Don't You Dare Let Go

"Wait, did anyone notice?" John chuckles, still unable to stop himself from his minor fit of laughter. Somewhere in the middle of breakfast, we got on to the subject of embarrassing moments and so I was first to share. I was also the only one. John was still laughing and asking questions about my little tech booth mishap and so far, I was currently still the only person out of us both that had told of any mortifying moments.

"We're on in five, guys!" Chase says enthusiastically, patiently waiting with the rest of the guys for their well- anticipated turn to play. I gave a few of the guys a pat on the back to say 'good luck' and made my way back to the tech booth that was faced towards the stage, which was relieving, since some of the recent venues I've been to have been to the side. Let's just say I wasn't exactly the happiest of techs after those shows.

After I switched spots with the other bands tech in the booth, I sat myself down on the tiny footstool that was, unfortunately, currently warm and sweaty from the chair's last occupant. I uncomfortably shifted a couple million times and still after all of my desperate attempts to feel comfortable, I was not satisfied. Ah, the truly horrible and complicated problems I face everyday. Sweaty seats and cramped booths.

For the next fifteen minutes, I helped the guys' sound check and then the time came- It was time for these boys to do what they do best. I double checked everything to make sure we were good to go and when I was one hundred percent sure things were set properly, I flashed my tiny flashlight out the door and waited for someone on side stage to return one back. When they did, I hit the lights and immediately grabbed my earplugs from my pocket with urgency. I quickly shoved them in, blocking out the sound of the extremely annoying girls in the crowd. It wasn't necessarily the biggest crowd ever, but there were enough loud shrieks that would easily drive me insane.

Seeing the guys play their hardest on stage, even for one of the smallest crowds they've ever played for, made me feel like some sort of proud mother. I know that's weird, but I really love to see them live their dream and have fun doing it. I'd been with these guys ever since middle school, so I was always supportive of them.

A loud crack shakes me back into reality and a bright flash from the lights and soundboard erupted in front of me. Everything happened so fast and so much so that it scared me out of my seat. I fell back with a high-pitched shriek escaping my lips as I neared the floor. I heard the music stop right as I hit the wood beneath me and it seemed for a long amount of time I was just sitting there, my feet limp over the stool that was still resting under my butt and my head slumped close to my chest as I kept my back flat against the wall.

Not even seconds later was Andrew at my side, his guitar still strapped around his body. He slings it back behind him and helps me up by reaching his hand out for me to grab. Everyone's eyes felt as though they were stuck on us and before we knew it, we were laughing hysterically without a care of what people thought. I saw the rest of the guys on stage chuckling also and I started laughing more because we were all doing it for no reason.

God, we were weird, but I sure loved the way we didn't have a care in the world about anything, even with people watching. We stopped almost immediately because we knew we were starting to look really dumb. So we finished off the show without any problems and then after they ran off stage, I switched everything off and met them in the back.

Andrew was the first I ran into and he immediately grabbed my shoulders by surprise, walking me backstage like I was a child without any clue of where I was headed. Every time we would come close to even touching any wall, a sound of fear would escape from his mouth and you could hear him clench his teeth as he'd pull me away quickly. After a few more times of the same thing, I turned around, stopped myself in the middle of the room, and laughed, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making sure that you don't fall again." He chuckles, removing his hands from my shoulders. "I mean, regardless if you fell over from because you're clumsy or because of being frightened, you need to be watched. I can't have you falling all over the place." He smirks at me as I cross my arms and pout.

"I don't need you babying me." I tell him back, averting my gaze to the wall behind him, trying my hardest not to laugh. I cracked a smile and said, "You're one odd guy, Andrew."

He shakes his head with a smile on his face before bringing his gaze back up to look at me. "Well, you're one clumsy girl, Zena."

“Alright, now it's your turn. Anything embarrassing you've ever done on stage? Oh, I think I have one. How about last night when you got drunk and I had to carry you back? Yeah, to me that's pretty embarrassing.” I joke, feeling a light punch on my arm. I pretend like it hurt and say, “Ouch, that really hurt.”

“Sorry, I'm just really strong...” He laughs, casually flexing his arms at his sides before lifting them up and pumping them like a complete idiot. He stops to stand in a more fit stance and he starts to change the position of his arms every few seconds.

