Somewhere in Neverland

Caroline’s been weird since we woke up this morning. It’s not like I planned for what happened to have happened between us. I didn’t exactly expect to welcome her back to Baltimore like that, but it doesn’t change the way I feel.

Everything is so confusing. Yesterday I thought maybe, just maybe, I could work out the issues in my relationship with Lisa, but the minute I saw Caroline that entire plan went to shit. She’s always been beautiful, even first grade me knew she was beautiful, but something about the way the years have helped her mature into her exotic beauty makes me feel like that nervous little seven year old all over again.

I hate myself for giving up on Lisa so easily, but she’s never been someone I considered myself to be truly in love with. Hell, I loved her, still love her, but she’s always felt like a replacement for Caroline. It’s always felt like I kept her around to fill a void in my life and that’s not fair to anybody.

“You good, bro?” Jack throws himself down next to me on the couch and I nod unconvincingly. He eyes me with a worried look plastered to his face. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“No… maybe,” I can’t hide it from him. He knows me far too well to know I’m fighting an inner demon right now. “Yeah.”

He shakes his head and smacks me on the back in typical Jack fashion. “What will be, will be.”

I know deep down he’s right, but the past seven years have been torture. Even with the internet and cell phones, Caroline and I virtually lost all form of contact after she moved. I knew it would be hard on both of us, but I really believed that we’d be able to work something out. It must have been my stubborn naivety, but it broke my heart when we fell apart.

“Stop torturing yourself,” His eyes watch me carefully and I become self-conscious. There are very few people in this world who can read me like an open book, but Jack is very talented in that department. “I promise you, things will work out in your favor.”

“Did I ever tell you about San Francisco?” I blurt in a moment of extreme filter loss.

“What?”

I hang my head. “Never mind.”

“No, Alex. What about San Francisco?” He sits up abruptly and I know there’s no getting out of this one.

I sit on the edge of the couch and play with my hands, nervous and anxious just thinking about it. San Francisco is still something I question myself and have yet to tell anybody about. Hell, I don’t know if I remember exactly what happened that night.

“Well,” I start and notice the strange paisley pattern of the ugly carpet. “There were a couple shows in San Francisco that Caroline may or may not have ended up at.”

“What?” He says loudly. The volume startles both of us and he lowers his voice when he speaks again. “What the fuck, Alex?”

I shrug my shoulders and try to find the best way to explain, but don’t know where to begin. Besides Caroline, Jack is my best friend and I can’t even begin to fathom telling him about those nights in San Francisco.

“You remember that concert where the girl passed out in the middle of the audience halfway through the show?” I ask and it dawns on him.

“Holy shit! That was Caroline!”

I nod slowly and struggle to find the right words to continue. “When I found out, I sought her out after the show and shit kinda just happened.”

“What kind of shit?” He asks, all sorts of speculation and accusation in his voice. “Did you fuck her?”

“Well, yeah,” I’m not usually ashamed to admit my sexual experiences to Jack because they’re not usually being judged, but I know deep down that Jack can piece two and two together to know I cheated on Lisa. It’s not the first time, actually, but it’s the first time I’ve ever felt any guilt or remorse for it. Maybe it’s because I finally grew the balls to break up with her for good or maybe it’s because Caroline’s back in my life, or maybe it’s a combination of the two, but I feel like an asshole.

“You’re going to hell,” He says, offering me a high five.

I laugh and slap my hand against his. “As long as you’re gonna be there with me.”

“Wait, so like, what happened exactly?”

My cheeks flush red in embarrassment. “We caught up.”

“Yeah, your dick caught up with her vagina, no shit. What happened after that? Why didn’t you guys get back together?”

Jack has always been our biggest advocate. He’s the one who pressured me into asking Caroline out our sophomore year and he’s the one who stood by my side throughout much of the post-move depression. Jack is very much my same-sex life partner and other half and has gone through so much shit to ensure mine and Caroline’s happiness together.

