Status: Re-posting.
Dedication Takes a Lifetime
You Dance Like It's Your Job
Kalila and I stood on our tip-toes, stuck behind a wall of girls who refused to take a single step toward the band. They simply giggled and squeaked, making hushed innuendo and clinging to each other to stay standing. Meanwhile, the four men were collapsed over their chairs, all freshly showered and clothed in garments not soaked in sweat, and looking bored out of their minds. After trying in vain to fight our way through the crowd, we were starting to get restless; after all, we actually wanted to talk to the men. And then, so suddenly that I barely had time to recognize it, Kal’s bold demeanor worked it’s way into my system and I snapped.
“Seriously?” I said, loud enough for all the girls to hear me, “You’re just going to stand there? You know, maybe when you went to the doctor for those fake tits and nose jobs, you should have gotten some balls instead.” I narrowed my eyes at the girl in front of me, who’d turned to stare me down defiantly. “What?” I shoved her to the side, “Fuckin’ move, Barbie.” This time, I was the one to grab
Kal’s hand and drag her through the group, and then we were face-to-face with our four favourite men…and they were staring at us like we had two heads each.
I was shocked at myself--too shocked to speak in my own defense--so I was grateful when Kal took the reins. She brushed a stray hair out of her face and shrugged her shoulders, “What? We didn’t wait in line for an hour and a half for nothing.”
The men continued to stare for a long time, while we both stood shifting awkwardly. Finally, though, it was Jack who cracked a smile and waved us over, “Fair enough! So c’mon, sit down, be sociable.” We smiled in return and settled into the black leather loveseat, leaning our elbows against our knees and staring at the men. Jack copied the motion and stared back at us. Before we knew it--rather unintentionally, even--we’d engaged in a full-out staring contest with him that no one was willing to lose. Several minutes past, and finally he blinked. Kal sat back against the loveseat and threw her arms up in the air “VICTORY!”
Jack began bouncing around madly in his chair, grabbing Alex’s arm and shaking him madly, “VIP! VIP!” Kal and I exchanged curious glances.
Alex smirked and spoke his first words to us, “Jack has this thing about being beaten by beautiful women,” he winked, but nothing about it seemed typically sleazy, as it should have. “We have a VIP room that we invite a select few to after the meet-and-greet.”
Rian leaned forward then, handing us each a laminated slip, “There is a dress code,” he informed us, “Pants are strongly disapproved of.”
“As are shirts,” Zack added.
“And undergarments of any kind,” Alex finished.
We reached for the passes, taking them cautiously. “Um, yay?” Kal questioned, flipping the laminated card over in her hands.
Jack gestured behind him, “The entrance is right through there.” He stood, jutting out an elbow on each side, “I shall escort you ladies, for I am a gentleman. A very, very,” he eyed the bimbos that still had yet to make a move, “Bored gentleman.” We stood and took an elbow each, allowing Jack to lead us away from the group. He felt familiar, like one of the guys I went to school with. No pretenses, no pop-star bullshit; he just wanted to meet people and have fun. In fact, if he was one of the students at my school, he’d probably be classified as one of those class-clown, eager-to-please dorks. Everything about him was comfortable, and inviting. Looking across his thin form, I caught sight of Kal’s eyes and widespread grin; she must have been in heaven. After all, Jack Barakat was personally escorting her to a VIP room backstage of an All Time Low concert. “Surreal” doesn’t even begin to cover the experience.
“Ladies,” he said, stopping in front of a door that sported a handwritten sign: ATL Get-Down Jiggy-Bop-Bop VIP Room, Trespassers Will Be Whipped (And Not In A Fun Way) <3 JackieBlue. “I’m sorry, I did not catch your names.” We introduced ourselves automatically, and he let go of our arms to mock a curtsey. “Jack Barakat. Pleasure to meet you.” He gestured to the door, “Care to do the honors?” After a brief hesitation, I reached for the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open. I don’t know what we were expecting, but it wasn’t what we got; Kal and I melted into fits of suppressed laughter on the spot.
The room was large, probably used as a staff meeting room at the venue, but you couldn’t have guessed that at this moment. Situated around the room were a handful of plush white couches on a black shag rug, each having an end table with a fuzzy pink lamp on top. There was a disco light ball in each of the four corners, casting blue, pink, and yellow orbs off of the walls, spinning fast enough to make a person queasy. A bar had been set up against one wall, expanding across it entirely, a bartender behind it with a miserable look on his face, and there were huge pillows of every shape and color tossed around the room. It was, in one word, ridiculous. Which Kal pointed out when she finally regained her composure. Jack nodded with a sly look on his face, “Indeed it is. Or is it?” He clapped twice and a stereo kicked on somewhere, playing the latest Boys Like Girls single.