“You are so childish.” I snicker, continuing my walk back to the venue, leaving him behind with his “huge muscles” and “fit body.” Well, he actually did have muscles and a fit body, so...

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear someone ahead call for John down by the buses and a moment later, Garrett comes walking around the corner towards us. Once we're all stopped face to face in front of one another, he says, “Ah, there you are. Pat wanted to talk to you about a new drum part he wanted to add into our set. It's actually a pretty sweet fill.” He smiles, pointing over at the doors to the venue. “He said that he'd be inside on stage, practicing until you came.”

Garrett looked extremely tired this morning. He had dark shadows lining the bags under his eyes and his stance just gave off a vibe that he didn't get as much sleep as he'd hoped last night. His shoulders were slumped low and he would rub his eyes with an exhausted look on his face every once in a while. Maybe after I left he got a little drunk, but that couldn't be it because he was the one helping John walk this morning. He seemed perfectly fine, from a far, of course.

I look over at John; whose nodding his head slowly as a way of what I'd assume was him saying that he would go find Pat. “Alright, I'll go check it out.” He turns to me and says with a smile, “Breakfast was nice this morning. I had a great time.” He pats me on the shoulder before running off to the back door of the venue, disappearing within seconds. I don't know why, but I feel strangely awkward right now. Not because I was alone with Garrett, but because of that friendly pat on the back I had just received from John. Like... really? Yeah, we'll be the best of friends.

“Hey, are you okay? You look a little tired.” I laugh, trying to start a conversation with Garrett and also to ask if he really was fine.

He cracks a smile and nods his head slowly, causing the shadows under his eyes to revert back and forth from light to dark. “Maybe just a little...” He chuckles, once again rubbing his eyes. “Or maybe a lot.”

“What happened? Lack of sleep due to-”

“John.” He cuts me off with a slight laugh, looking down at the ground before continuing. “He woke up not long after we got back on the bus and he just went off. I mean, he was getting mad at us for irrelevant reasons before passing out. He usually does this when he gets drunk though, so most of the time we're used to it, but it still deprives us all of precious sleep.”

I knew that John was drunk last night and I could tell that he liked to drink as well, but I could never imagine him like the way Garrett had described him. I guess I really couldn't say anything because I literally just met him not even 24 hours ago. I guess I just had to believe him, even if what he was telling me wasn't something I wanted to hear. “Really? Was he being an asshole or was he just your standard drunk crazy?” I chuckle, but not enough to make it seem as though I found the situation funny, which I didn't.

“It was just a really bad night... but I don't want you to immediately think of him as a horrible person. He just gets a little aggressive when he drinks, that's all. He doesn't even get physically harmful.” Hearing him say that about John, that I shouldn't think less of him because of what happened, instantly makes me realized that no matter what, Garrett would always look for the best in someone. Regardless of their past or their flaws, he looks for the better in people.

I take a step closer to him, keeping a decent amount of space so that he doesn't get slightly creeped out, and voice to him my recent thoughts of his trait of finding the best in everyone. “How do you do that?” I laugh.

He responds with a chuckle back before asking, “What do you mean?”

“How do you find the best in people? I mean, regardless of if they've made dumb decisions and big mistakes, it seems like you don't necessarily look past it, but you find the things that really make them who they are and even though they've made that big mistake, to you they're still a good person... do you know what I mean?” I shake my head, feeling like I had just explained this in the worst way possible, and direct my attention to the ground. I chuckle lightly before looking up from the concrete to see him smiling shyly at me.

“I don't know, I just don't see the point in putting people down for things that don't really make them the person they are all the time, because my band mates all make stupid decisions sometimes, as do I, but they're still good people.” He answers and it seems as though in that moment, I was one hundred percent sure that Garrett was a genuinely good guy. Hell, he could have been lying to me and make it as if he was the most perfect person ever, but he wasn't and I knew that.

I casually point my finger at him and say, “You're a good guy, Garrett.”

"Thanks, I've been told..." He laughs casually as if he already knew that. "Many times before..." He flicks his hair to the side in a humorous way and then proceeds to observe his nails with his lips pursed tight on his face. I could obviously tell that he was just joking around even before he stopped with an adorable laugh to say, "Thank you. Well, you're not to bad yourself."

