Like a Crash the Whole Thing Spun Out of Control

By the time I woke up the next morning, I could already hear kids swarming throughout the venue beyond the backstage fence and the sound of loud music coming from several different directions which meant that the grounds were open and Warped Tour was a-go.

I lay silently for a moment, just waiting for my mind and body to wake up too before I listened out for any other noises in the bus. There was nothing coming from around me or the back lounge, the only sound coming from where someone was mixing a cup of coffee and watching the tv in the front lounge.

“Morning,” Garrett smiled, he nodded at me as I slid into the booth beside him. “You slept a shit load.”

“What time is it?” I hated waking up, it was the shittest part of my day by far. With a small sigh, I gently set my face down against the cool table top.

“Just past one,” he replied.

“What?”

“Just past one,” he repeated.

“Holy shit,” I exclaimed, jumping up and heading back to Johns bunk to gather up my things. I sent a dirty look towards Garrett’s general direction when I picked up my scuffed heels. “I have soundcheck at quarter to two!” Garrett shrugged and kept stirring his coffee as I rushed around picking up my things and headed towards the door. “I’ll catch you later. Thanks for letting me stay.”

“Like we could have stopped you,” I heard him scoff as the door swung shut behind me, to which I rolled my eyes.

The walk from The Maine’s bus to Flight for Earths was fairly short and already I was dreading going in. From two buses away I could hear Caillen already losing his head over something stupid and I could hear Angus shouting back just as loud.

“Seriously Caillen, I’m so fucking sick of your shit!” Angus hollered from the front of the bus to where Caillen was sulking in the back lounge. “If you don’t want to be here, then fuck o- Oh, morning Har,” he grinned, patting my shoulder as I came to a stop behind him. “Then fuck off!”

“What’s goin’ on?” I asked, peering past Trent who was climbing out of his bunk, at Caillen. Angus rolled his eyes with a scoff, and pointed down the hall.

“Fucking douche bag fairy is being a fucking little prick.”

“Why?”

“Simon asked him if he’d rather use his Gibson or his Fender and he flipped his shit,” Angus exclaimed. His cheeks were red and his eyes were wide so I knew that he was way past furious. “So Caillen starts abusing Si and now he’s gone somewhere and Caillen’s sitting up the back acting like his shit don’t stink.”

“Yeah man,” Trent agreed, opening the fridge and grabbing a water bottle. “Think I saw Si shed a tear as he left.” Angus scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I know how you feel bro, but there’s jack all we can do about it, ya know?”

“Tell him to fuck off?” Angus presented with a hopeful look.

“We can’t do that,” I sighed. “He’s on our contract.”

“So?” Angus asked. “If he’s going to treat us like fucking shit and then go and treat Simon, who is like, the greatest dude ever like shit, then we don’t want him here. He can fuck off back to the land of I-don’t-give-a-shit.”

“Exactly, bro,” Trent nodded, pointing at himself and then at Angus and back at himself again. “We’re on the same page.” With a roll of my eye I shook my head at them.

“We’ll work something out after our set,” I promised them. “For now however, we have to go to soundcheck.”

“Right,” Angus nodded. “You coming dickhead?” He called down the bus at Caillen and when he remained seated, Angus growled and turned to Trent and I. “Come on, We’ll get someone else to play for the dweeb.”

The sun was hotter than anything I’d ever felt before and as I walked under it I could feel my skin starting to burn. Angus, who was walking in front of me with Trent, had shoulders so red they could rival a tomato. Trent wore a thin sleeved shirt, so I couldn’t tell if he was burning or not.



By the time we reached the stage, my face felt hot and gross, and I could swear that my feet were in buckets of hot water. My shoes were going to stink later, so I wasn’t too excited to take them off.

“Where’s Caillen?” Simon asked when he spotted us. Angus and Trent shrugged.

“We left him at the bus,” I replied. “He’s being an asshole.” Simon nodded in agreement.

“Strangely, I’m okay with this,” he nodded again. “How about I play bass today?” I shrugged and looked to Trent and Angus who were both grinning and nodding their head along in agreement. “Well, that’s that sorted then.”

“Fuck yeah, buddy!” Trent exclaimed.

