Take Me Dancing

Kelly was not one to give in to stereotypical holidays that required one to buy inexpensive-looking gifts for an inflated price in order to receive a smile of thanks in return and maybe a quick fuck. No, she was much too classy for that, had much better morals, was a good person. At least, that’s what she told herself. It made getting through the 24 hours of Valentine’s Day that so much more achievable.

Her best friend Avery had a date. A date on Valentine’s Day. Who even does that? How cliché. Kelly spouted off her opinions about the holiday to her friend, of course. She wouldn’t let her ditch her on one of her many dark nights of sorrow without putting up a fight.

“Don’t you see? This is what society wants, not you.”

“Actually, society and I have an understanding. We’ve decided we both want the same things,” Avery replied coolly. Smart ass.

“You suck,” Kelly said.

“Love you too, babes,” Avery called over her shoulder on her way out. Kelly pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, hating Avery and Valentine’s Day and everything in general.

It was always like this. Avery going off on dates, getting a million texts, having the time of her adolescent life, whilst Kelly stayed at home and screamed Adele songs to her cat. And even he wasn’t listening to her. Life was so unfair.

After scrolling through her Facebook newsfeed for entirely too long, weeping about her online friends and their perfect dates and their expensive gifts they uploaded numerous pictures of, Kelly decided enough was enough. She was going out. She put on her tightest pair of skinny jeans, a long tank top and a leather jacket. Not bothering with heels, she tugged on her combat boots before leaving the house.

She didn’t know why she’d even bothered wearing her tightest pair of skinny jeans. They were uncomfortable, at the best of times, and unbearable at the worst. Besides, what were the chances of her running into a single male in the city on Valentine’s Day? Slim to none. It really was a waste of a pair of too-tight jeans. She briefly thought that maybe she should have worn her sweatpants instead.

She thought of Avery, in her shimmery gold dress with her tanned legs and her high heels and her perfect body. The thought of her laughing and drinking a glass of champagne and accepting an extravagant bunch of roses and box of chocolates from her date. The thought almost made her sick, and that was before she stumbled into the first club on her left.

As soon as she stepped through the door, the pounding of the floor caused by the live band playing excited her. She paid to get in (almost blowing her entire pay check), and pushed her way to the front, craning her neck over the tall people filling the club to catch a glimpse of the band. The banner hanging behind them said ‘Tonight Alive,’ which she guessed was the name of the band. She’d never heard of them before.

The lead singer was a blonde girl with an impressive range, and Kelly decided that she liked the band, but she was getting battered from just about every angle. She had to make a strategic retreat. Looking around to plan her escape route, she spotted an opening where someone had stumbled and made a break for it, the crowd spitting her out on the far right side, underneath the upper-level viewing platforms.

“You alright?” Kelly turned her attention towards the thin girl behind the band’s merch table, who was looking at her curiously. She immediately picked up on the girl’s thick Australian accent.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” Kelly said sarcastically, checking herself for bruises. The blonde girl snorted in laughter. “Oh, I’m sorry, is my misery and somewhat dishevelled state amusing to you?”

“You have quite the vocabulary,” the girl replied. “I’m Becca.” Kelly just looked at her and raised her eyebrows, wondering about her. She was wearing bright red skinny jeans and an Augustana shirt, which showed she had a fabulous taste in music.

“Aren’t you supposed to be wearing the merch you’re selling? Advertising and all that?” Kelly asked her. Becca laughed.

“Man, I’d never hear the end of it from Whakaio if I did.”

“Who?”

“The slightly balding guitarist.” Kelly looked towards the stage and spotted the guy Becca was talking about. He was bent over, thrashing his guitar and head-banging, though he had hardly enough hair on his head to do so.

“Is he your valentine?” Kelly said. Becca laughed.

“Wait, you’re serious?” she asked. Kelly just looked at her.

“No, he’s not. I did have a date, but he’s back in Australia.”

“Oh,” Kelly replied.

“Yeah. I was really bummed I had to cancel on him for this tour. He was devastated. Poor guy.”

“That sucks,” Kelly said.

“Poor little Gizmo will be eating dinner on his own tonight.”

“Gizmo?”

“My cat,” Becca replied with a grin. Kelly laughed and stepped up to the merch table, glancing at all the different designs on the various shirts. Her eyes fell on the stack of CDs and she briefly considered buying one, before she remembered she was fucking broke.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Becca said, handing her one.

“Thanks,” Kelly said with a smile. “I love Augustana, by the way.”

“No kidding!” Becca exclaimed. “And here I was thinking that I was the only person on the face of the earth who knew of their existence!”

“Guess not,” Kelly replied with a grin. “Tell me, do you like Fall Out Boy?”

“Impossible not to. They’re legends,” Becca replied instantly.

“You just passed the test. Congratulations, we’re now best friends.”

“Thanks for informing me?”

Kelly laughed. “Fall Out Boy are literally my entire life.”

“Tonight Alive are literally my entire life. These arseholes drag me around with them fucking everywhere and I don’t even get paid for this shit. If that ain’t dedication, I don’t know what is.” Becca threw her head back and laughed, her smile bright even in the darkness of the club.

“You want a drink?” she asked. Kelly raised her eyebrows at her.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Kelly questioned. In response, Becca pulled a gigantic bottle of orange juice out from under the merch table, followed by a bottle of vodka that almost matched it in size. Kelly’s eyes widened as a huge smile spread across her face.

“I like you,” Kelly said.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” Becca grinned and Kelly soon joined her behind the merch table. By the time Tonight Alive had left the stage and fans started drifting towards the merch table to make their purchases, its occupants were both completely smashed.

“Ya want that shirt, do ya punk?” Becca slurred, going through the boxes behind her to find the right size and tumbling over in the process. Whakaio appeared out of nowhere and helped her up, wrapping his arms around her waist. He laughed and pushed her hair behind her ear.

“Have you been drinking?” he asked her, his smile growing wider as he took in her bright eyes and lop-sided smile.

“Just a nip!” she shouted in an overly-fake British accent. Kelly laughed so hard her stomach hurt, and she grabbed at it with her hands in an attempt to ease the pain. Whakaio turned to her, as if only just noticing the brunette, holding out his hand.

“I’m Whakaio,” he said, “and you are?”

“Kelly. I’m, uh, Becca’s…friend,” she said, shaking his hand and smiling. She watched as Whakaio draped his arm around Becca’s shoulders and tried to get her to stand up straight. She giggled as Becca leant heavily on him, shouting about his almost-baldness, still in the fake British accent.

“Oh, man. I need to get her sobered up,” Whakaio said, looking down at Becca and laughing. She was sticking her tongue out at him and crossing her eyes. “I’ll just get Jake to come and help you!” Before Kelly could protest, he’d gone, dragging Becca after him.

Jake soon showed up, wearing an open shirt, torn denim shorts and no shoes. Kelly looked at him and raised one eyebrow as he introduced himself, awkwardly tugging at his sleeve. His brown hair flopped over one of his eyes and despite his tall build and muscular arms, he seemed shy and kind of insecure.

“You do know it’s winter, right?” Kelly said. Jake smiled.

“I don’t really feel the cold,” he said.

“You should still wear shoes, man. You could get some sort of disease and then before you know it, you’ll have no feet. You’ll be hobbling around on bloody stumps where your feet once were,” Kelly said. Jake immediately erupted into fits of laughter.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked her, still laughing.

“I’m Kelly. Recent friend of Becca’s.”

“Well, Kelly, let’s sell some fucking shirts.”