I reply back with ruby red cheeks and a shy smile. Oh god, it was probably written all over my face that I was attracted to him. Let's be honest, he's definitely easy on the eyes and he has a really great personality, plus he's a good person. Part of me wishes that my face would go back it's previous shade, but the other half wants him to know that I sort of had a thing for him. Yes, we just met, but sometimes it doesn't take long to become interested in someone. Just like me with John, I felt something for him immediately when we met yesterday, but I can say this- it wasn't like the way I felt now. The way I felt for John was more of a physically attraction or strangely, as more of a close friend- But for Garrett I felt emotionally and physically attracted to him, not in sexual type of way, but in the way of a girl thinking a boy is really cute, kind of way.

We both stay silent for a moment, but it doesn't feel awkward. If feels more comfortable, like we could just stay quiet for much longer than a minute or two and have it be completely fine between the both of us, like we could just start another conversation without hesitation.

“So tell me about yourself.” I blurt out in the most casual way I can, surprised that even I would spit that out without even a second thought... or first. I honestly wanted to get to know him better, since I did leave the party a little early last night. I never got the chance to talk to him like I'd been hoping too. “Twenty one questions, right here, right now.”

He seems to want to be okay with it, because he leads me over to the side of his band's bus and pulls two fold out chairs from the side compartment on the bottom of the bus. Once both are set out across from one another, we both sit down and begin with the questions. “Let's do it.”

“Oh, you seem pretty sure that you're just gonna answer the hell outta' these questions, aren't you?” I joke, leaning back in my chair so that the two front legs were off the ground, but not enough for me to worry about falling. All he does shake his head with a cute smirk and takes the liberty of asking the first out of well... twenty one questions.

“So Zena, where were you born?” He asks, kicking up one leg to rest on top of the other.

All I do in response is change my expression to look somewhat uninterested and disappointed. “Arizona, duh... but come on! That's all you can think of? I'll start then.” I laugh, pausing a moment to think of something to ask that will be nothing less than revealing and hard to answer, but I feel like it would be better to start with something a little more casual. “Funniest memory?”

“Hm, well... there was this one time when Pat got crazy drunk, which was weird because Pat never drinks, but it was seriously the funniest thing ever...”

“"Anyone up for drinks?" I hear John ask as he rounds the corner backstage at possibly one of the smallest venues we've ever played at. I think that since tonight was going so well, because we had just sold out the whole venue for the first time ever, that we all felt as though we deserved to go out and have some fun. “I say we all grab some beers with the rest of the bands and celebrate.” He chuckles, wiping his forehead with his shirt, which he had taken off within the first five minutes of the show. We had just finished our set and since we were headlining, we didn't even need to wait to ask the rest of the guys.

I nod my head in agreement, before saying, “Yeah, I'm down.” We hadn't had a chance to do anything fun after shows anymore, considering we were always super tired and just wanted to go to sleep on the bus, but somehow the fact that we had sold out as a headliner energized us. Either that's the reason or California just has some sort of positive effect on our energy.

For about ten minutes, we made sure to let everyone know that we would all be celebrating at the bar across the street from the venue. I wasn't a heavy drinker, but I knew some people who were. Sometimes it would get out of hand and then the fun would end way too soon. Hopefully this wouldn't turn into drunks fights instead of a fun time with friends. I knew I wasn't the only one who would be watching out for the heavy drinkers on this tour, more John than anyone else, because he's been starting to drink more and more every time there's alcohol around. It's not really that bad right now, but we're all just worried this might turn into something harmful for not only us, but also for himself.

Now we were all sitting around in a large booth at the bar, chugging down our drinks of choice. The only person who wasn't drinking was Pat and we weren't surprised. Pat never drank, but of course, at some point he would grab a beer and drink only a tiny bit before abandoning the drink all together, but we never thought less of him because he didn't. It was just his personal decision and we all respected him for that. I think I speak for most everyone on this tour when I say that I wish I didn't have access to alcohol. It just becomes a problem and sometimes makes it harder for us to do our job every night.

“Excuse me sir, would you like another?” I hear at my side, knocking me out of my trail of thoughts. When I look over, I see a woman who I would assume was one of the bartenders.