“Alright,” Simon said, looking between the three of us. “Hopefully Caillen doesn’t mind me using his guitar...”

“Who gives a fuck, honestly,” Angus rolled his eyes.

“Alright,” Simon said, ignoring Angus. “We go on in ten so grab what you need and we’ll head up.” The guys set about grabbing guitars, picks and drum sticks while I climbed the steps and leant against a monitor to wait for the band before us to finish.

I had absolutely no idea who they were, but they each had long black hair, huge beards and enough tattoos to call themselves a colour-in book, so that in itself was enough to scare me.

“Alright, thanks for having us!” The lead singer called down the microphone. “But that’s all we have time for today! We’ll be back in Denver soon!” He hastily threw his guitar pick out to the crowd and then followed the rest of his band backstage. “Good luck! Sun is a fucking scorcher today!” He told me as he went past.

“Thanks man, I’ve got my sunscreen,” I replied with a grin, pointing at my petite arm. It was a lie, I’d forgotten to put it on this morning in my hurry to get ready for my soundcheck/ set, but he without doubt didn’t need to know that.

“Right on!” He did the metal hand and turned to jump down the steps.

Eventually the guys came up the stairs followed by a surly Caillen. He had his bass draped around his neck so I more or less understood that he had gotten livid at Simon and demanded he take off his guitar. The look on Angus’ face all but told me that he was more than ready to strangle Caillen already.

“Let’s do this!” Trent hollered, slapping my back and bounding towards the stage. Angus and Caillen followed and I followed along leisurely behind them, taking my time to step up to the microphone.

“What up Denver?!” Angus stepped out a beat on his bass drum while Trent played a couple of notes on his guitar. “We are Flight for Earth and we are so thrilled to be here!” The guys played a different tune. “So this song is called Fast Lane!”

I waited patiently for the guys to play out the intro, tapping my van clad foot against the ground along with the beat, before I opened my mouth and started to sing.

“It’s never gonna be that easy, to fight back, just try now, please me. Won’t you. Won’t you. It’s like this, livin’ in the fast lane.”

It always astonished me when I could see kids in our pit smiling as they were singing and dancing along to our songs. Maybe it was because I never really thought that our small garage band would ever amount to anything, or maybe it was because I didn’t think my lyrics were very good quality at all. Either way, it still amazed me beyond belief.

“I’m never gonna pass that test, right? You’re never gonna let it rest, now, baby, really, It’s like this, livin’ in the fast lane.”



“Wow guys!” Simon beamed as we all trekked off stage after the last song. “I think that may have been the greatest set you’ve ever played! I’ve never seen the fans go that wild before! Great job!”

“Thanks Si,” I grinned cheerfully at him, opening my water bottle and pouring it over my head with a huge sigh of relief.

“Har, don’t you think you could have done that elsewhere?” Angus asked, raising his brow. I gave him a confused look as he threw his shirt at me so he discreetly nodded his head to where two guys sat watching me. “Don’t need a kidnapping, do we...”

“Right, thanks dude.”

Garrett Nickelsen.
Come have lunch with me. At catering.

“Who’s that? Trent asked as he slyly tried peering over my shoulder like I was texting someone secretly. “Oh it’s Garrett,” he said with a disappointed sigh. Angus laughed and pushed Trent roughly.

“Who else would it be bro?”

“I thought he could have at least been Har’s secret man, ya know?” He shrugged. “We only ever tease Caillen; we need to mix it up a bit.”

“Yeah man,” he agreed. “Teasing Har is fuckin’ funny as.”

“No it’s not,” I replied, shaking my head. “Not a funny thing to do at all.”

Harlow Bennett.
Not hungry, but I’ll come sit with you.

“I’m going to hang out with Gare for a bit. Do I have to be anywhere at any time?” Simon pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his to-do list carefully.

“You guys have a signing at 6, so you have a while to do whatever,” he nodded. “Get to the tent at around a quarter to six though.”

“Alright,” I agreed. “I’ll see you all later.”

The guys gave half-hearted waves as I spun around and went back the way we had come, past the stage we had just left. Slowly, I headed towards where the giant catering tent stood behind the smallest stage on tour, where all the small bands plus the home town bands played.