“Impressive,” I deadpanned, leaning backwards slightly to peek around at the other room where the three remaining band members sat. Some of the girls had finally moved forward and were, much to my amusement, attempting to draw Alex in to a staring contest in hopes to get a VIP pass as well. Sucks for them, I thought to myself, Our awesomeness is purely accidental. I started chuckling to myself when someone grabbed my arm and roughly jerked me forward; I looked to find Jack pulling me and Kal through the door and shutting it behind us. If ever an incident to make you think you were about the get raped by a musician, that was it, but he just laughed easily and pulled us across the floor to the bar.
“Ladies,” he tilted his head down and looked at us from beneath his eyebrows, trying to sound serious but falling short with his slight--and adorable--lisp. He took two drinks that the bartender offered him and gave us one each, “Let’s get this night started. And be warned: After you’re drunk, I’m going to challenge you to a staring contest rematch.”
“Never figured you for a dirty cheater,” Kal said teasingly, to which Jack smiled at her appraisingly. I melted away toward one of the couches, deciding to let them have their moment.
--
“You have issues!” Never in my life, before this moment, could I have imagined meeting Alex Gaskarth, let alone find myself yelling at him as we sat close on a white leather couch while the rest of the party continued three feet away, but in a totally different world. “I mean, okay, I’ll give you that ‘Anna-Molly’ was fantastic, but you cannot tell me that Light Grenades was better than Morning View!” About fifteen minutes after Jack took Kal and I to the VIP room, the other three band members had joined us with a dozen or so girls. Despite all the company, however, Jack was spending most of his time talking to Kal, and I’d somehow roped Alex into a heated music debate about everything from our current topic, Incubus, to Sam Cooke and Ella Fitzgerald.
Alex stared at me incredulously, “That’s the booze talking, young‘n; I’m just gonna take this.” He grabbed the red cup from my hand, which I quickly snatched back. True, I had indulged a little, but I was nowhere near drunk and neither was he. So he just laughed as we clinked our cups together and drank.
“Besides,” I told him after I’d swallowed, “I’m only two years under the drinking age; two years younger than you.”
He gave me a quizzical look, “You’re nineteen? But I thought you said you were still in high school.”
Uh oh. Stupid Annette; stupid, stupid, stupid. “Oh, I am,” I said nonchalantly, “I had to take a year off after my Sophomore year, so I’m graduating this year instead of last year.” I took another drink and looked around, hoping he wouldn’t push the topic.
No such luck. “Why’d you have to take a year off?” On the one hand, the way he leaned in with serious eyes, like he was genuinely interested, made me want to tell him all of my secrets, from the small ones to the life-altering, big ones. But on the other hand…no. Which is exactly what my face must have read, because he put up his free hand and smiled, “Hey, no worries; I understand boundaries. What I don’t understand, however, is why we’re still sitting here talking about this serious stuff when a party is going on!” He grabbed my hand and yanked me up, dragging me toward the designated dancing area as ‘Sticks, Stones, and Techno’ began playing. Now, I’m not a bad dancer, but something about moving to a beat in front of Alex Gaskarth intimidated the hell out of me. So it wasn’t until I caught sight of Kal and Jack dancing nearby that I grew the confidence to get into the music and dance the way that, while not the desperate, slutty moves the other girls were doing, it was…well…
The way that my mother should never see me dancing.
Especially when Alex’s hands landed on my hips and my arms went over his shoulders, our bodies close and moving in perfect sync to the music. He smiled down at me and deliberately bumped my forehead with his nose, to which I laughed and turned to look at Kal again. She and Jack were still dancing--if you could call it that--and laughing about something that had to be the funniest thing in the world. More than once, they had to lean against each other to keep from collapsing. Wow. That wasn’t guitarist/groupie behavior; that was actually something. Looking back at my dance partner, I wondered: Did Alex and I have that same something, or was he just too charming for his own good and I was just too naïve to know any better?
“For fuck’s sake,” Alex cursed under his breath, then, “Sorry,” he added when I raised by eyebrows at him. He leaned in close and whispered, “I can’t tell you how many times one of these girls has groped me while we’ve been dancing.” His warm breath against my earlobe was disorienting, to say the least, but I still managed to comprehend his words.
“Oh,” I stuttered, then composed myself, “Should we go sit back down?”
He looked around and then sighed, “No. They’re getting restless; they’ll only get more ballsy from here on in. Um,” he glanced around again and then a smile crept across his face, “Hey, would you like to see the tour bus?” Then he brought a hand up and smacked himself in the temple, “And that was not meant to sound like a proposition, I promise. I just…need to get away from this shit.”
