Letters to a Rockstar

He's going to be disappointed when he sees that I'm the one he's been writing to all these months. I know he'll realize when a waste of time it was. I'm not fit to have human companions. It's too strange, and we're too different. Shea insists Adam is looking for more than friendship from me, but that's just crazy talk. Why would... No, how could anyone devolve romantic feelings for someone via letters- completely disregarding the fact that it's me we are talking about, it's just... Strange. I feel, he's wrong.
“Iz, come on. Get out of your head. We're going to be late.” I turn my attention to Shea, who is standing by the door holding our passes, before quickly tying my old chucks.

Before I know it we're at the area. The building is surrounded by people of all ages. Some with strange hair styles, dyed all sorts of colors, and others who look fairly ordinary. Most everyone, however, is wearing some sort of Genocide Parade merchandise. I feel out of place, more than I would have been in my typical baggy jeans and t-shirt. Instead Shea insisted I wear something dressier- date worthy.
This isn't a date.
I tug nervously at my tie as Shea and I wait in line to gain access to the building. I try not to focus on all the people around us, but it proves difficult when some random teenaged girl decides I would be a great person to bother. She flutters her eyes and she talks, complimenting me in any way she finds possible. I say nothing to her. It's rude, but I'd rather not say the wrong thing. I do that far too much without trying, and I don't want to end up insulting her.
“Izzy!” my brother shrieks before jumping on me. I steady us quickly so we don't fall, but I do end up knocking into the girl. She looks irritated, I'm not quite sure if it's because of Shea or my knocking into her.
“Excuse you! We were talking,” the nameless girl addresses Shea venomously.
“Oh? Iz here looked bored to death while you kept embarrassing yourself by flirting with a gay man.” Now, Shea is a giant sweetheart. Never really says anything mean to anyone, but he knows when someone makes me uncomfortable. He doesn't tolerate it. On top of this, he is determined Adam and I will be together. To him, this—we—are destiny, and he refuses to allow me to mess things up.
I open my mouth to apologize, though, I'm not sure for what. She doesn't give me a chance before she's stomping away, clearly upset by Shea's words. I look at my brother, pushing my glasses farther up my nose from where they slipped. He shrugs before handing over his ticket. Her being upset isn't bothersome to him, and it shouldn't be to me.
It isn't to me, either. Not really. It's just nerves. There are too many people around. It's making me anxious and uncomfortable.

Shea forces us forward, not stopping until we are right against the barrier. Adam will be standing in front of us on the stage, terrifyingly close. As the music starts up, I can't tell the difference between my fast beating heart and the bass reverberating through my body. My mind forces the thoughts of people pressed against me out, focusing only on the sound of the bass coming from the speakers. I refuse to look up at Adam. Not wanting him to see me, not wanting to know he's really there.
He has to be. He's singing. His voice is serenading everyone within the building. I can only make out certain words. The bass is too loud. There are too many people.
It's too much.
I need out.
After shouting into Shea's ear that I'll be in the hall leading backstage, I force myself to weave through the people. Only stopping once I am out of the crowd, away from all the noise. Quickly showing my pass, I take a seat on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. My breathing is all I think about, trying to regulate it while Shea is enjoying the show, and having fun as he deserves. I close my eyes, focus only on my breathing, and soon the world around me fades.
This is what I need. If I'm to meet him, I need to disappear for now.