I nod my head, handing her my empty beer bottle even though I wish I could just say no, but I think I earned this tonight. We had a reason to just hang out and drink as much as we pleased. The bartender comes back a moment later, another beer bottle filled to the top with a potent but delicious substance. “Anyone want anything else?” She smiles, pushing back a stray strand of her sandy blonde hair behind her ear.

The first person that spoke up was the last I'd expected to even ask. “I'll take one.” Everyone immediately looks over at Pat in disbelief and as he scans our faces with the same shocked expressions plastered on, he laughs, “Why not? I mean, this is a special occasion... kind of, but still.”

“This is the beginning of the end...” Halvo, also known as Eric Halvorsen from our good friends in Rocket, in confusion. We all laugh at his remark and once our waitress was back with Pat's drink, we watched him with hawk eyes as he brought the bottle to his lips... and you know what, Halvo was right.

From that moment on, Pat was bouncing off the walls with energy we didn't even know he had, which was unbelievable because this boy has more energy than anyone I have ever met. He literally hopped back to the bus, completely intoxicated, but showing no signs of being drunk at all. The only thing that we would have assumed that he was under the influence of would be some sort of strong drug.

“Guys, don't fall asleep on me!” He whines, hours after his first drink. This was now around the third hour of complete “Pat-sanity.” He was still going strong, moving from one thing to another quickly from the front of the bus to the back. One minute he would be playing the Nintendo 64 in the back and the next he would be raiding the fridge for nothing in particular. One thing was for sure- Pat was one lucky bastard, because he was drunk, but he wasn't drunk.

“Pat, it's four in the morning and if you haven't forgotten already, we still have a show tomorrow. We need to sleep.” Jared yawns, making sure to hint the large amount of annoyance in his voice. After those words leave Pat's mouth, he goes one hundred percent insane and I swear, we were all on the floor before it even started. He was swinging viciously on the sides of the bunks, while sounds of what made him sound one hundred percent demonic escaped his mouth. He had managed to strip down to his boxers effortlessly and made sure to distribute articles of clothing all around the bus.

He tucks his hair behind his ears quickly and shouts, “I AM RATBOY!” before proceeding to run on his hands and feet all of the buses ground. He kept on repeating it more and more and each time he would, it got so much more funnier that our sides began to hurt.”

“...and so that was the beginning of Pat's alter ego, Ratboy.” Garrett laughs, nodding his head to somehow let me know he was done.

Before when he was actually telling the story, I was half listening, half watching him just... talk. I know that sounds creepy and all, but it's not like he wasn't talking to me, so all it was before was me zoning out. Simple as that... but as I was “zoned out,” I did notice how expressive he was when explaining things. He would use his hands a lot and change his facial structure at the right moments. God, he was just like a little kid and I didn't mind at all. We all still had bits and pieces of our younger self... I mean, I do.

I still make really weird sound effects while explaining stories, so Garrett and I are very alike.

I laughed at the thought of Pat acting in such a manor and say, “I might just have to pass a beer over to Pat to see this “Ratboy” for myself...” After I say that, I feel like I had just said something that sounded extremely bad, like I wanted to get him drunk and do something bad. Fuck, I'm doing it again. Why must I let my mind wander this far out of my area of 'processed thoughts?' I need a better filter.

“No need, he'll do it at random moments on any day, but it sure is hilarious when he's drunk, as I have just told you.” He chuckles, casually tucking his hair behind his ears and reenacting a much more toned down version of the Ratboy he had described before. “I am-”

Before Garrett could finish his sentence, Pat comes whirling around the bus behind us in what I would assume was his alter ego. “RATBOY!” He was crawling on all fours, getting up close and personal with not only Garrett and I, but those passing by us as well. Since this was only the start of the tour, some of the people Pat interacted with had no idea what to do and so for them it was awkward, but for us it was hilarious. I had to hold my sides because it really was as funny as Garrett had said.

“Ratboy!” I yell for the hell of it, hopping out of my chair to chase after him. Only seconds later did Garrett come trailing behind me after Pat as we weaved our way through all the buses, shouting just as loud as I was. It was easily clear that these two would definitely be on my schedule to hang out with, because they made me forget about how much I missed my mother and they made me feel like a little kid again.

They made me feel lucky to have gotten an opportunity to come on this tour with my best friends and do what I love most. So I guess you could say these guys were just an extra, or a bonus.

Either way, I was happy and I had these guys to thank.