“I don’t know,” I say because I don’t. I don’t know why we didn’t try to make things work from there, but it just didn’t happen. It might have been because she still lived in California and I still lived in Maryland and it just wasn’t realistic anymore, but looking back on it, I don’t know why I didn’t fight harder to be with her. “I don’t know why I didn’t try.”

“I feel like I’m playing Dr. Phil,” He laughs. “Dude, we have a show to play soon. Pull yourself together, man.”

“Jack,” I say before he leaves the room. He turns to face me again and I sigh. “Please don’t tell anybody. I-I don’t know what she remembers and what she wants people to know. I just needed to tell somebody and I know I can trust you.”

He smiles and I know immediately that he won’t blatantly say anything to anybody, but he will hint whole-heartedly and hardcore until she admits to it.

“Fuck you,” I say and follow him out of the room to the dressing room.



The room is in a state of complete disarray and chaos. Naked bodies fill the room in a mad dash to find clothes suitable for stage as the nerves kick in. I’ve never seen my band mates so flustered and nervous, but then again, I’ve never been this flustered and nervous, either.

“Is this acceptable?” I ask Jack, motioning to my less-than-desirable outfit. He grimaces slightly, but then forces a smile and nods.

“Sure,” He’s lying, but he wouldn’t ever tell me the truth. “Actually, who am I kidding? Caroline, you look like shit. Please put real clothes on.”

I was wrong. Jack’s a lot more blunt and honest than he used to be. I’m surprised and impressed, but am rushed out onto stage before I have the ability to change. Miller thrusts my bass in my direction as I step out onto the stage and the crowd roars in anticipation. I’m sure none of them knows who we are and they’re merely cheering because somebody has taken center stage, but the feeling is unreal and overwhelming.

Samson, like the true champion frontman he is, eyes each of us encouragingly and nods his head, motioning for us to begin. For a split second, I think I forget which song comes first on our setlist, but I’m quickly reminded when the familiar chords of Tomorrow’s Army begin and Samson’s voice blares through my earpiece.

Unbeknownst to any of us, there are some hardcore Feral Amity fans in the audience who sing every word of the song along with the melody and it finally feels like all of our hard work has paid off.



As Sam’s voice trails off and the instruments die down, the crowd goes crazy.

“Hello, New Jersey!” Samson screams into the microphone. “We’re Feral Amity from Palo Alto, California!”

They cheer again and it’s apparent that they cheer whenever anything is said.

“We’re gonna play a few songs for you, maybe warm you up a bit for the next few bands! Who’s excited for The Summer Set?” Insanity happens and I’m glad for my earpiece. If I didn’t have it in, I might go deaf by the sheer volume of the crowd. “And who’s excited for All Time Low?” It’s about twice as loud this time and I can’t help but look astounded by the level of noise this crowd can make.

“This next song’s called Race to the Summit. Sing along if you know the words!”

Adrenaline pulses through my body as we play our set and the crowd sings along. It’s crazy to think that they’ve watched us enough on youtube to know our songs by heart and be able to sing along with Sam as we play.

Before I know it, our set is over and we’re exiting the stage as quickly as we entered it.

“Dude, you guys did fantastic!” Zack slaps my back and pulls me into a giant hug. “Why didn’t I know that you could rock out on bass like that?”

“You did!” I defend and attempt to squeeze my way out of his arms to tend a low.

“Not like that,” He says. “You kicked ass, girl.”

“Well, thanks,” I gulp down giant swigs of Gatorade and wipe the sweat off my brow.

The wings of the stage are a giant cluster fuck as our equipment is cleared from the stage by Bam and Roland and The Summer Set’s is set up in its place. Blink-182’s song All The Small Things blares through the speakers to keep the crowd’s wait in between sets a little more bearable while John and Brian get pumped up for their go.

“Let’s take this back, 2005,” Brian sings quietly and John bobs his head to the silent rhythm. “Drinks are pouring, girls so fine.”

Unexpectedly, a pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind and pull me close and I can tell who the owner is based on the familiar protective grasp – Alex. I cherish the moment for a few seconds before I pull away and shoot him a questioning look.

Don’t complicate things any more than they already are. I want to tell him, but I bite my tongue.