Pictures and Some Memories

I may be dumb, but I'm not a dweeb.

I'm just a sucker with no self esteem!'

"Alex," I mumbled from where I lay in bed. "I hardly ever get to sleep past six a.m. these days, please don't ruin it for me today."

"Why in the fuck are you waking up at six a.m. every day?" he asks as he brushes his teeth. I groan and pull my pillow over my head, annoyed. I never could get any sleep around any of these people, no matter how hard I tried.

"Oh, I dunno, you enjoy when I do catering runs and knowing which stage you're playing, right?"

He rinses and sits on the foot of the bed and says, "Well, yeah, but do you really wake up at six a.m. for all of that shit?"

"Don't tell him I'm saying this, but it's Flyzik's stupid fucking alarm going off that started it," I sigh, "and I contemplate killing him every time I hear it."

Alex laughs. "You're still not much of a morning person on your birthday, are you?"

I groan again. "Can we not mention the fact that I'm old?"

"24 isn't old, Andi!"

"Alex, you're barely going to be 23 in December. I'm old."

"Is she going on about that again?" Carly says from the bathroom. "I swear to God, she's mental."

"Right here, Carly," I say in annoyance, although I'm smiling. "Where's Jack?" I then ask, noticing that he wasn't sleeping on the other bed or in the room at all, for that matter.

"He went to Taco Bell," the couple respond at the same time.

"Taco Bell is closed at this time of day."

"Oh, you poor thing," Carly says as she sits on the other side, her hair still in a towel. "You spent too much time complaining about Flyzik to notice that it's nearly noon."

My eyes widen. "What? Violet's picking me up at 12:30! Why did you let me sleep this long?"

Carly and Alex shared a look again. God, I hated and envied their unspoken communication all at the same time. They could have an entire conversation with only a couple of facial expressions. That came with being together for nearly eight years, I guess, but it was still annoying. "Because we knew you'd be a crotchety little redhead if we woke you up before ten."

"Really? That's the word choice you've decided was perfect to describe me? Fuck you, Alex."

This only makes him laugh. He could never decipher when I was truly angry or if I was being sarcastic until it was too late. Luckily for him, I was kidding. For now, anyways. "Love you too, Andi."

I push the duvet off of my body and get out of bed, my feet hitting the cool hardwood floor with an audible thump. This hotel was luxurious compared to the cramped bus I'd spent the last few months in. I mean, the bus was great, and much better than the van we used in the early days. But sometimes, it felt really nice to sprawl out in an actual bed.

I quickly grab my clothes out of my backpack, my toiletries, and get into the shower. This, too, was so luxurious. The bus had a shower, thankfully, but you couldn't leave it running or else the water would run out too fast. The tank had enough for four people to shower, but only if you did a quick military style shower. Needless to say, I've sacrificed washing my long hair until I found a venue with a normal shower, a water hose, or one of our rare times in a hotel. Still, since I was running extremely late, I had to rush this shower, although I did get to properly clean my hair for once.

And it showed, too. No longer dull and lifeless, it looked shiny and healthy again, much to my relief. I took the time to use the hairdryer on it since I was so thankful that I didn't have to tie it up for the first time in a week.

"Andi, are you... decent?" Alex asks through the door. I couldn't help but laugh; he reminded me of my older brother Ryan so much at times like this. I felt a small pang of sadness then, since he wasn't in town for me to see this time.

I composed myself before I could get upset and answered before he walked in, a hand over his eyes. "Alex, I'm dressed, you dork."

He tentatively took his hand away from his eyes, sighing in relief when he saw I told the truth. "Your friend Violet called and said that she was downstairs, so Carly volunteered to bring her up since she needed to get something to drink from the Starbucks in the lobby. However, I didn't answer when Loverboy called, so here."

He hands me my iPhone with a small smirk, seeing that the name annoyed me to no end. "I really wish you wouldn't call him that."

"His creepily obsessive ways can be named far worse things. Remember that, Andi."

I roll my eyes as Alex walks away, dreading the phone call ahead. "He" was Larkin Deyes, my on and off boyfriend back in New York. We met my last year of university, at my very first independent gallery. He was introduced to me by his father, Jonathon, who is a very prominent art buyer and dealer in the city. Larkin was following in his footsteps and learning the ropes, but took one look at me and knew he had more intentions than buying my art. He took me out a week later, and charmed me with his strong New Yorker accent, sculpted cheekbones and his knowledge of the arts. However, that charm always seemed to disappear whenever he got upset with decisions I made, whether it be signing onto a three month tour to selling a piece for only 500 bucks. It'd been a very... interesting three years with him. I truly loved and adored him, but he knew exactly how to push me away, and I hated it because he also knew how to pull me back to him. He wasn't exactly happy that I wasn't thoroughly miserable when he and I were apart, and I couldn't blame him-- but I was shamelessly in love with touring and that part of me would never change.

