Status: This baby is completed. (: Enjoy.
Props and Mayhem
Props and Mayhem Numero Tres
Already, a month had passed since the benefit concert, with no “private concert”, and honestly, no contact with the band whatsoever. Emme had to admit that she’d hoped for something more than that one chance encounter, and felt let down at the realization that it didn’t mean as much to Jaime as she’d thought. She’d read the signs all wrong.
She logged into Twitter, dimly noting her now 4, 012 followers—most acquired from her meeting with Jaime. It was nice to have more followers, but it sure was depressing when she thought of why she had them in the first place. Maybe she’d just wallow in her misery and read Pierce the Veil’s tweets.
An hour ago, they’d tweeted about a livestream at 9:30 to promote their new album. Emme checked the clock, feeling a bit frantic. It was about 9:55. They were probably still online. Though Emme didn’t know what she’d even say, she pulled up a new tab on her computer and reflexively fixed her hair.
Thank goodness, they were still there, and Emme typed in her question, smiling uncontrollably at the sight of the guys. Jaime was on Vic’s lap, and Mike and Tony flanked them, Tony drumming his fingers on his leg. The video quality wasn’t great, but she didn’t care. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“It’s Emme,” she had written. “We met at the benefit concert last month. When is this private concert happening, anyway?” She waited anxiously for them to see the question. She also hoped that they remembered her. How embarrassing would it be if they didn’t?
Jaime broke into a huge grin as he leaned close to read the screen. “Emme?! Our backstage buddy?” he exclaimed.
Mike scratched his jaw and shrugged. “We’re going on our European tour in a week or so,” he answered, “so we won’t even be in the country.”
Why couldn’t Emme go see them in concert? Well, technically she had, at the benefit concert, but still.
“But”—here Vic pinched Jaime in the side—“if you, maybe, gave us your phone number, our people could call your people.” He looked directly at the webcam mischievously.
Jaime laughed and winked. “Something could be arranged.”
Emme’s stomach did the roller coaster thing again and she actually forgot her own cell phone number for a moment. Quickly, though, she pulled the computer closer and typed it in.
“Next question!” cried Jaime, who seemed more energetic than before.
Emme was tempted to stay online and watch, but she had creative writing homework to do. Besides, they’d call her. She could only hope it would be soon.
Her phone rang the next night, and Emme snatched it up at once, hoping that it was any one of the band members. She’d been jumpy and anxious all day, just waiting for them. Every call from a number she didn’t recognize, she’d answered anyway, making for several awkward conversations with telemarketers and political campaigners. “Hello?”
“This has to be Emme!” The voice sounded breathless.
Emme probably sounded just as breathless. “Jaime?”
“You don’t know how many numbers I had to go through to get to you. Tons of people gave us their phone numbers on livestream last night, and then of course we couldn’t be rude and hang up when we found out it wasn’t you. They’re fans, and we love our fans. Really, they’re great. But I recognized your voice at once.”
Emme drew the covers up over her legs and tucked them around her, smiling all the while. Jaime was so cute. “Oh, it’s me all right,” she replied, and then just sat there. She was perfectly content listening to him talk—or even breathe. Did that sound fangirl-ish?
“I was thinking that…” Jaime paused, and Emme could imagine him running his fingers through his hair. “You and your friend could come on tour with us—I mean, come see us. In Europe, you know,and just hang out, I guess.” He actually sounded nervous.
“I mean, I’d love to, but I don’t know if I could.” Emme knew her mother would never let her go to Europe. “Plane tickets are expensive,” she mourned.
“I’d pay,” he said indignantly. “And for your friend, too. I’m a gentleman.”
“Well—when? I’d need to figure things out, you know?”
There was another pause. “Meet us in London,” he said definitively. “That show is the 19th.”
Emme traced a swirly pattern on her knee and bit her lip. How would she and Jayne convince their parents? “I’ll try, but—“
“Emme,” Jaime interjected gently. She liked his gentle voice. “Just let me know, okay? I’ll call again next week and we’ll see.”
She burrowed deeper beneath the covers. “Okay. You’ll probably need to change your phone number because of all the fans you called, right?”
He groaned. “Probably.”
Mary, Emme’s younger sister, marched into the room and promptly began rummaging through Emme’s belongings. “Emme, where are those disco ball earbuds? I need them.”
Emme rolled her eyes. “Jaime, I’m sorry, but I need to go. But I’ll talk to you next week then, right?”
He made an “mhmm” noise. “Bye, Emme.”
“Bye!” She grinned at the phone, and giggles bubbled up inside her. In that moment, she actually decided to lend her sister the earbuds. The two of them were always fighting over them, even though they had been a present from Jayne for Emme. “Check on the chair,” she said, pointing vaguely.
