I Want You Just The Way You Are.

"Come on in," John said, as he held open the tour bus door for me.
"Why thank you sir," I smiled politely. Immediately when I walked in, a ruckus had already been going on inside. The rest of the boys along with their tour manager Larry, and their merch guy Peter, were all playing a round of Mario Kart.
"No, no, no no... FUCK YOU KENNEDY!" Garrett's rage increased, causing his eyes to go wide and stand up off the couch.
"That's what you get little faggot! HA!" Kennedy laughed.
"Guys when will it by my tur- Oh hey, Johno? Oooooh, who's la chica?" Pat turned his head giving all attention to John and I when we entered.
"Oh, uh, She's just- well...." John paused, scratching his forearm.
"Hey you! I remember ya! You came to chill? Come play Mario Kart with us!" Garrett glanced over his shoulder, taking a quick look at me.
"Hey Garrett!" I spoke softly.
"Oh yeah yeah! You, hey! Pat, she was that girl you said you felt bad for... The one in the middle of One Pack of- FUCK NO NO NO FUCK YOU JARED... One Pack of Smokes!" Kennedy's eyes were glued to the screen, shoulder to shoulder with Jared, as he told Pat about me.
"You guys were talking about me?" I looked down at my feet.
"Oh, no no, not in a bad way! I promise!" Pat stood up, reassuring me that it was nothing bad... I think.
"Hi, I'm Pat." He reached his hand out to me to shake.
I took it, then replied. "Cassadee," with a small grin.
"Say hi to Cassadee, everyone!" John shouted at the distracted boys playing the Nintendo 64.
"Hey, Cassadee," They all said in unison.
John took my hand and led me to the back near the bunks and kitchenette.
"So, we got Dos Equis, Jack Daniels or Bourbon. Pick your poison." John said, while sifting through the mini-fridge.
I stood behind him, leaning against the small granite counter. Honestly, this was never part of my plan. I was never intentionally gonna come into their tour bus and hang out with them; I thought I was just going to see them live and then go home. So I stayed calm and took a Dos Equis.
"You sure you can handle alcohol, darlin'? You're fifteen and a very tiny girl," He took a sip of his Bourbon.
"I'm used to drinking. I do it all the time to get my mind off things,"
"Oh yeah? Like what? If you don't mind me asking..." He murmured.
"It's fine... And well," I started off.
"Oh, um, here, let's go to the back room. It's much more private." John turned me around and led me to this so called 'back room'. There was a couch wrapping around the whole back of the tour bus, a large TV, and a small bar area. John shut the door as I looked around, inspecting the room.
"Wow, this is nice," I complimented the bus.
"Thanks," He laughed. "Come sit and tell me what you were gonna say."
I took a seat next to him and took a deep breath.
"Alright, so back in '09, when I was like, twelve, I was bullied. Constantly. I was really pudgy, but no one ever gave me a break. So, I sort of resorted to cutting. Yeah, I was young, but, I had no idea how else to release that pain and hatred, you know?" I started.
John's eyebrows raised, fascinated on what else I had to say.
"So that's when I discovered you guys... The Maine. You boys have changed me life in such a positive way. Look," I pulled up my sleeve, showing him my many scars of my ugly past.
John grabbed my arm, inspecting the dark scars.
"Cassadee.... This is-"
"I've stopped. Don't worry. I haven't cut in like, a year." I assured him. He gave me a small nod and I continued.
"I'm pretty sure I've grown up a lot faster than everyone else my age. I have to take care of my mom, because she's a much bigger mess than I am. I already work a job at a library across from my house. I cook and clean. And because all of this, I started to drink. To loosen up, and to relax a little," I took a big sip, letting the alcohol leave a burning feeling down my throat.
"Wow, that's.... Amazing. You're an amazing person, Cassadee," He leaned in.
My heart skipped a beat.
"Thanks,"
"No seriously. When I was your age, I never had so much responsibility like you. You're an inspiration, you know?"
"Well I wouldn't exactly say that," I shook my head and rubbed my forearm.
Anxiety attack.
"You are so-" John stopped himself.
"So what?"
"So beautiful," He looked up at me.
"I uh, I think I have to go now."
This time, this anxiety attack was terrible. Never once has it been this bad.
I stood up and started for the front of the bus, but he grabbed my bony wrist.
"Why? Where?" He asked.
"Home, and because it's um... Late. Bye, John. Thanks for a great night," I pulled away and walked out.
John called me beautiful? What? Why though? I'm not. I'm an underweight self-harming freak. No one in their complete minds would ever call me beautiful. And most definitely not him. He couldn't. As much as I loved hearing that come from his mouth, he still couldn't. It's illegal. This could be dangerous.

Many thoughts ran through my mind as I walked home in the complete darkness. Mad that I had to leave, Sad that I walked off from John, Worried that my mom would find out, and maybe, just maybe, happy that John called me beautiful.
'Stop', I had to keep telling myself. John was a successful bandmember. He couldn't have feelings like that for a silly fifteen year old.

I finally reached home and snuck up to my bedroom successfully. I threw myself in bed and tried to reiterate every single event of tonight. Then I remembered; my picture with John.