I take a breath. Better to get it over with now rather than later.

"Larkin Deyes," he answers in a monotone. Sometimes I wondered how he even got clients with a tone like that upon answering. But now was not the time to question his line of work.

"Larkin, it's me."

"Andi, babe, there you are. I thought you were ignoring me for a second there."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Not at all, Larkie. I was just showering. I've got plans for my day off."

"Which city are you in today?"

"Anaheim," I answer tentatively, knowing exactly how he would react. He knew that I avoided Huntington Beach because of my ex, but he didn't know the extent of the reason why. I hoped to keep it that way. I hated talking about him, anyways. Still, he didn't like it when I was close by in fear that I'd run into him, although, if that happened, I'd turn and get the fuck out of there. Why he was worried, I'd never know.

"You're in your hometown?" he says, sounding less than thrilled.

"Technically, yes," I reply. "I've made plans with a few of my old friends--"

"Andi!" I hear that familiar voice call into the room then, an involuntary smile of relief creeping onto my face.

"And one of them has just arrived at my hotel now," I add happily.

"Be careful. Make sure you steer clear of that ex boyfriend of yours, okay? By the way, happy birthday, babe. Hope you have fun."

And with that, the line went dead, without an "I love you" or a goodbye, even. That irked me to no end.

"There you are!" Violet grins as she opens the door to the bathroom, throwing her arms around me. I wrap my arms around the slender blue haired girl I missed so much and squeeze, unable to help myself. The last time I had seen her was on the second half of last year's Warped Tour, and that was an adventure in itself as I tried to avoid him. She squeezed, too, nearly in tears.

"Vi, don't cry!" I told her, reaching for a tissue to hand her.

"Its not my fault that you suck at keeping in touch!" she says, carefully wiping her eyes as not to smudge her makeup.

"We were on the other side of the world for the last three months! Sorry that Sprint hasn't caught up with their international plan yet."

She laughs. "My God, it's good to see you. You look great."

"So do you!" I grinned, just as Carly and Alex both aww'd.

I look over Violet's shoulder and glared. "We're heading out, munchkin. You got your key?" Carly asks sweetly.

"Yes."

"And your stuff is packed for bus call later on?" Alex adds.

"Yes, Mom and Dad, I've got everything. Go do your interviews now."

They laugh as they give quick hugs and leave the room. "Violet, stop laughing, you were exactly like them in high school, but worse!"

"Not denying that. The guys almost hated me the first few years before they hired Larry," she says, perching herself onto the granite countertop.

The guys... I hadn't seen them since their last show in New York, nearly nine months ago, and like I mentioned before, that was a stretch. It really sucked to have to go to extreme measures in order to see my old friends, but it was what had to be done. If I saw him in person again... I didn't know what I'd do, honestly. And it'd stay that way as long as humanly possible.

"How are they, by the way?"

"Ask them yourself. Actually, I'm surprised you haven't seen this in stores yet," Violet says, pulling out a magazine from her large purse.

I read out the title on the Alternative Press with a proud smile. "Avenged Sevenfold: Appetite for Destruction" underneath a picture of the whole band. My heart stopped for a second as my eyes saw Zacky again, tracing over him quickly before moving on to Matt, Brian, and Jimmy.

"You know, Short Shit doesn't seem so short here," I say, referring to Johnny, but my voice cracks and betrays me. I instantly felt like shit; I had a boyfriend and yet, every time I saw Zack, I still ended up with a rush of guilt all these years later. "This looks older, no?"

"It is. But it's the only issue that AP had consistently stocked shelves for months in a long time. This is seven months old, and the picture? At least a year," she says, taking it back. "It still blows my mind that it's so popular. I still see each of them as knuckle heads who picked their noses in elementary school."

I force a lighthearted laugh, hoping it'll change my mood. "That's great, though. I'm extremely proud of them."

And that was the truth. For them to go from no fans to millions in only six years was incredible. The band's they once looked up to were now asking them to tour with them, and they were being named "Best New Rock Band" by every critic and news media everywhere I looked. Of course it was awesome. It was what I hoped for All Time Low to achieve in their genre one day.