I found Garrett sitting in the middle of catering with Pat and Rian Dawson. He was sitting with his head against his hand as Pat and Rian talked animatedly about drum techniques. He let out a whoop when he noticed me and patted the seat beside him.

“I’ve had to sit here for the last twenty fucking minutes listening to them talk about bass pedals...” He groaned as I sat down. “Do you know how boring that conversation would be for someone who plays a bass guitar?”

“You know, I’ve never actually been in that position, so I wouldn’t know,” I laughed. “Hey, can I have some of your coke?” Garrett frowned, but pushed his can of coke towards me. “What?”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Nope,” I shook my head, sipping from the straw.

“Didn’t you just finish your set though?” He asked. “You wouldn’t have had time to eat between the time you left our bus and your set...” I accidentally gulped too much coke and spluttered it as I swallowed.

“So?”

“You haven’t eaten since last night... And you didn’t even eat much then...” As if to set his mind at ease, I grabbed part of his chicken and salad sandwich and bit into it.

“Better?” I asked, swallowing the bite and going back to slurping down his coke. He gave me a look but didn’t press the subject any further instead he opted to pull out his phone to type up a couple of things before setting it down on the table and looking at me. “So what have you done since you last saw me?” Garrett shrugged and snatched the cola can from my hands to take a sip.

“Did a signing,” he replied. “Got some cool stuff from fans.”

“Like what?” I was trying on keeping the subject away from my lack of interest in food, and it seemed to be working out great for me. “Anything interesting I can steal from you?”

“No,” he glared at me as he handed the can back empty, grinning when I scowled and set it down on the bench. “You always steal my shit.”

“You’re my best friend Gare, it’s what I do.”

“I don’t give a shit who you are, quit stealing my shit.”

“Gare,” I said seriously. “You love when I steal your stuff.”

“No, no I don’t.”

“You do though!” I insisted. “Remember that time when a fan gave you a book on make-up because you wore eyeliner that one time...”

“It was a book about make-up though, so it doesn’t count.”

“You still were glad enough when I told you I was taking it.” He rolled his eyes and started to pick at his lunch again. “Hey look, it’s John.” Garrett looked up and smiled. “Why’s he got two lunch trays?”

We watched silently as John walked around tables and said hello to a couple of people along the way and then as he took a seat in front of us and pushed one of the trays across the table so that it was sitting in front of me. With a frown, I looked at Garrett who was giving me an intense look. Almost daring me to eat the burger and fries.

“Eat up Belle!” John grinned, picking up his burger and taking a massive mouthful.

“You shouldn’t have John,” I sighed. He stopped chewing and frowned. “I’m just not hungry,” I explained. John frowned at Garrett then.

“Dude, you said she was starving.” Garret shrugged and stood up.

“I guess I was wrong,” he shrugged. I watched him leave with an annoyed look on my face. He definitely knew he was onto something, which is what I didn’t want. John looked at me and smiled.

“You don’t have to eat it.” Shaking my head, I lifted up the burger and bought it to my mouth to take a bite. Maybe John would tell Garrett I had eaten, and Garrett wouldn’t have any other reason to lure me into a trap. “Har, seriously, it was like, one ticket stub. If you’re not hungry, just leave it.”

“No, no,” I shook my head, biting another bit. “I am hungry...”

I didn’t eat much, maybe half of the burger and a couple of chips. If that. I waited patiently for John to finish before telling him I needed to use the bathroom. John nodded and told me he would wait for me to get back and then we would go and I would watch his set.

There was a small line outside of the toilets. I hopped from my left foot to my right until it was eventually my turn to go into a cubicle. I smiled at the girl who had occupied it before me as I went past and closed the door behind me.

I knelt beside the toilet bowl and gently stuck my fingers down my throat to where my gag reflex was and waited for the familiar feeling of food and bile coming up my throat and out of my mouth.

“Gross,” I muttered, wiping my mouth roughly with my hand before standing up and flushing the toilet. “Stupid asshole, Garrett.”

I didn’t notice the boy leaning against the wall by the door as I left the toilet and headed back to John. Because if I had, I would have known I was busted.