“Y-yeah,” I said, my mind reeling. Did I trust him when he said it wasn’t a come-on? One look in those sincere brown eyes said yes, yes I did. So I didn’t hesitate when he took my hand and started pulling me toward the door. I felt, instantly, like I could never say no to him.
“Seriously?” I said, loud enough for all the girls to hear me, “You’re just going to stand there? You know, maybe when you went to the doctor for those fake tits and nose jobs, you should have gotten some balls instead.” I narrowed my eyes at the girl in front of me, who’d turned to stare me down defiantly. “What?” I shoved her to the side, “Fuckin’ move, Barbie.” This time, I was the one to grab
Kal’s hand and drag her through the group, and then we were face-to-face with our four favourite men…and they were staring at us like we had two heads each.
I was shocked at myself--too shocked to speak in my own defense--so I was grateful when Kal took the reins. She brushed a stray hair out of her face and shrugged her shoulders, “What? We didn’t wait in line for an hour and a half for nothing.”
The men continued to stare for a long time, while we both stood shifting awkwardly. Finally, though, it was Jack who cracked a smile and waved us over, “Fair enough! So c’mon, sit down, be sociable.” We smiled in return and settled into the black leather loveseat, leaning our elbows against our knees and staring at the men. Jack copied the motion and stared back at us. Before we knew it--rather unintentionally, even--we’d engaged in a full-out staring contest with him that no one was willing to lose. Several minutes past, and finally he blinked. Kal sat back against the loveseat and threw her arms up in the air “VICTORY!”
Jack began bouncing around madly in his chair, grabbing Alex’s arm and shaking him madly, “VIP! VIP!” Kal and I exchanged curious glances.
Alex smirked and spoke his first words to us, “Jack has this thing about being beaten by beautiful women,” he winked, but nothing about it seemed typically sleazy, as it should have. “We have a VIP room that we invite a select few to after the meet-and-greet.”
Rian leaned forward then, handing us each a laminated slip, “There is a dress code,” he informed us, “Pants are strongly disapproved of.”
“As are shirts,” Zack added.
“And undergarments of any kind,” Alex finished.
We reached for the passes, taking them cautiously. “Um, yay?” Kal questioned, flipping the laminated card over in her hands.
Jack gestured behind him, “The entrance is right through there.” He stood, jutting out an elbow on each side, “I shall escort you ladies, for I am a gentleman. A very, very,” he eyed the bimbos that still had yet to make a move, “Bored gentleman.” We stood and took an elbow each, allowing Jack to lead us away from the group. He felt familiar, like one of the guys I went to school with. No pretenses, no pop-star bullshit; he just wanted to meet people and have fun. In fact, if he was one of the students at my school, he’d probably be classified as one of those class-clown, eager-to-please dorks. Everything about him was comfortable, and inviting. Looking across his thin form, I caught sight of Kal’s eyes and widespread grin; she must have been in heaven. After all, Jack Barakat was personally escorting her to a VIP room backstage of an All Time Low concert. “Surreal” doesn’t even begin to cover the experience.
“Ladies,” he said, stopping in front of a door that sported a handwritten sign: ATL Get-Down Jiggy-Bop-Bop VIP Room, Trespassers Will Be Whipped (And Not In A Fun Way) <3 JackieBlue. “I’m sorry, I did not catch your names.” We introduced ourselves automatically, and he let go of our arms to mock a curtsey. “Jack Barakat. Pleasure to meet you.” He gestured to the door, “Care to do the honors?” After a brief hesitation, I reached for the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open. I don’t know what we were expecting, but it wasn’t what we got; Kal and I melted into fits of suppressed laughter on the spot.
The room was large, probably used as a staff meeting room at the venue, but you couldn’t have guessed that at this moment. Situated around the room were a handful of plush white couches on a black shag rug, each having an end table with a fuzzy pink lamp on top. There was a disco light ball in each of the four corners, casting blue, pink, and yellow orbs off of the walls, spinning fast enough to make a person queasy. A bar had been set up against one wall, expanding across it entirely, a bartender behind it with a miserable look on his face, and there were huge pillows of every shape and color tossed around the room. It was, in one word, ridiculous. Which Kal pointed out when she finally regained her composure. Jack nodded with a sly look on his face, “Indeed it is. Or is it?” He clapped twice and a stereo kicked on somewhere, playing the latest Boys Like Girls single.
