Viva La Gloria I: World Tour

I ducked along the shadows by the stage. Amazingly remaining unseen. I walked up the stairs casually after that. Disappearing back stage. I went looking for an place to hide until tomorrow night. When I'd be attending again for free. I almost felt bad about streaming in on Green Day's talent and not paying for it. But in the end I suppose I will for all the lifelong trauma I'll suffer doing this.
This backstage was far better than that scrappy place in Denver. There were no shipping containers and crates everywhere. It was still an concrete floor. But an dressing room was arranged at the far end of the room. The door hung slightly open. The splinter of light from inside lighting the area around an fraction. The room was very dark and kind of creepy being here all alone. I slipped silently through the dressing room door and into the pale light on the other side. I closed the door behind me. Risky as it was being in here at all, I think it will make an good hiding place. Hiding in plain sight. It was an big white room with tables lined along the right wall. Lightbulbs lit up around the long mirrors. The tables cluttered with hair and makeup stuff. I looked at my own reflection in the dim mirror. Nothing has changed. I'm still me.
I turned and touched the racks of clothing lined up along the opposite wall. There would be nowhere to hide in this room, I continued through the narrow doorway into the next room. It was also white. An beige couch had it's back to me and there was an matching recliner across from it. An closed door to the left. I pulled it open— oh joy. Another closet. I sighed and shut the door. Turning and continuing around the room. There was one last white door, it hung open, revealing an bed covered in white blankets and pillows. An vanity and an flat screen hung on the wall. There had also been one in the living room and dressing room. Pretty cool that it's all connected. Just needs some windows in here. Its so clammy.
I sighed heavily, in an annoyed way as I turned around and headed back for the living room. To the closet. Since there were no other hiding places available in this forsaken place, I opened the door and concealed myself away in brightly colored button down shirts that looked like they belonged to Tré. It wouldn't surprise me any if they were.
I sank sadly onto the floor. Waiting for something, I really don't know what to expect. I might, if I've got the guts, hide out in the bus instead. But it's so far- and I'm lazy now after all this travel. I leaned my head back again. Tiered. How in the hell can I be tired? I closed my eyes and imagined the future. My hiding in the closet sentence would be up soon enough. And I can't wait for it!
I fell asleep. Dreaming slightly. A little too tired to go to much trouble creating an quality dream. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in an ball on the closet floor and continue the dream anyways. It was an confusing dream, and I entirely forgot what it was about the second my eyes flashed open. I heard the tv on outside the door. Mike and Jason's muffled voices didn't share with me their dialog. I couldn't hear anyone else among the room. But I should be happy about that, less people active means less people wanting to peek in the closet.
“I'm going to bed.” Billie's muffled voice announced. I stupidly, blew an kiss goodnight at the door. I stretched out as much as I could in the cramped closet. I closed my eyes to force myself to sleep. I'd already gotten well over my fill of sleep today. But the better rested I am, the more aware I can be tomorrow at the concert. I smiled, amazed as I quickly slipped out of consciousness.
I dreamt that I was home. Walking up the cracked concrete sidewalk up from my house. The sun reflected off it blinding me with it's bright whiteness. I was wearing what I always wear when Im home. Black hightops, short denim shorts and an dark blue tank top. I walked for a ways until the scene in my head shifted and I stood on an porch. The porch in front of my parents house. I'd been there once so long ago... We'd had our last big blowout. I was hesitant. Certain that they'd hate me if I'd knocked. But if I was... Home. Surely I succeeded at my mission and was here to tell them that. Unless I'd failed and was here for that same reason. I reached up to knock and froze. I turned around and walked away. Into the wall of blackness behind me. It was dark, the guilt weighed down on me. Pressuring me to surrender. I knew what they'd say if I even tried to knock. But I could at least try... Couldn't I? I turned. Searching the smoky blackness for the way back and out of here. To certain safety. I ran pointlessly around in the darkness. Constantly Tripping over my own shoes. I eventually ran out of breath and dropped to the ground. Pointless sobs escaped my chest. Filling the empty still air with echoes. For miles it was nothing. Absolute nothingness. There is no future. Only past. And it's high time I come to face it. Even if it requires aid from my music. From Green Day.
I looked up and called into the blackness “Ok ok! I'll go, I'll go face the past and stop running from it.” I cringed as the words escaped my mouth. The darkness remained. When nothing changed I dropped my head into my hands. Tears soaked my hands, I risked one last look up to see the smoke retreating to wherever it had come from. The scraggly grass of my mothers lawn grew up under the soles of my shoes and I was filled with an warm feeling of familyness. I haven't felt this in years. Not since the warm summers I'd lived here as an child. I looked up to see three tall figures. I stumbled backwards onto the ground and stayed down. The sun slowly broke through the thick clouds. Their ashen faces appearing. Billie, Mike and Tré looked down at me sadly. Their expressions grave. Until Billie hardly made an movement toward me, offering his hand to me. I looked at it in hesitation before reaching for it. He pulled me to my feet but his hand still lingered on my fingers and he made and slight movement to the right. Leading me through the remaining mist. Mike's dark figure led the way a few feet ahead of us. Tré wasn't hyper like he should be. Like I'd grown up seeing him as. Their expressions flat and sober as we walked. The only sound was the sound of our shoes crushing earth debris into the soft dirt. Goosebumps rose on my arms and I could swear that this was no dream.
We walked out onto an sandy beach with tall shrubs. I looked around, confused. I knew this place and it wasn't exactly the place I'd expected to see after all I'd been through.
I turned to Billie and found my voice. “What about my parents and the truth?” my voice quivered.
He smiled slightly. Placing an hand on my shoulder whispering “It's all fine now. They understand. Now sleep Gloria.”
I tried to argue it. But he put an finger to my lips and shushed me quietly. Turning to follow his friends back into the fog. Disappearing. Was he right? Do they really understand and everything is fine? How can he be? He's nothing more than an figment of my imagination! He told me to sleep, I should at least listen to that...

I woke sometime in the morning. I checked my phone: seven. I sighed and dropped it back onto the floor of the closet. There was no end to everything was there? The pressure and stress of what was going on back home. I wanted to escape from it. Run away forever and let the past become an distant memory. Just as it was now. Only farther.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up a little straighter. My neck was sore and stiff. I bent it in an circle before pulling my legs under me to sit cross legged. Waiting for the time to pass. But I really did grow curious of what dream Billie had meant. I quickly turned on my phone and logged onto Facebook. Waiting for it to load, I gasped when I saw I had one message. I clicked on it and waited for it to open. It was from my mom. Weird huh?
I read through it. It said that she was writing me because she had been trying my homophone for days and I never picked up. The end was an real tear jerker- she said that if I didn't answer, that it was probably because I was busy living my dreams.
I contained the tears. Knowing someone would look in here for sure if they heard some chick sobbing in the closet. I wiped away stray tears on my wrist and looked down at the bright screen. I turned it off before I could read it again. Brand the message into my brain that I'd fucked up but they were still supporting me. Sometimes I just don't get family. I mean, they forgive you for just abbot every stupid mistake you pull. No matter how damn dumb it is, they bring you back with open arms. And to be honest, I don't think I'm worthy of forgiveness.