Praying to the cosmos for luck, Emme went to go find her mother. Let’s get this over with, she thought with a grimace. Crush my dream, Mom. “Mom, we need to talk about some things.” Here goes nothing.
She logged into Twitter, dimly noting her now 4, 012 followers—most acquired from her meeting with Jaime. It was nice to have more followers, but it sure was depressing when she thought of why she had them in the first place. Maybe she’d just wallow in her misery and read Pierce the Veil’s tweets.
An hour ago, they’d tweeted about a livestream at 9:30 to promote their new album. Emme checked the clock, feeling a bit frantic. It was about 9:55. They were probably still online. Though Emme didn’t know what she’d even say, she pulled up a new tab on her computer and reflexively fixed her hair.
Thank goodness, they were still there, and Emme typed in her question, smiling uncontrollably at the sight of the guys. Jaime was on Vic’s lap, and Mike and Tony flanked them, Tony drumming his fingers on his leg. The video quality wasn’t great, but she didn’t care. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“It’s Emme,” she had written. “We met at the benefit concert last month. When is this private concert happening, anyway?” She waited anxiously for them to see the question. She also hoped that they remembered her. How embarrassing would it be if they didn’t?
Jaime broke into a huge grin as he leaned close to read the screen. “Emme?! Our backstage buddy?” he exclaimed.
Mike scratched his jaw and shrugged. “We’re going on our European tour in a week or so,” he answered, “so we won’t even be in the country.”
Why couldn’t Emme go see them in concert? Well, technically she had, at the benefit concert, but still.
“But”—here Vic pinched Jaime in the side—“if you, maybe, gave us your phone number, our people could call your people.” He looked directly at the webcam mischievously.
Jaime laughed and winked. “Something could be arranged.”
Emme’s stomach did the roller coaster thing again and she actually forgot her own cell phone number for a moment. Quickly, though, she pulled the computer closer and typed it in.
“Next question!” cried Jaime, who seemed more energetic than before.
Emme was tempted to stay online and watch, but she had creative writing homework to do. Besides, they’d call her. She could only hope it would be soon.
Her phone rang the next night, and Emme snatched it up at once, hoping that it was any one of the band members. She’d been jumpy and anxious all day, just waiting for them. Every call from a number she didn’t recognize, she’d answered anyway, making for several awkward conversations with telemarketers and political campaigners. “Hello?”
“This has to be Emme!” The voice sounded breathless.
Emme probably sounded just as breathless. “Jaime?”
“You don’t know how many numbers I had to go through to get to you. Tons of people gave us their phone numbers on livestream last night, and then of course we couldn’t be rude and hang up when we found out it wasn’t you. They’re fans, and we love our fans. Really, they’re great. But I recognized your voice at once.”
Emme drew the covers up over her legs and tucked them around her, smiling all the while. Jaime was so cute. “Oh, it’s me all right,” she replied, and then just sat there. She was perfectly content listening to him talk—or even breathe. Did that sound fangirl-ish?
“I was thinking that…” Jaime paused, and Emme could imagine him running his fingers through his hair. “You and your friend could come on tour with us—I mean, come see us. In Europe, you know,and just hang out, I guess.” He actually sounded nervous.
“I mean, I’d love to, but I don’t know if I could.” Emme knew her mother would never let her go to Europe. “Plane tickets are expensive,” she mourned.
“I’d pay,” he said indignantly. “And for your friend, too. I’m a gentleman.”
“Well—when? I’d need to figure things out, you know?”
There was another pause. “Meet us in London,” he said definitively. “That show is the 19th.”
Emme traced a swirly pattern on her knee and bit her lip. How would she and Jayne convince their parents? “I’ll try, but—“
“Emme,” Jaime interjected gently. She liked his gentle voice. “Just let me know, okay? I’ll call again next week and we’ll see.”
She burrowed deeper beneath the covers. “Okay. You’ll probably need to change your phone number because of all the fans you called, right?”
He groaned. “Probably.”
Mary, Emme’s younger sister, marched into the room and promptly began rummaging through Emme’s belongings. “Emme, where are those disco ball earbuds? I need them.”
Emme rolled her eyes. “Jaime, I’m sorry, but I need to go. But I’ll talk to you next week then, right?”
He made an “mhmm” noise. “Bye, Emme.”
“Bye!” She grinned at the phone, and giggles bubbled up inside her. In that moment, she actually decided to lend her sister the earbuds. The two of them were always fighting over them, even though they had been a present from Jayne for Emme. “Check on the chair,” she said, pointing vaguely.
Praying to the cosmos for luck, Emme went to go find her mother. Let’s get this over with, she thought with a grimace. Crush my dream, Mom. “Mom, we need to talk about some things.” Here goes nothing.