Breaking the Rules

“… thought we should set up a small, but extraordinary, three-month tour over all around America!” she cheers. It takes roughly three to five seconds for the boys to realize they were going on an American tour. Then they freak out.

I struggle to keep the camera steady because I’m screaming along with them. Honestly, they’ve been in America for less than a week, a somehow my mom sees enough potential to just send them off. I don’t think it’s very logical, but, I’ll let her do whatever the fuck she wants as long as I can still stay here.

The boys take the camera away from me, and then take turns stuffing it in each other’s faces.

“Boys! Boys! Quiet down so I can tell you more info,” mom says. The boys stop screaming but keep on their smiles. Smiles of fools, extremely happy fools.

“The tour will start in seven months. It will be two or three shows a week, but there will be a lot of traveling. You will be visiting nearly every state. We’ve talked to your manager; she has already okayed this tour. There is already a total of four radio stops, Atlanta has one, we have confirmed two in New York, and then there is one in San Francisco – and we’re getting more. I have already gotten three press conferences and a local radio. A photo shoot is ready. I’m sure you could spread the word out through your social networking thing. So go on now, scream and shout, I have someone new to interview,” she explains. She turns to leave but then stops and looks right at me. “The person I’m interviewing is your temporal replacement. We decided that you’ve been stuck here to long, and Jayne offered to take you with. So you’re going on the tour.” Now it takes twenty seconds to realize I’m going on tour. It’s only ever happened, like, three times. And never to me.

I yell and yell and yell. Yelling like no tomorrow. The boys join and we all jump in a big circle. The Flip finds its way back out and goes around us. My mom laughed and left, now I plan to party.

“Who wants to go to the club?” Tom asks.

“Umm. I’m not old enough,” I say.

“Doesn’t matter. We’re famous,” he says cockily.

“So? This is LA. Everyone is,” I state.

“Then we’ll sneak you in,” Nathan promises.

“Alright,” I say. It’s not that I haven’t been clubbing before, it’s just not an “everyday thing.”

“Yes!” Tom cheers.

“I’m going to change,” I say turning to my room. I throw on black skinnies, a shirt that nicely hangs off a shoulder, and some killer boots. I put on a little make up so I look older. I make sure I’m stocked with aspirin for tomorrow, then leave.

The boys are all ready and totally pumped.

“Let’s go!” they cheer.

We go to an amazing club that hardly ever checks for license. It is six when we get there, and I know we won’t leave til after two. The club is packed, some people are already drunk. Tom and Max take off to buy us all shots and the rest of us find a bench.

“It wasn’t even that hard to get in,” Nathan says over the far too loud music. The people hear really enjoy watching people get drunk, huh.

“Nope. I used to come here quite a bit actually,” I say as Tom appears with three drinks, Max right behind with three more. Tom hands me one, Nathan the other.

“To America?” Max asks.

“To America,” we all agree clinking our drinks together. Everyone runs off to dance with strangers as I stand. They are very excited.

“Come on M’lady,” Nathan says running to the bar.

“How are you going to buy anything?” I ask. “You’re underage too.”

“But Tom’s not,” he says holding up an i.d.

“Please, you look nothing like Tom.”

“Well no duh. This is old.”

“Whatever.”

“What do you want?”

“Alcohol.”

He laughs. “I know that much.”

“I don’t care what you get me.”

“Okay.” He turns to the person behind the bar and orders. The man comes back with two identical drinks.

“There ya go.”

“Thank you,” I mumble preparing myself to chug the drink.

“Slow down. You’re going to get drunk before seven.”

“That’s the point, no? Come to the club, get drunk, take a cab home. Livin the life.”

“In that case,” he says turning to the bartender. “Two more, please.”

I smile as he hands me another drink. I down it and then grab his hand as I head to the dance floor.

“I don’t think it helps that I’m really lightweight,” I whisper in his ear. When I pull back he’s smiling. His hands slide down my waist in such a way that my trembles with pleasure.

“I think it does.”