“Who's Alex?” asks Dessa.

Vinny laughs a little. “He's the lead singer.”

“Oh.” She hates feeling stupid. She chuckles to herself to make it seem okay. “Awkward.”

“It's all good. Honestly, they'll like you more than if you were some crazy obsessed fan.”

Riley smirks. “You mean like everyone here?”

“Basically,” Vinny says with a smile. He begins to look over them. “Though I do see a few guys who look your age over by the bar. And I think they're straight."

Riley, Morgan, and Dessa all look at each other with sneaky grins. Since Dessa’s breakup with Ty, all of them are single, and since Dessa is still not completely over everything, she’d make a good wingman for the evening and she wouldn’t even mind. Perhaps they would have some success. Riley is the tallest of all of them, so she stands on her tip-toes and glances over to the bar.

Her eyes grow wide, and she immediately gets back on her feet and says, "It's Ty." She looks at Dessa, who slumps like she’s been punched in the stomach.

Vinny looks surprised. "You know them?"

“Yeah, and it's my fucking ex-boyfriend,” says Dessa. “So he's actually here. That's...” She looks toward the bar and tries to find him. “Great...”

“Hey, fuck him! You're partying with All Time Low tonight!”

She shrugs and tries to force a laugh, since this is the third time today that someone has said something to the effect of, “Fuck your ex!” Sure, she’s partying with All Time Low. That doesn’t mean much though. She doesn’t even know who they are. Well, she knows who they are but she hasn’t listened to them. Her fifteen-year-old sister must listen to them or something. She would probably fit right in here, Dessa realizes.

The lights turn out, and the venue fills with screams that are much too high a pitch for Dessa’s liking. She frowns at the idea of being at a concert. For some band she doesn’t know. With her ex-boyfriend by the bar.

Vinny claps his hands as the teenage girls run to the floor to watch their favorite band. He looks at Dessa, Riley, and Morgan. “Have fun tonight, ladies!”


“She’s blonde. You like blondes.”

“And she has a nice rack.”

“And you liked her at one point, so why wouldn’t you like her again?”

Jack can’t even figure out who’s talking, even though he really doesn’t care. It’s all the same. “Get back with Danielle because she’s hot, and you could use the sex.” Well sure, everybody could use the sex. It’s not like he can’t get it elsewhere, though. He’s not really that worried about it anyway. Maybe they could just be friends with benefits. No, he thinks, that’s not logical. He never could really appreciate the idea of friends with benefits because the girl never stays emotionally sane. And Danielle is definitely not an exception. She isn’t emotionally sane to begin with. Besides, part of being friends with benefits is being friends, and he doesn’t want to be friends with her. Anyone but her, maybe. But it’s her.

He sighs. “Maybe because she’s a crazy bitch.”

“So what?” Jack can tell that it’s Alex talking because he’s up in his face. “Need I remind you that crazy bitches are awesome in bed?”

“Look, I’m fine with fucking someone that isn’t her, and it’s not like I’ve struggled with finding someone else before.” He hates when he says things like that. He sounds conceited and self-centered. But it’s true. Once his band got signed, girls were literally on his dick nonstop, and it’s only fair to take notice. “Get out of my face.”

Alex laughs and backs up, looking to his side. His eyes land on the clock. “Well, fuck, we have about seven minutes until the lights go out.” The guys all smile a little. It’s time for the pre-show ritual.

Zack reaches for the bottle of Jack Daniel’s while Jack stands up to grab the shot glasses. Usually, the four men will chug a beer before going on stage, but everyone can tell Jack is pissed. Surely drinking something with his name on it will help. It does sometimes, weirdly enough, even though Jack can’t explain why. It probably isn’t going to work tonight, but he might as well try. The glasses are lined up on a table, and Rian takes the whiskey and pours almost perfectly equal amounts into each little cup. Once this is done, they each grab a glass and hold it up for a toast. “To selling out New York City!” says Rian.

“And getting laid after the show!” Alex exclaims.

Zack scoffs. “Good luck with that, dude.”

“Hey, shut the fuck up. Aside from Jack-”

“Alex, you’re such a shit,” Jack interrupts. Everyone laughs. “To the fucking band.”

They all raise their glasses. “To the fucking band!” They put the glasses to their mouths and take the shot. It tastes awful, but it does its job.

A woman with a headset barges through the door. “Five minutes, boys!” They all know what that means. They put the shot glasses down and walk to the door, Rian and Zack walking a little bit in front of Jack and Alex.

Alex puts his arm around Jack. “Is she seriously that bad?”

“Alex, I don’t want to talk about this right now. We have a show.”

“So let your feelings out.” He walks in front of Jack and turns around to face him. He then stops, causing Jack to stop as well. “Talk to me, bro.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “We have a show.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Get out of the way.”

“Why don’t you like Danielle?”

There are many reasons as to why Jack doesn’t like Danielle. He doesn’t like the face she makes when she tastes or smells something funny. He doesn’t like a lot of her expressions, actually. Her laugh is annoying. She puts on too much perfume sometimes. Her roots show sometimes and clearly reveal that she is a natural brunette, though she will swear that she’s been blonde her whole life. She’s just fake. A fake bitch.

There’s his answer. “She’s a fake bitch,” he says.

Alex throws his head back in laughter. “She’s a fake bitch!” he says mockingly. “She’s the hottest fake bitch I’ve ever seen, and she’s going to be there tonight so you better tap that ass.”

What?

“You invited her?!”

“Sure, why not?” Alex shrugs, beginning to walk backwards. “It’s my house, my party, my guests. You can use the bedroom if you’d like.”

Jack shakes his head as he follows his friend. “I fucking hate you.”

“Yeah, talk to me after you and Danielle fuck tonight.” He turns around and runs up the stairs to the stage.