“Hi we’re The Maine,” John told the crowd. He held the microphone by the end and stood with one hip popped. “We’re from Tempe, Arizona.” I snorted. Every show I saw the guys do, John told the crowd a different home town. Gilbert, Phoenix, Tempe, Mesa. You name an Arizona town, and The Maine had at some point come from there. “This song’s called I Must Be Dreaming.”

I think I found watching them play was very comfortable for me. They were all so familiar for me that they reminded me of home. Especially John and Garrett who I was incredibly close with.

By the time the guys had gone through their set all the way to their last song, I had to leave and get to my signing. I waved goodbye and only got a wave back from Kennedy, who had seen me out of the corner of his eye.

“Tell the guys I said bye,” I told Tim, who was standing beside me. He nodded and smiled as I went past him to the stairs.



“Hey Simon, calm the fuck down, she’s right there,” Angus pointed across the way at me. Simon looked over and visibly relaxed.

“S’goin on?” I asked, stepping under the tent flap and dropping down into a chair between Trent and Caillen. “I’m not late am I?”

“Nope,” Trent replied, popping the p. “Si is just stressed to the max.”

“Why?”

“Some kid took off with our tip jar,” Angus replied, leaning forward in his seat to see me around Trent. “Simon almost had an aneurism.”

“For real?” Things like this happened all the time on tour, there wasn’t really much you could do about it but it was just annoying because we could have used that money for petrol or food for the bus. “Hate when that happens.”

“Fuckin’ oath,” Trent agreed, smacking his hand down on the table.

“Alright, signing starts in five, four, three, two, and one.” Simon nodded at a security guard to open a gate so fans could come in and meet Caillen.

“Hey Caillen, you’re like, my favourite guy ever!” The first girl said. Caillen beamed and quickly signed the girls t-shirt before leaning over and hugging the girl.

“That’s so good to hear!” He babbled. “I love you too!”

I could practically hear Trent and Angus rolling their eyes.

“Hey Harlow!” The girl grinned when she got to me. “You are so adorable!” I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or if I should take it as a compliment.

“Thanks?” I questioned with a laugh.

“It’s totally a tossup between you and Hayley Williams,” she explained, pushing her CD forwards so that I could sign it. “You’re both so little and cute!” Trent and Angus were snickering beside me so I kicked Trent under the table.

“Hayley wins,” I laughed. “She’s my little muffin!” The girl awed at me and moved down to Trent, who was still laughing. “Hey, how’re you?” I asked the next girl.

“I’m good!”

“I’m Harlow, what’s your name?” Quickly scribbling my name across her CD case, I looked up and gave her a smile as she passed a tye-died purple, blue and green shirt to me. “Oh man, is this for me?”

“My name is Emily and yeah it is!”

“Wow, thanks so much!” I quickly slid the shirt on over my singlet and grinned when I noticed it had a picture of Schnitzel on it. “Holy crap, my Schnitz is on it!”

“Yeah!” The girl, Emily, grinned. “I figured you’d miss him when you’re on tour.”

“Hell yeah man, I miss him,” I told her happily. “Thanks so much. I’m gonna wear this all of tour!”

“No you’re not,” Trent interrupted. “No she’s not,” he told Emily. Emily frowned and looked at me as I rolled my eyes.

“We don’t get to wash our clothes much,” I explained. “But I’m still gonna wear it all the time. Thank you so much again!” I quickly stood up and hugged her tightly.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey!” The next girl screamed. I grimaced and she gave me a sheepish look to which I laughed at. “My name is Courtney! You guys are my favourite band in the whole world!”

“Wow, thanks so much!” I signed her poster and handed it on to Trent.



By the time the signing was over, I was beat. I grabbed all of my gifts I’d gotten from fans and told the guys I’d see them later before I headed back to the bus. I was glad when I noticed it was empty of anyone. The guys and Simon were back at the tent while our techs must have been still packing up our instruments back at the stage.

While I had quiet time, I quickly had a shower, took off my make-up, brushed my teeth and climbed into my bunk ready to sleep forever.

Garrett Nickelsen.
Got something you wanna tell me?

“Fuck.”