Girl, I Don't Know What You See, You're More Than Just a Mannequin to Me

“If alcohol had been prescribed to aid this fluttering inside my chest
I could just relax and better yet
I’d be cured from the ache that ensues every time I wake
And I find that I’m still missing you
And these little lies you told,
The complex truth I hold
If it’s true that you were always through
Than who you are to push us back in time;
You tie me up inside, pick me up just to drop me
Watch me fall back down into the mess you made me

So, this is love
And if so, what’s the point of being in at all?
When it hurts, we let go

And I just can’t leave my heart with you
I will always do what you want me to
Well you’re everything, but you’re nothing new
I will always do what you want me to

Can I be blamed if this is what I need to get me through a tough time?
Which is all the time because when I’m with you, I’m alone
And when you’re gone I’m feeling just the same
With all you’re little games and all the stupid things you do,
Every time I think it through,
I get strong enough to burn the bridge from me to you
Made up my mind, take it back, let’s rewind
To a time when things between us weren’t so crazy
Looking back they always were that way

We know, this is love
I guess so, what’s the point of being in at all?
When it hurts, we let go

And I just can’t leave my heart with you
I will always do what you want me to
Well you’re everything, but you’re nothing new
I will always do what you want me to

There’s a breakdown, a miscommunication
Because I just can’t be everything you want
If there’s a brighter side to this then I just can’t see it;
Is there something that I’ve missed?

And I just can’t leave my heart with you
I will always do what you want me to
Well you’re everything, but you’re nothing new
I will always do what you want me to

What you want me to”

I finished singing and grinned out at the flashing lights in the concert of our hometown show.

As always, as the lyrics flew from my mouth, I wonder if I wrote that song about Alex or Peyton.

Probably Alex.

*

“Finally!” Ree cheers, hi-fiving Pete who had just walked into the room.

Pete laughs and drops a manila folder onto the conference table.

“Who wants breakfast?” he asks us.

Emmie groans, “Not again, Pete! I’ve got a headache, can’t you just get to the point already?”

Pete laughs again and opens the folder.

“I guess, Emmie, but only because I’m just as exited,” he says, before taking a big chunk of his apple.

We all cheer.

He sets the apple on a napkin beside his coffee – how he could stomach apples and coffee at the same time was beyond me – and dug through the folder, pulling out a piece of poster paper. He sliced the tape that held the top and bottom together and unfolded it, showing it to us.

On it showed a picture of two people covered in paint and kissing. At the bottom was the band name written in that schmanzy way they always do it. Below that, just a bit smaller “Summer Of My Painted On Heart tour” was written to where it looked like a third grader had painted it on with blotches of black on it.

“Oh my god, are you fucking serious?” I asked, jaw on the floor. “This is our tour?”

“Headline,” Pete grins.

All of us whoop and cheer as he puts away the poster.

“The days are June 6th through August 17th,” Pete continues.

“Who’s all going?” Erix asked.

“The Maine, All Time Low, and Dreaming Of Lilian,” Pete answers.

Did I hear right?

Did I hear All Time Low?

My stomach dropped.

*

“I don’t get why you have to be so blah about Alex joining us on tour,” Emmie said in the hotel later that night.

“Alex and I didn’t exactly end on good terms,” I told her. “The last time he saw me, I was leaving the tent with Peyton.”

“Well…it’s all over the fan websites, isn’t it? In fan fictions about Brynn and Erix and Abner? He has to know Peyton and you are back together by now.” Emmie curls herself more into the blankets.

“I’m sure that Alex doesn’t read fan fictions about Erix, Brynn, and Abner, Em,” I said, giving her an annoyed look.

“Alex loves you, he would have checked up on you somewhere,” she turns up her nose.

I sigh.

“You’ve talked about Peyton in interviews,” she rattled on.

“Uh huh,” I say, barely listening.

“I think there are even fan fictions about Peyton,” she continues.

“Seriously? You think so?” I asked.

“Well…yeah. Peyton’s attractive, Cayne,” Emmie says, quirking a brow. “He has his own set of fans. Have you ever been on the Fuck Yeah! Peyton Starks page?”

“I didn’t even know there was one,” I told her honestly, frowning slightly.

“Well there is one,” she says.

“Good for him,” I shrug, just as the hotel room door opens.

Speak of the devil.

“McDonalds in celebration,” Peyton cheers, entering the hotel room with Darren. He gives me a cocky grin whilst setting the food down on the hotel room table.

“Finally! You took forever!” Emmie says.

I curled into the blanket, smiling and asking Peyton to bring the food over here while thinking about Emmie’s words.

It was stupid, though.

Alex probably doesn’t even love me anymore.