Props and Mayhem

Having a car would make life so much easier. But Emme didn’t have one, so she was asking her mother for a ride yet again.
“Emme, I won’t be able to get home from work in time to get you to Boston—and what about Mary and Jacob?” Her mother clicked on the front burner to heat up their soup.
Emme tucked her blond hair behind one ear and grimaced. “Then how should I get there?” Usually she’d let it go for the moment, but this was important. The benefit concert was Friday night, and she’d been practicing. She couldn’t back out.
Her mother shrugged helplessly. “Ask one of your dance friends.”
That wouldn’t work, but Emme sighed and went to her room. It was clear that her mother didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She smiled and fingered the bedazzled velvet leotard she would wear as she danced upon the stage with the rest of her dance class. If she could go, that is. She closed the door and flopped on her bed, flipping open her laptop and immediately turning on Falling In Reverse. Oh, Ronnie Radke. And Jacky Vincent. She laughed, thinking of her friend Jayne and last summer’s Warped Tour.
Like the average teenage girl, Emme logged onto Facebook to check her notifications. She’d been invited to an event page for the concert. “Going”…. Then she realized that Dan was going, too. Number one, she thought, what the heck. But number two, he has a car. She and Dan were far from best friends, but she took her chances and messaged him, explaining the situation. After all, they did drama together. That had to mean something, right?
After dinner, during which Emme tried not to pout or talk too much about all the concerts she and Jayne wanted to go to, she returned to the computer. He’d messaged her back.
“I’m doing lighting”—Emme grinned. Dan did the lighting for everything—“so we’ll need to get going right after school. That OK?”
Oh, sweet relief. Emme typed back, “Thank you!! I’ll meet you by the PAC parking lot after school.”
“K, no problem.”
Now that that was resolved, Emme turned to her homework. How fun.

“I’m doing a benefit concert in Boston on Friday. Did I tell you about it yet?” Emme could barely hold in her excitement.
Jayne smiled down at her rather colorful Astronomy binder. “No! What’s it for?” She flicked her red hair over one shoulder.
“Cancer research.”
“Just about every fundraiser is for cancer research these days. But it’s a concert. Maybe you’ll see my love,” she joked, pointing down to Jacky Vincent beneath the clear plastic of her binder.
“Pierce the Veil is going to be there!” Emme smacked her hand on her desk. “I just hope we’re not preforming at the same time.”
Jayne widened her hazel eyes. “That would be awful.”
“I know—”
Mr. MacCleod entered, and the two fell respectfully silent. Discussion over.

Moly’s nervous energy mounted in anticipation of Friday, whether due to the concert itself or riding in with Dan, she didn’t know. When Friday at last came, she raced to the parking lot and jumped into his surprisingly shiny BMW. The ride up was awkward, but then, he was just awkward in general. And besides, Emme reasoned, a ride’s a ride. She’d do whatever it took.
“Whatever it took” ended up requiring that she trail behind Dan as he went from stage to stage, setting up lights and whatever else it was that he was doing. She really had no clue what that was, besides screwing in light bulbs. Sometimes he had her carry his charts and notes, like a real roadie. It was pretty boring, in all honesty.
After a bit, Emme escaped to the bathroom across the venue. She held her hands under the hot water for a long time to warm them up. The fall chill was getting to her. On her way back to the red stage, where Dan was, Emme heard voices behind her.
One, louder than the others, and sounding as if it was always tinged with laughter, cried, “where is this blue stage, anyway?” She could practically hear the air quotes. “And is it actually blue? ‘Cause that would be so much cooler.”
Without even looking back, Emme pointed in the direction of the blue stage. Pssh. She’s already been there with Dan. Amateurs. But then she turned around and found herself staring at Jaime and the rest of Pierce the Veil.
Jaime grinned. “Well, is it blue?”
Emme nodded mutely. Should she ask them to sign something?
“Yes!” Jaime punched Tony in the arm.
Emme stifled a smile. She could feel her legs trembling. What should she say?
“Nice shirt,” offered Vic softly.
She glanced down at her T-shirt and laughed. Of course it was a Pierce the Veil shirt. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you.” Vic pushed his hat back a little bit more in his head and fussed with his hair. “What are you here for?”
Emme was actually having a conversation with them. Oh. My. God. Jayne would die when she found out. “I’m dancing later. We’re on the yellow stage.”
Jaime’s eyes lit up, and he crowed, “a fellow performer!”
“Yep! Uh, I’m Emme, by the way.”
Vic introduced the others, but obviously Emme already knew who they were.
Mike hadn’t said a word, and he’d been playing with his muscle shirt the entire time. He needed someone to get him out of his shell.
“Well, you should probably get to the stage and set up, right?” said Emme reluctantly. She didn’t take her eyes from Jaime’s, which were a deep, rich, brown.
He shrugged. “Probably.”
They all fell into step together, and Emme ended up escorting them, chatting about music and anything else that popped into their heads. The only thing that would have made it better was if Bryan Stars was there. Now that would have been a dream come true.

Emme ascended the stage at five-thirty, still warm from the cocoa that Mike and Tony had made. Yeah, Pierce the Veil had a Keurig machine. Not fair.
The setting sun was behind them, making the yellow of the stage look golden, and washing the audience in a shade of rose gold.
As she danced, Emme’s eyes scanned the audience as they always did, but this time, she didn’t know anyone in the area except for Dan. He was probably too busy to come and watch, anyway. Her eyes fell on a spiky head of hair, and she bit down on her lip to keep from smiling too hard.
It was Jaime. Emme didn’t see the rest of the band, but she didn’t care. At least he was there. Now that she’d found a familiar face—and an attractive one at that—she looked at him whenever she could.
Once their performance was over, Emme rushed offstage with the rest of the girls. She was tired, achy, but happy. Everyone congratulated each other, while the roadies for the next act tried to shoo them out of the wings so they could set up.
One of the girls nudged Emme in the side. “There’s some guy looking for you,” she said, raising one eyebrow. “He’s in the wings on the other side.”
Stage left, Emme wanted to correct her. She just kind of stared at the girl, whose bun was unraveling, and tried to think of who it could be.
The girl shrugged and moved away.
Emme turned to cross the stage—a move her theater director would have killed her for—and bumped into someone. “Ugh, sorry,” she mumbled. It was way too crowded back here. Glancing up, she realized that it wasn’t one of the other dancers. Her stomach fluttered and she got that roller coaster feeling.
Jaime was smiling down at her.