You Don't Have to Worry

Alison was in a daze the entire weekend. She didn’t know how she was going to handle it! The task that Drake gave her was pretty big and she was surprised at how much trust he had in her.

The tour was in three weeks’ time, and they were able to get all of the bands that they wanted. It was pretty big and will last for two (almost three) months. Alison had no idea how their bosses managed something like this but was amazed nonetheless. She knew better than being a little bitch about it. Besides, she loves what she does. Bazooka (the tour everybody has been working their asses for) has all in all six huge bands playing for them – Alison liked some of them, the others were like nails against a chalkboard to her ears. Her bosses didn’t need to know that, of course.

As for the brunette’s task, it was to be – in layman’s term – the band bitch.

Flashback

“Let me get this straight, you want me to be the band bitch?” Alison pointed at herself, trying to be calm about the situation but her voice raised an octave or two higher.

“I wouldn’t really call you that – I’d refer to you as the band’s babysitter.” Drake smiled.

“Drake! Not helping!”

“The official term sounds a lot fancier than the job itself, though.” He offered. Alison couldn’t help but roll her eyes at this.

“Please, enlighten me.”

“You’re the assistant tour manager.” He grinned at the girl in front of him, hoping that she’d see the light in the situation.

“Take out the ‘assistant’ then you’ll have me jumping around with joy.” Ali rolled her eyes again whilst taking a sip of her beer.

“Don’t underestimate the job, Al.”

“I’m not,” She sighed. “But I wasn’t really expecting something so…” Alison paused and racked her brain for a different word that wouldn’t cost her, her job.

“Something so what?” Drake pressed. She could only sigh at this and shake her head to get out negative thoughts.

“Something like this.” She gave Drake an apologetic smile and was glad when he smiled right back.

“Okay well, for you to understand the gravity of this job… and situation… I’ll just come right out with it. You’re assigned with three bands.”

“Three?” That didn’t seem like a huge number. “How many bands are there?”

“Six,”

“And how many bands do the others get?”

“One,” Drake said with such simplicity that it scared the dark-haired girl.

“Okay, now that’s just unfair!”

“Look, I can’t trust others with this, Alison.” He gave her a pleading look, “Besides, you’re a people person. Your public relation skills are outstanding!”

“Your flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere.” She took another swig of her Corona.

“Point is, Ali… I trust you the most.”

The grave look on his face was so serious that Ali just couldn’t say no to. Drake seemed so desperate before her.

“Okay. But this better get me a promotion.” She rolled her eyes for the nth time that evening.

“Alison, this is your promotion.” Her eyes widened at this. She blinked a couple of times, almost waiting Ashton Kutcher to come out of nowhere and shout that she’s been Punk’d, but it didn’t. And slowly, a wide grin spread on her lips. “A normal part-timer would have been stuck selling merch and manning the buffet while serving food.” He winked.

Alison was still trying to wrap her head around the information that she got a promotion, despite the fact that she’d been sick an entire week.

“Who are the bands?” She finally managed to get words escape her lips.

“Well we got Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens, The Maine, You Me At Six, This Century and A Rocket to the Moon.”

By this time, Alison could just do her victory dance with the mention of her favorite bands, but was quickly contradicted by some that she didn’t exactly like. She scrunched up her face at the thought of them. Nails being scratched through a chalk board, she thought.

“Please tell me I got the good bands.” She told Drake hopefully.

“You got Pierce The Veil, This Century and The Maine.”

“One tolerable band out of three?” She exclaimed while Drake gave the girl a warning look, as if telling her to behave. Ali groaned at the sight of this. “Fine.”

End of Flashback

This is good exposure, Ali. Good exposure.

She chanted this in her head over and over. It was better than being stuck with piles and piles of heated food at the venue, so she’s thankful for this.

Honestly, there were a lot of pros to this job than the cons. She just hates how she’s stuck with two shitty Arizona bands.