"Well, are you ready? Jimmy's about to tear my house up because he's so impatient to see you."

"Ten minutes, and we'll be out," I promise, applying foundation as I speak.

"I'm counting down the seconds," she teases, watching the hands of her rose gold watch intently.

I only took five. I grabbed my things and placed them near Carly and Alex's so I wouldn't forget them when bus call came around later on. Slinging my purse over my shoulder and pushing my Ray Ban Clubmasters onto my face, I lead the way down to the parking lot, completely ready to go back to where it all began.

I can't help but gasp out loud at the car that she unlocked with a button on her keys. Sleek black with tinted windows, the two door Mercedes E Class Coupe was beautiful. I couldn't help but feel that I'd seen her with it, before, even though I hadn't been back in so long. "It was my dad's," she says suddenly, and that's where it clicked into place. "He gave it to me a month before he passed away. Said that he was proud of me for opening my own dance studio and knew how much I loved the car. I just recently started driving it around."

It was all so clear now. He had passed away last January, only six months ago. I was invited to the wake, but I had just arrived in Spain with the band when I received the news and couldn't get a flight that I could afford to arrive in time. "I'm so sorry,Vi, I--"

"Don't be," she says as we climb inside. "He's in a better place now."

The moment passes and before I know it, we're on the highway, singing along to Pawn Shop by Sublime, already transported to how effortless and easy our friendship was before adult life smacked us both around. Our friends Charlotte, Cara, Serena, and myself were all on our high school's drill team our junior (or, in Cara's case, senior) year of high school, but by the end of that year, Violet was the only one that stuck with dance and made it her career. Fed up with being forced to teach at a studio that didn't value her as a person nor dancer, she worked hard for the past three years to open her own, where she now taught young children learning for the first time to adults looking for a new experience how to dance with a select handful of other talented dancers by her side. She was so passionate as she spoke about it, gesturing wildly and ultimately making the traffic we were driving through much more bearable. What I liked even more was that when I finally told her about what had happened since we were last together-- which really only consisted of touring and my latest gallery-- she was genuinely interested, too. Not to say that my other friends weren't, but sometimes I worry that she and I have drifted too far that she was no longer really invested in what I did. My paranoia was proven wrong, though, thankfully.

"Whoa," I said as we drove into the side of town that I hadn't seen since I lived with my dad towards the end of my time here in Huntington Beach. "Don't tell me you guys got the house to match, too!"

"We did. Coincidentally, it's only a few houses down from your dad and stepmom," she says as we drive by what I called the "McMansion", also known as my parent's house. "And yes, it feels fantastic running into Mr. Lowe at the grocery store and bragging about how much success he said we'd never achieve."

I laughed. Mr. Lowe was our principal during high school, and hated all of us with every fiber of his being. We treated him like shit simply because he'd never given any of us a chance otherwise. I let go of my resentment for his slipping of my plan to keep New York a secret until I was ready to announce it years ago, but it still burned me to think that he had the last laugh.

Now look who's laughing now. "Is he still principal?"

She nods. "Johnny gave him plenty of hell when we left, though, along with my brother Joseph and Jimmy's sister, Kat."

"How is your brother?" I ask as the gate in front of a large stone house opens, and she pulls through it.

"Well, Jimmy and I are going to be officially in-laws soon," she grins. "He and Kat hooked up almost right after you left. They get married next week."

"Whoa! You're kidding?! That's awesome. I wish I could be here to see it..." I found myself saying before I trailed off, staring at the house before me. The garage alone was spacious and held two other cars, as well as a motorcycle with enough room to house tools and storage.

"I do, too," She agrees as we exit the car. "Now, are you going to continue gaping or do you want the grand tour of the Sanders estate?"

I compose myself for the millionth time that day and nod. "We better hurry before Jimmy tries to steal you away."

The house was spectacular. The place screamed Matt and Violet so much it was almost overwhelming. From the movie posters and framed photos to the colors of the sofas and window treatments, they'd made their mark, especially with their master bedroom. Below, in the basement, was a recording studio still being built. I was in awe, no doubt about it. It was weird, though. Whenever I went over to my parent's house as a teen, I always felt awkward and out of place because everything was so expensive and I was used to the bare minimum. Now, especially since moving to New York, I felt more accustomed to it because I knew that people worked hard for what they had, and it clearly showed in their home.

After seeing the house, we retreat to the large kitchen, where she grabs me a drink and some chips. "Matt, go fuck yourself and get your own beer, damn it! Its not my... Holy shit, Little Red!"

