Forget About It

Fucking bullshit.

I took another drag of my Marlboro cigarette. Letting the rough smoke fill my lungs before I pushed the air back out. The settling feeling spreading through my body for a mere few seconds.

Has it been a wise decision to even come? To even take up the trip to america? To visit friends? To visit the old house? To live up the memories again? To remind myself even more of my brother? To re-take the freaking trip? This entire day felt so wrong.

Something really annoying about this day? Getting stuck outside a venue.

Why? The venue locks doors as soon as everyone’s in.

So I’m stranded: outside the fucking concert.

What I do?

Find Starbucks and try calming my nerves. I swear if he were here right now, this would have never fucking happened. I would have never panicked.

Something else that's really annoying? I got no money on me.

So now, I am stuck outside a Starbucks: no money and three cigarettes left.

Oh and the best part of this fucked up story? The band called All Time Low, the band I actually worship, just happens to currently sit in the café.

So basically, I feel like some obsessed person, stalking an entire fucking band. I pulled my legs up to my chest and sighed. This shouldn't happen to me. Not on this day.

The shop door opened and someone sat down on the bench right next to me. There was clearly another bench over, so I bothered to look at them.

“Hi,” said All Time Low's lead guitarist, Jack Barakat.

I almost choked, but covered it with an embarrassing cough and raised my eyebrows. I know I was being rude, but this is Jack Barakat, I sort of don’t know what to say.

“Can I help you?” Raking my head was really not a smart idea.

“Actually I was wondering if you are okay, I mean this is your second cigarette in the past thirty minutes and you haven’t even ordered anything from Starbucks or called anyone and no one came by to meet you although you look like you were on the way somewhere and now I’m rambling…”

“I’m fine.” I lied right into his face.

“I don’t believe that,” he smiled.

I smiled back: “I’m glad you became a musician and didn’t major in psychology.”

“That’s a compliment, right?”

I finished the cigarette and snipped it away, then nodded.

“So why are you out here by yourself?” He attempted again.

“Long story,” I replied, not wanting to share my lame-ass life story with a hero and still a stranger.

“I have another three and a half hours until show time,” I glanced at him, “Oh come on – tell me. I’m a great listener.”

“You don’t even know me,” I raised my eyebrows.

“But you know me,” he winked.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. I left him sitting on that bench we shared for our small talk.

Kasey: 1 Jack: 0

Okay, I should have definitely asked him to get me back into the concert, but I couldn't. I was mad, at Jack Barakat, at the stupid security guard, at myself for panicking, at my friends for not realizing where I am and at my brother.

I began wondering around Cleveland. I really didn’t need to waste my time with some Rockstar. Stuck up or not. My idol or not. I mean of course he is a huge idol and his entire band are like angels send from above, but in the end, All Time Low was nothing more than a band I listened a lot to.

Like Blink or 30 Seconds To Mars; I don’t want to fuck Travers or Jared Leto. Okay I do, but that isn’t going to happen, any time soon.

Stalking through the city, I was searching for somewhere quiet to chill at and think about today. It had been a long day, a day I was looking forward too and a day I'd never forget. Nothing was calling perfect, but the fountain would be good enough. I checked my phone for any hint of an update from my friends, but just as I thought, they had no idea I left almost an hour ago.

A few times I considered walking back to the venue, trying to get in again, but the bodyguard made it very fucking clear that he wouldn’t let me, the little brat back in. Fucker.

I closed my eyes, letting the sun heat up my skin even more. Maybe even tan.

“Don’t wait up!” I heard someone shout and then seconds later a body was sitting against the wall next to me, “Hi!”

I wanted so bad to act like I was asleep, but his obnoxious loudness didn’t help me keep a straight face, “You again.”

“Surprised?”

I looked over at him and put on a fake-thinking face, “No.”

“I like you,” he nudged me.

I raised my eyebrows, “You don’t even know me.”

“It’s the fun part though!”

I laid my head back to rest it against the wall and sighed. I was some regular girl who was pretty much begged by Jack Barakat to… to what exactly?

“What do you want?” I regretted asking as soon as I opened my mouth. I really needed to shut up more.

Jack seemed to get excited: “Well I can take you out to Starbucks and you can tell me why you aren’t okay –“

“I’m fine.”

“- and then we could go to my concert or,” he dragged the ‘o’, “we could go out to eat and you could tell me and then we’ll go to my concert or we’ll just go to the venue, talk there and then you’ll stay for the concert.”

“Why do all of them involve talking about me?”

“Well let’s say we catch up on our lives.”

“That sounds like I’ve known you longer than five minutes.”

“Actually it’s been seventeen minutes.”

“It doesn’t matter; you can’t say catch up if we haven’t known each other for very long.”

“Who said that?”

“I don’t know, it is just that way.”

“Did you read it anywhere?”

“No.”

“Well then you can’t prove it, so I can say it.”

“Can not.”

“Can, too.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

I laughed: “This is pointless.”

“This is pointless,” Jack mimicked me.

“Stop.”

“Stop.”

“Stop.”

“Are you mimicking me back?”

“Are you mimicking me back?”

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“Will you go on a date with me?” Wait, what?

“Yes.” Jack smiled, took my hand and pulled me along, “I knew you’d ask me.”

“That was betrayal and it so does not count.”

“Yes it so does.”

Kasey: 1 Jack: 1