Fifteen Ways to Survive Warped Tour

One Way To Be Broken

"I think I want that one... But how much is that one? I need to get one for my friend... What size do you think would fit me?"

At least I think that's what she said. I watched her mouth move, leaning in a bit so maybe I could hear this girl request things from me a bit better. She stopped talking, and just stared at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry, which one?" I yelled back, though her hearing me over the metal-core band playing right behind us was unlikely. She looked annoyed, understandably so. I mean, she probably had a long, busy day of watching every band she possibly could, and had no time to but up with MY bullshit. She started talking again, but this time I didn't hear her at all. I saw her point at the shirts behind me, and I saw her mouth move, but I couldn't make out a single word.

Not being able to hear people at Warped is a given. You basically have to scream to even get a basic clue of what someone is saying if you're close enough to one of the stages, and I knew that. I'd gone every year since I hit thirteen, and although this was my first year working, I was still usually pretty good at hearing people. It just took focus, the right lip reading skills and concentration.

Due to my break up a mere twenty six hours (not that I was counting or anything) ago, I wasn't particularly concentrated on anything really but the fact the Sleeping with Sirens would be playing in half an hour and I would be able to see and hear Kellin singing from the Monster stage. The girl looked at me expectantly and I took a step back, nudging my friend Darren, who also worked in the Vans tent with me. "Hey!" I yelled over the mix of instruments and screaming fans. "I... Need to go to the bathroom. I'll be back."

He looked at me up and down for a moment, as if sizing me up on my level of having to pee, or something stupid like that. "Yeah, go."

I smiled appreciatively at him and quickly slipped out the back of the tent as he tended to the masses of fans that I couldn't deal with at the moment. Instead of heading to the bathrooms, I started in the direction of the fences keeping fans from the tour buses and where all the bands and staff hung out. On my way over, I came to the Kia Rio stage, and for some reason, I paused.

All Time Low was playing. I'd seen them before, obviously, a few times. I'd never been a huge fan, not that I didn't like their music or anything, I just didn't get into it as much as others did. I'd never really been compelled to watch their entire set before, but for some reason today, I just prayed they weren't on their last few songs.

My eyes immediately focused in on the singer, who's name escaped me. I watched him curiously, as his lips turned in a small smile as he sang, and his upper arm muscles tensed while he strummed his guitar. He had a patch of pink hair sitting messily on the top of head among the brown (and a touch of blond, if I was seeing correctly). He was attractive, I couldn't deny that, but the most attractive thing I could see about him was how much he seemed to be enjoying himself.

The song drowned out and was replaced with a chorus of screaming fans. Then, the gorgeous voice that had just been singing trumped everyone else's volume.

"What up, what up, what up Warped Tour!" He yelled into the mic, causing another eruption of screams. "How are you all doing this lovely, sunny day?" More screams. "Good, good... Well, we're having a good day too. This tour has been pretty fucking awesome so far..."

"We're getting laid by sexy men, women and children daily." The guitarist piped in.

"Yes. That is very true, and we hope you are too... Cause I mean, let's be serious, the best part of Warped Tour is the obligatory intercourse. Why the fuck do you think there's a Trojan tent?"

I listened to their banter and the rest of the songs despite having a tent to work at. Their humor and energy was really cheering me up when I felt virtually as un-cheery as possible. When they left the stage, my day felt... Sufficiently better. Sad that they were gone, but happy they had been there in the first place.

With no intention of going back to the tent at all for the rest of the day, I slipped behind the fences and weaved through the tour buses. I saw the ever so familiar Sleeping With Sirens bus looming nostalgically beside the Machine Gun Kelly bus.

My mind said to turn back, don't put yourself through this. Don't think about spending nights in Kellin's arms in that very bus. Don't think about his eyes locked on yours right before climatic bliss. Don't think about Kellin. Don't think about Kellin.

"I know, I love you too... I miss you more."

It was his voice... and he was talking to her.

"Look, babe, I'll call you in a bit. My set is in like, one minute. Yeah, I know. Okay, love you too. Bye."

I stood absolutely still, but I felt like I was drooping, wilting, melting... Crushed under the weight of being turned away from the one thing that made me feel safe. I heard footsteps crunching into the gravel, and I quickly darted behind a random bus so I didn't have to face another one of Kellin's "we can still be friends" speeches.

I watched him pass by, heading off to find his band members, I'd assume. He didn't notice me hiding from him, which I was only half thankful for. I still longed for his presence, desperately so.

I stared at the spot he'd just walked across for a long time, before I realized I was crying. I leaned against the unknown tour bus, and sank down into the sand and gravel, burying my head in my hands.

Silent tears turned into wrenching sobs that made my whole body shake. The whole while, all I could think about was, that I had never been so broken in my entire life.
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