I squealed as Jimmy picked me up into one of his signature bear hugs, something I've missed dearly lately. "Oh my Lord, Jimmy, I can't breathe!"

"You'll live," he says, continuing to squeeze the life out of me. "Explain yourself. Why haven't I heard anything about my favorite redhead in nearly three months?!"

I rolled my eyes. "You know, this touring gig I've got took me to Europe and Asia and a bunch of other places. Sprint still hasn't fixed their international plan, so you're not the only one that didn't hear from me."

"Seriously, Andi, just switch companies already," I hear another voice say as I'm finally released. I grin as I make eye contact with Cara, Jimmy's fiancee. "I don't think I can stand wondering about you for months without end."

"You won't have to," I replied. "After this tour I'm on break for a long time."

She gathers me into a hug, rivaling Jimmy's on the tightness scale. Her long blonde hair was swept over one shoulder, exposing her sunkissed skin. The woman was so gorgeous that it was almost hard to look at her. Jimmy lucked out with Cara. She was so sweet and kind hearted, just like him. You could feel the love she had for you when she hugged you, that's how sweet she was. "Does that mean we'll see you more?" she asks, pulling away.

"I hope so," Jimmy says as he pops the cap off of a bottle of Bud Light.

"Me, too. You're both already a hell of a lot more calm with her here," Violet says, smirking when they both shoot her a glare. "Now, come on, Dee, you've got a beer waiting with your name on it."

I step outside into the warm afternoon sun, immediately putting my sunglasses back on due to how bright it was. I soon see that the glare is from the sunlight hitting their infinity pool, which was a beauty in itself. I loved the way sunlight looked on the water, like how the Nevermindalbum cover looked. It was one of my favorite things to try and recreate. I was itching to do it again.

"Andi! It's good to see you," Matt says, stepping toward me and tearing me away from my stare at the pool. We share a hug as well, and I was positive after that I had bruised ribs at that point. I'd forgotten how much they all actually enjoyed hugging. I was so used to getting tackled by Carly that I forgot that it wasn't normal, which, the thought alone made me want to laugh. Nothing about any of my friends were even remotely normal, but I loved it all the same.

After toasting to my birthday, I take a swig of the Bud Light and relax into the patio chair underneath me. Music from the local radio station fills the air as we all chat, creating a relaxing atmosphere as the classic rock songs play. My friends were just as busy as I was, if not more. Cara had just started a position at Vogue Magazine where she dressed the models for for Vogue and Teen Vogue. This had been her dream since our days on the drill team together. She always had great taste and knew fashion as well as I knew artwork; it was in her blood, her soul. She practically glowed as she spoke about it. Matt and Jimmy also announced that they were going to be home for roughly a year, writing, recording, and relaxing after the hectic three years they'd just been through.

"What about you, Andi? What's life been like for our Little Red?" Jimmy asks.

"Insane," I shrug, laughing slightly. "The band shot a live DVD and they're releasing it in August, so that's why we've been touring so heavily lately, to promote it."

"Do you make an appearance?"Cara asks, leaning forward in interest.

I nod. "All of the crew is featured, but I help narrate and tell the story, you know? 'Cause I've been there so long and all... Sorry, I don't want to sound like I'm bragging, by the way, because I'm not..."

"Don't apologize. You're like what the Berrys are to us, you know? They've worked for and helped us out before we even became a real band," Matt says, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You're an important piece to their puzzle, which is good, Dee."

"What about your gallery? What's the deal with that?" Violet asks.

"It's been about four months since my last one, with me being on tour and all. Its really hard to work when you drive over potholes every five minutes."

"Don't I know it?" Cara mutters, referring to her designs. I grin, happy to see someone who shared my frustration.

I continue on, telling them about how hard it is to attract attention in a city like New York. There was so much competition that if you didn't even have a secure location, you'd never make it. I lucked out with my 1200 square foot space in Manhattan, snagging it just as it went onto the market. I've slaved and put hours into making fliers and promoting my work, but God damn, if you're not already a famous artist, no one even tries to notice you. Unless, of course, you have ties to my boyfriend. I was never proud of it, but if I mention his name in conversation to people in that realm, they seem to perk up and take more interest in me and my work. If I mention that he'll be representing buyers at the gallery, they flock. It was horrible, but unfortunately true. I told them that I was starting to get sick of wishing people would give me a chance not because I was with a certain person, but that they were genuinely curious about my work.

I hadn't meant to go on a long tangent about it. Carly and Alex knew about it as it happened, so they already knew my disappointment and then some. I did feel relieved, however, after I finished talking about it with someone other than who I usually spoke with.

