How to Save a Life

“So how’d it go?” Alex asks as you step back onto the bus.

“Great!” You lie. “I thought she was gonna be a bitch about it, but she’s cool with the whole thing. She probably just wants to get me out of the house for three months, but hey, whatever works, right?”

A relieved smile breaks over his face.

“Okay, awesome! Before we hit the road, we better stop at your house quick, though, you might want some clothes.”

You glance down at the wrinkled t-shirt and skinny jeans you are still wearing from the night before.

What if my mom hasn’t left for work yet? What if she sees me?

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” you laugh. You’ll check for her car, and if it’s there, you’ll tell him you forgot the keys and that you’ll just make do until you have a chance to buy new stuff.

The bus starts rolling, and in no time at all, you pull up in front of your house, which is blessedly mother-free. Letting yourself in, you take only ten minutes to pack up all the belongings that will fit in one enormous duffel bag, which you then proceed to lug back outside.

“Ready!” You call to the front of the bus as you set your bag on the bunk you have been given, and the vehicle pulls away from the sidewalk. Your bunk is Vinny’s old one- it’s in the crew section, on the bottom, and the closest bunk to Alex’s. You and he are separated by only a few feet of wall space.

Alex spends the day talking to you, giving you the rundown on how tours work. The tour you are on isn’t Warped Tour, so there are less complications, but there’s still a alot to remember. He explains the schedule that Flyzik posts as the front of the bus every day, how concerts work, and what your job will be as the new merch girl. He tells you to expect fan mail now that you have joined the ATL family.

“Those girls are rabid,” he explains. “We love them to death, each and every one of them, but they find out EVERYTHING. They’ll all know who you are by the end of the week.”

That night, you are anxiously awaiting the start of your first show. Flyzik takes some extra time out of his schedule to help you get set up, and go over a few details that Alex had missed earlier. You stand behind the counter of the merch table, nervously running your hands over the stacks of t-shirts and posters behind you, while the guys from the other bands laugh and joke around with each other.

“Hey,” says a guy from the Paradise Fears section, turning to you. “You’re All Time Low’s new chick, right? What happened to Vinny?”

“Oh, um, yeah, I’m y/n,” you reply, somewhat taken aback at this sudden conversation. “And Vinny had to leave the tour for a while. I don’t know too much yet, they just hired me today.”

“Wow, your first day. This should be fun,” he grins. “I’m Anthony, by the way. If you need any help, just yell. You’ll be swamped, but I usually don’t get too many customers.”

“Oh, thanks,” you say shyly.

Then, before you know it, the doors have opened, and fans, mostly of the teenage girl variety, flood the venue. Most head directly to the pit, but a few split off and veer towards you. Your transactions go smoothly- you have everything organized, you know how much everything costs due to a little cheat sheet that Flyzik had thoughtfully provided you with before the show. In no time, the first opening band is on stage and the merch area is empty.

When All Time Low comes on, it is a surreal experience for you. You’ve been a fan of theirs since Nothing Personal- not the longest time, but long enough. If it weren’t for them, you know you would be long dead. Therapy is your favorite song, and when Alex plays it tonight, you feel tears trickle down your cheeks as you think of where you could be right now if it weren’t for him- the morgue.

You are standing there, lost in thought, when the sound of your name snaps you from your reverie. The song is over, and Alex is speaking.

“…our new merch girl for the tour, so go buy stuff and give us your money after the show!” He yells, and the crowd cheers wildly. You feel the heart of your inner fangirl flutter.

Alex. Just. Said. My. Name. On. Stage.

You can’t stop smiling, but all too soon, the set is over. The encore is completed, Dear Maria sung by a thousand voices, and a mob is barreling towards you.

Ohgodheretheycome.

The next half hour is insane as fans push and shove each other to get to the table and thrust money in your face, trying to make their demands heard over everyone else’s. At first, you are overwhelmed, but you quickly build up a system and the time flies by until finally, everyone is gone.

You lean again the table with an exhausted sigh.

“Nice job, new girl,” says Anthony, smirking at you.

“What did I do wrong?” You ask, hurt. You thought you had done everything right!

“Nothing!” He says, backtracking quickly. “I was being serious!”

“Oh. Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Did Flyzik show you how to pack up?” He asks.

“A little, sort of,” you respond, and he finishes stacking his own merch against the wall and comes over to help you. In no time, you have the rest of the merch sorted and piled up neatly, and the money locked away safely.

As you bend down to pick up a bracelet that fell to the floor, you hear someone call your name. Turning around, you see Flyzik walking towards you, smiling broadly.

“You’re still alive!” He congratulates you and gives you a high five. “Last time we had a substitute merch person, they got literally overrun by fans and we lost a ton of stuff. But hey, I knew you would do a good job!”

You blush a little at the praise, and you both pick up boxes to cart out to the bus. By the time everything is stored and the area is clean, Alex, Jack, Zack, and Rian have finished talking to fans and are waiting for you just inside the bus, along with the rest of the crew.

“There’s our little star!” Alex cheers as you board the vehicle, and everyone claps.

Star? Coming from him? I wasn’t even on stage.

“I think this calls for some celebratory-” Jack reaches into a cabinet and rummages around for a moment before pulling out a bottle- “Jack Daniels!”

The men cheer even louder at the sight of the bottle. You aren’t twenty one, but if Jack is offering you a drink, then goddammit, you will drink. After all, what better way to start the best summer of your life?