Flash Photography

“Chace, bro, where are you going?” Kennedy called out as I made my way towards the exit.

I just finished showering and changing, but I just wanted to go back to the hotel. My cramps were killing me. “The hotel…?”

“Nah, man, we have to go out and sign for a bit, first!”

“O-Oh, right…well, do I really have to? I mean, I’m not Jared, so…”

John stepped out of the bathroom at that exact moment, buttoning up his jeans. I don’t think I’d ever get used to seeing him shirtless. “Yes, you have to,” he told me, drying his hair with a towel. “You’ve been to concerts before, right? Wouldn’t you be bummed out if you weren’t able to meet the band afterwards?”

“Yeah, but that’s not even it, John! I just…I have, like, severe social anxiety or something. I mean, I can’t even order pizza over the phone because, you know, that involves talking to an actual person!”

Kennedy shook his head indulgently, but John just laughed. “I have no problem believing that,” he said as he slipped on a clean shirt. “For real, though, Chace, our fans are the best. You’ve got nothing to worry about,” John promised. “They love us, they really do. Oh, and if they give you stuff, hug them and thank them and all that, alright? Because, you know, 3OH!3 said it best – ‘The Maine doesn’t get gifts; They get offerings’,” he said as he raised his hands to make quotation marks in the air.

Kennedy got up from the couch. “Stick with me and I’ll do most of the talking,” he teased, pushing me out the front door.

I kind of hid behind Kennedy the whole time, or tried to, but then people started asking him who I was, so of course he had to introduce me to them. They tried to talk to me, too, but if they complimented my guitar playing or, more often than not, my looks, I got all choked up or incredibly flustered. John was right – The Maine’s fans were the best. They were so nice and understanding of my shyness. But they had no idea that I was a girl, either.

“Can I have a picture with you?” a fan asked sweetly.

“D-Don’t you want a picture with Kennedy?” I was somewhat stunned that she wanted a picture with me.

“I already have one,” she giggled. “Please, Chace…?”

“Um, alright…” She hugged my arm and some other fan took a picture of us. It was so weird to feel the other side, to be the band member and not the fan. Really fucking weird…I’d never get used to it.

“Thank you,” she said as she hugged me before running off to Garrett.

“Chace, right?” another fan said as she approached me with a pair of lime green Converse in her hands. “Will you sign my shoes?”

“Oh, sure. I just…um…”

An arm draped over my shoulders, scaring the shit out of me, but it was only John. “Chace, you dumbass. Always have a Sharpie on you,” John scolded, but I knew he was just teasing me. He handed me a sharpie so I could sign the girl’s shoes, his arm never leaving my shoulders.

“Are you guys, like, you know…?” she trailed off suggestively as I handed her the shoe back. John laughed out a “No” at the same time that I laughed, “I’m a guy.”

Why did I say that?! Why didn’t I just agree with John?! It probably only made me look more suspicious… She seemed taken aback by our response. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being gay. We always figured you were, anyways, John!”

…I can’t believe she went there. This was getting really awkward really fast. John pulled away from me and launched into this whole spiel about how I was like a younger brother to him and how what we had was just a bromance, like Alex and Jack from All Time Low. But even that didn’t work out as planned.

“I don’t really ship Jalex, but I would totally ship you two! You guys would be… You guys would be Jace!”

John was just laughing and not taking her seriously anymore, or making any eye contact with me. “What do you ship in All Time Low? Rilex? Merrikat? Zalex?” I asked her conversationally.

She absolutely beamed at me. “Zalex, of course,” she laughed, but John was looking at me weird, so I tried my best to stop fangirling so hard. She left when the All Time Low band and crew came out to sign, though.

“How do you know those? The…ship things,” John asked as we walked to the van together.

Shit, shit, shit! Think fast! “My, uh, sister is a huge fan of them,” I lied smoothly.

“You have a sister?”

“Yeah…here,” I said as I showed John a picture of myself from a few years ago, when I still had long hair.

He blinked at my iPhone a few times before taking it from me and looking at the picture even more closely. “You look a lot alike,” he remarked, looking at me for a moment before staring at the phone intently again, which made me panic. He either recognized me or thought I was ugly… I don’t know which was worse. Why did I ever show him a picture in the first place?! “Here,” he said after clearing his throat, handing me my phone again.

“What, you think she’s ugly?” I asked with a laugh, not offended but just genuinely curious.

“No, no, no, she’s – she’s, uh, stunning,” John muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. I’m glad neither of us were really looking at each other because John was staring at the ground and my face was on fire. Stunning. John Cornelius O’Callaghan V just called me of all people stunning. “Has she…does she listen to our music? Has she ever been to any of our shows?”

“Oh, I’m sure she has.” I’ve been to every home show of theirs since the one Tess brought me to over two years ago. “She’d kill me if I came home without some band merch,” I laughed, my heart set on the skull crewneck and, of course, a physical, signed copy of Pioneer.

“That’s cute,” John laughed as we walked back to the van. We were the only ones there, though, so we just decided to lounge in the van and wait for everyone else to get back. John stretched out on the back row and I took up the second and…we talked. Just the two of us. It was wonderful. I was so happy that he was opening up to me more, especially since I thought he, you know, hated my guts. I wanted to tease him about being so deep that none of the stuff he said made sense, but it did. It always made sense to me. I almost hated it – how right he was about everything. I wanted him to be wrong about something. I wanted to see him…human, if that makes any sense.

“Most memorable show you played?” I asked after our lofty, heavy conversation had subsided.

“Oh, man, just, the whole South America tour. All of it. Brazil was so insane, Chace. There were so many fans!” said John, sounding so happy. “Those were some great shows. And home shows are always awesome, too… Like, oh, man, there was this one home show that – uh… never mind,” John mumbled, seeming to think better of it.

I sat up and peered at John from over the back of the second seat. “Come on, tell me.”

John blinked at the ceiling and turned to look at me, but before he spoke, Kennedy opened the door of the van. “Let’s get back to the hotel so we can get ready and go out for drinks! Jack and Alex know this great bar a few blocks down that’s…”

Kennedy rambled on and on as more and more of The Maine piled into the van and John relocated to the driver's seat, so I never got to hear what John was about to say…

Dammit.