"Have you ever considered moving locations?" Cara asks as soon as I'm finished. "Like, from lower Manhattan to like, Brooklyn, or wherever there's a more prevalent scene?"

I nodded. "I've tried the Village, Brooklyn, Uptown. Anywhere I could afford, really. It just got more expensive as I went, though, so I had to compensate by touring more. It also doesn't help that I don't feel comfortable commissioning my pieces for more than a couple hundred bucks and that Larkin's fuckin' pressuring me about how I need to learn to negotiate... To me, seeing someone like my work enough to give me a couple hundred is awesome. But to him, he wants to see at least a thousand before he's even interested..."

"Obviously he doesn't know who you really are, then, if he's pressuring you about something that's against your personality," Violet says. "Oh, God, the fucker's pissed me off for you. What a douche."

"Don't let him dictate your career, damn it. You do what's comfortable with you, not what this pompous asshole tells you. Andi, you know that you're not materialistic and that's awesome, okay? I don't care that he's your boyfriend at this point. I know you better than to let some guy control who you are," Cara adds, shocking all of us. She was the kind of girl that hadn't heard a single curse word until she met Matt, Jimmy, Brian, Charlotte, and Violet in middle school. Even in high school, she never swore. So, an outburst like this was rare, and definitely a bit angry at that.

"Don't look at me like that! I'm completely serious," she says after, the three of us staring at her like she was a mythical creature.

"Jimmy, poke her and make sure she's real," I stage whisper. "This is almost as rare as finding a copy of The Notebook at Best Buy on Valentine's Day."

She picks up a tortilla chip and throws it at me, but her aim is so far off that it lands on the smooth concrete below us, where Vi and Matt's golden retriever, Bella, comes over and eats it without a second to spare. "She's definitely real. She can't throw worth a shit," Violet grins.

Cara finally laughs, but still has that look of fierce passion about what she said in her eyes. I didn't address it, though, mainly because I didn't want to admit that she was right. I had been letting him run my career because I was too scared to really do it myself. Things would change, though, if it was the last thing I did.

The topic changes, and we all enjoy a few more beers as we exchange one of our favorite things: tour stories. I got to hear about the time Jimmy got arrested in Amsterdam and got maced in the process, then proceeded to play a show without washing it off and sweating the mace back into his eyes. I also got to hear about how they'd toured with Metallica and a few of the other bands they looked up to when they were younger, which was awesome. I told them about how ATL and crew started a bet on how many bras the guys would end up with on the end of the European tour (917, to be exact, and I guessed 920) and how I won five hundred bucks. We all had so many unique ones to share that none of noticed that the early afternoon quickly drifted into mid evening until I got a text message reminder about the crew meeting Flyzik was having at nine thirty that night.

"Shit, do you really have to go already?" Jimmy sighs as he gets up to hug me. "We didn't even get to dunk you into the pool, damn it."

"There's still time," Matt offers with a sly grin, but I shoot him a death glare and stop him in his tracks.

"Try anything at all, and I will bury you six feet under," I threaten as I go to hug Cara.

"I'm gonna miss my little fireball," she sighs as she releases me a moment later. "Keep in touch, damn it, and keep an eye on your mail when you finally get home."

"I promise I will do both," I smile before following Matt inside. He was telling me something funny as we headed for the kitchen, where I'd out my bag down, and I raced inside after, grabbing it and turning for the exit.

However, when I did turn around, I came face to face with the man I've been avoiding since the day I left. Actually, we weren't that close; he was standing in the entryway well over ten feet away, talking to Violet, his tall figure towering ever so slightly over hers. I took in his cropped jet black hair, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, those bright jade green eyes, those tattooed, muscular arms. I was frozen, unable to move, unable to speak.

Violet steps aside and I see that Zacky is holding a child's car seat, and what seems to be a toddler napping away in peaceful bliss. It didn't take but a second to match that mess of dark hair on his head to Zack's, or the same sleeping face I remembered from when we were together, which, in turn, only made it harder to breathe than before.

Zacky has a child, I thought over and over, unable to comprehend the sight I was seeing. He has a child and is married and I'm not even able to say his name without feeling like I've done the world wrong.

I'm forced out of my state when Violet gently grabs my arm and calls out a goodbye. I can't help but cast one last selfish look behind me, and find that his jade green eyes are now following my every move, like mine had to him only seconds before.

And like mine, they were watery and hurt, just like I left them six years ago.