Rain on My Parade

By the time 8am rolled around, you could find Dylan and I hovering over the steaming table of breakfast foods. My eyes gladly took in the abundance of eggs, toast, and fluffy pancakes smothered in butter.

"Next time you have a meeting, I'm there, no questions asked," I said, or tried to say, with a mouthful of crispy bread.

"You came with me last time but I'm almost positive it was in the afternoon," Dylan grabbed a muffin to his left and used a plastic knife to split it. "That shit is the worst. No free food, ever."

I nodded in response, too busy shoveling whatever looked best onto a plate. Not that I was a pig or anything about food...

I went to reach for another greasy chunk of bacon when my hand accidentally bumped into a much different kind of hand. Tattoos adorned not only the fingers, but surface and palm included. I stared in curiosity, and followed the work of art that retracted back to it's owner.

"Sorry 'bout that," an English accent had told my right ear and I was forced to turn towards it's face. I was met with a much taller frame than myself, I'd guess by a foot, and a head of messy brown locks. I was certain he belonged to a band, from the image, but which one I had no clue. I was in the middle of admiring his hazel eyes, coming around to reply, when Dylan was brushing me aside, reaching his hand out for a shake.

"Oli!" He acknowledged the boy, who immediately turned his focus to my brother. It took this Oli a quick second to form who, exactly, Dylan was before he returned the same enthusiasm.

"All right mate?" He said, the accent making his words flow into one sentence. It took me a beat to register the greeting, and then they were off and running.

"Long time no see. I'm your technician supervisor for the tour." Dylan patted Oli on the back and brought him around the table, eventually invested in their own private conversation. I, on the other hand, was alone and standing awkwardly with an overflowing plate full of cholesterol.

"Hello, I'm Meghan." I was greeted by a girl, surprisingly shorter than my 5'1" physique, leaning against the brick wall. Half of her hair was shaved, and dyed a deep purple. The color offset the dark shade of red she had chosen for her eye makeup. The only thing average about this woman was her simple tshirt and faded jeans.

"Natalia," I mumbled, looking back to see Dylan still immersed with Oli.

"What do you do?"

I hesitated at her inquiry from the tone of her voice. It seemed like she was already on the defense over something. Obviously not quite sure over what, but I wasn't looking for enemies anytime soon.

"Uh," I said, placing my food back onto the table. "I'm the new Merchandise Manager for the band Bring Me The Horizon?"

At each passing word, Meghan's eyes grew bigger and bigger. She eventually stood up from the wall, and hooked her arm into mine. I frowned at the sudden contact, for it was not as welcoming as the hand I had grazed earlier. Certain strangers liked to take on the aggressive approach with some people. The fact that someone might not like it never manages to cross their mind.

She pulled me along, and I strained my neck, hoping Dylan would abruptly end his conversation with his cute friend, and grab me from this abyss. It didn't work.

Meghan brought me over to a nearby table, which was surrounded by other women who weren't far off from herself. A snap of bubblegum made me twitch, and then I was being sat in a cold, hard chair. Uncomfortable, to say the least.

"This here's our new manager," Meghan declared from behind me, her bony hands placed directly over my shoulders. I bit my tongue at her touch, and tried, with the least amount of fuss possible, to shrug her off. I felt a little like I was being held against my will, feeling pressure under the scrutiny.
I received the most cynical of views as the news had sank in with each person. One girl, closest to Meghan's right, planted her boots right up onto the surface of the table. She was going to have a problem with this, I assumed.

"Looks like a softie," she snorted, picking at her nails, completely disinterested. I was about ready to open my mouth when something even more glorious interrupted me.

"I'm serious. And hey, she can fire any of us at any second," Meghan threatened, but it hardly had an effect on anybody else besides me. This was something I was clueless about, because, to be honest, I had forgotten most of the guidelines written on my paperwork. Or maybe I just didn't care enough to read them all... And maybe this girl liked to abide by the rules.

I cocked an eyebrow, looking over my shoulder at her. "You merch for Bring Me The Horizon?"

She smiled, nodding and I watched as the flow of what little hair she had left flopped over her head. And I came to the realization that these were the girls I was afraid of. Most of them looked harmless, besides the one who spoke out, which pleased me. I settled myself more comfortably in the seat, during which Meghan released my shoulders. She took her own next to me.

"I'm Natalia," I announced, feeling the pressure ease off a bit as I was able to finally introduce myself. "I'm twenty three. Just completed my third year in college. I--"

"Yeah, all right," I was interrupted by a girl farthest from us, with bright orange hair. "Education is important, education is key. This ain't no job interview." The other girls snickered along with her, obviously not impressed by my accomplishments. Not that I was able to get far by talking about it.

"There's a lot you're gonna learn while being on tour." The rebellious one leaned towards me, taunting. Her eyes a striking shade of blue. "Leave your degree at home." She got up and walked away from the group, and the others followed, each giving me a glance full of skepticism. In a matter of seconds, Meghan and I were alone once again.

"Well, that went okay," I said, focusing on a loose button at the top of my jacket. I didn't reveal the truth, that it went absolutely horrid, but I figured Meghan knew as much. She was better acquainted with these women much more than I was. Born from a venue's womb, like I said. It was unfortunate I never got a name.

"Yeah..." She chuckled, leaning her head against her palm. "So you've met Oli."

"No, actually," I sighed, sitting up straighter in my chair. "We just bumped hands, is all."

"Oh. Reaching for the same thing?" She teased.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not really," I admitted, defeated. "What's the significance here?"

"Well, he is the lead singer of Bring Me The Horizon." She stood up, creating this awful scratching against the linoleum. "Not sure how you didn't know that if you're our manager." She left me by myself as she materialized into the crowd. I wasn't far off from a joke, obviously. I was, at most, an amateur, but I did have some experience with business. I took tech classes in high school and then mastered them during my undergraduate career. So I'll sell some tshirts, make a little cash, and keep everyone in line. How hard could that be?

I swiveled in my seat and finally spotted Dylan. I waved him down and he grabbed the plate I had left on it's own and dropped it in front of me.

"Ew," I groaned, picking up a wiggly piece of meat. "It's cold."

"Where'd you go off to? I was just saying hi."

"I got sucked in by my merch squad." This was all his fault.

"I'm sorry?" He was being smug. "Best you meet them now than on Wednesday. Up bright and early. Let's go home."

"What about meeting the band?"

"Oh," Dylan said as he ripped apart a chunk of toast before plopping it in his mouth. "They were on their way out actually. Guess you'll have to wait."

"Just peachy," I whispered, following his lead towards the exit.