“Impressive,” I deadpanned, leaning backwards slightly to peek around at the other room where the three remaining band members sat. Some of the girls had finally moved forward and were, much to my amusement, attempting to draw Alex in to a staring contest in hopes to get a VIP pass as well. Sucks for them, I thought to myself, Our awesomeness is purely accidental. I started chuckling to myself when someone grabbed my arm and roughly jerked me forward; I looked to find Jack pulling me and Kal through the door and shutting it behind us. If ever an incident to make you think you were about the get raped by a musician, that was it, but he just laughed easily and pulled us across the floor to the bar.
“Ladies,” he tilted his head down and looked at us from beneath his eyebrows, trying to sound serious but falling short with his slight--and adorable--lisp. He took two drinks that the bartender offered him and gave us one each, “Let’s get this night started. And be warned: After you’re drunk, I’m going to challenge you to a staring contest rematch.”
“Never figured you for a dirty cheater,” Kal said teasingly, to which Jack smiled at her appraisingly. I melted away toward one of the couches, deciding to let them have their moment.
--
“You have issues!” Never in my life, before this moment, could I have imagined meeting Alex Gaskarth, let alone find myself yelling at him as we sat close on a white leather couch while the rest of the party continued three feet away, but in a totally different world. “I mean, okay, I’ll give you that ‘Anna-Molly’ was fantastic, but you cannot tell me that Light Grenades was better than Morning View!” About fifteen minutes after Jack took Kal and I to the VIP room, the other three band members had joined us with a dozen or so girls. Despite all the company, however, Jack was spending most of his time talking to Kal, and I’d somehow roped Alex into a heated music debate about everything from our current topic, Incubus, to Sam Cooke and Ella Fitzgerald.
Alex stared at me incredulously, “That’s the booze talking, young‘n; I’m just gonna take this.” He grabbed the red cup from my hand, which I quickly snatched back. True, I had indulged a little, but I was nowhere near drunk and neither was he. So he just laughed as we clinked our cups together and drank.
“Besides,” I told him after I’d swallowed, “I’m only two years under the drinking age; two years younger than you.”
He gave me a quizzical look, “You’re nineteen? But I thought you said you were still in high school.”
Uh oh. Stupid Annette; stupid, stupid, stupid. “Oh, I am,” I said nonchalantly, “I had to take a year off after my Sophomore year, so I’m graduating this year instead of last year.” I took another drink and looked around, hoping he wouldn’t push the topic.
No such luck. “Why’d you have to take a year off?” On the one hand, the way he leaned in with serious eyes, like he was genuinely interested, made me want to tell him all of my secrets, from the small ones to the life-altering, big ones. But on the other hand…no. Which is exactly what my face must have read, because he put up his free hand and smiled, “Hey, no worries; I understand boundaries. What I don’t understand, however, is why we’re still sitting here talking about this serious stuff when a party is going on!” He grabbed my hand and yanked me up, dragging me toward the designated dancing area as ‘Sticks, Stones, and Techno’ began playing. Now, I’m not a bad dancer, but something about moving to a beat in front of Alex Gaskarth intimidated the hell out of me. So it wasn’t until I caught sight of Kal and Jack dancing nearby that I grew the confidence to get into the music and dance the way that, while not the desperate, slutty moves the other girls were doing, it was…well…
The way that my mother should never see me dancing.
Especially when Alex’s hands landed on my hips and my arms went over his shoulders, our bodies close and moving in perfect sync to the music. He smiled down at me and deliberately bumped my forehead with his nose, to which I laughed and turned to look at Kal again. She and Jack were still dancing--if you could call it that--and laughing about something that had to be the funniest thing in the world. More than once, they had to lean against each other to keep from collapsing. Wow. That wasn’t guitarist/groupie behavior; that was actually something. Looking back at my dance partner, I wondered: Did Alex and I have that same something, or was he just too charming for his own good and I was just too naïve to know any better?
“For fuck’s sake,” Alex cursed under his breath, then, “Sorry,” he added when I raised by eyebrows at him. He leaned in close and whispered, “I can’t tell you how many times one of these girls has groped me while we’ve been dancing.” His warm breath against my earlobe was disorienting, to say the least, but I still managed to comprehend his words.
“Oh,” I stuttered, then composed myself, “Should we go sit back down?”
He looked around and then sighed, “No. They’re getting restless; they’ll only get more ballsy from here on in. Um,” he glanced around again and then a smile crept across his face, “Hey, would you like to see the tour bus?” Then he brought a hand up and smacked himself in the temple, “And that was not meant to sound like a proposition, I promise. I just…need to get away from this shit.”
“Y-yeah,” I said, my mind reeling. Did I trust him when he said it wasn’t a come-on? One look in those sincere brown eyes said yes, yes I did. So I didn’t hesitate when he took my hand and started pulling me toward the door. I felt, instantly, like I could never say no to him.