Rain on My Parade

The tech bus was absolutely the most boring thing I had been on in ages. So boring, I was debating on throwing myself off in an attempt to attract attention. I mean it had only been a half hour, but I had not started a conversation with anybody, and I didn't know the first thing about all the shit they were talking about. So what good was I at the moment?

I was fumbling around with my seatbelt when Dylan leaned over towards me.

"I'm so sorry," he said with utmost sincerity. I wasn't angry at him, but this tour was already moving along in a way that was much different from what I imagined.

"I should really be on the bus with my crew."

"You're not ready for the band."

"I wasn't talking about the band, you imbecile," I rolled my eyes. "And besides... The band is not ready for me."

"Oh right. That's what I meant." He smirked, trying to hide it by turning his head, but I could see the rise in his cheek.

"I know you're worried about how we're all going to interact with each other. I just want to keep it professional," I assured him, thoughts centering around my first time officially meeting Oli. The way he spoke to me still created an uncomfortable burn in the pit of my stomach. How long was that hardship going to last? I couldn't even come up with an estimation. Maybe his attitude would endure through the entire tour. Joy.

"You've started off with a great impression. Four out of five band members are agreeable."

I nodded, appreciative that he noticed I honestly tried with everyone. "Oli will come around at some point, I hope. I'm no Molly but I'll try my best at not screwing everything up."

Dylan shook his head, a soft look in his eyes. "Sis, I had your best interest in mind when I picked your position. It's extremely difficult to mess up something like merch."

"I figured as much," I sighed, staring out the window at the passing trees. But there was more to it than just selling tshirts, wristbands, cd's and messenger bags. It was about connecting with the fans, connecting with the other girls, and most importantly, connecting with each band member to the point where we could simply just get along. I was feeling apprehensive, yet hoping that our lead singer would drop his drama queen demeanor as soon as possible. I guess it was up to me to make sure that happened. He seemed to like everybody else.

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"Yoo-hoo! Natalia!" As soon as I stepped off the bus, I was overwhelmed with curiosity and delight. We were parked behind a large arena, and it was the first time I was getting a sneak peek behind the scenes at a concert. I frowned at the voice, not responding but instead, waiting for her to walk over. "Isn't this awesome?"

Meghan pushed herself through a bunch of burly men and shoved her hand onto my arm. I tumbled back a little, trying to convince myself that I was the master of patience.

"Yes. I'm already having quite the experience," I mumbled, turning away from her and glancing up at the huge building in front of us. Loads of people were already moving in and out through the large doors out back. Just watching them load equipment back and forth made me feel tired. I couldn't imagine lifting that much.

"I think you should ride with us when we leave," she said, breaking me out of my trance. I took a glance at her, and immediately felt remorse. If I would let her, the glowing smile on her face could be contagious. I'd be jumping up and down with sheer delight, in total awe on how I made it here. We'd share in the bliss of how remarkable our timing was. Was I treating Meghan like a fool as a defense mechanism or was it because she was honestly just annoying? She could pass for innocent almost as well as I could. I hesitated, but decided to be nice. Beats the tech bus any day, I was sure. Even if it meant I had to fight my way through a crowd of feisty women.

"You know what?" I said and she looked at me expectantly. "I think I will."

"Hell yeah! Come on," she said and yanked on my hand. "Let's go see where we set up."

Awaiting our turn to make it inside, we moved quickly and effortlessly through the masses of men, watching their muscles and hard work bring the vision to life. I walked with appreciation at the amount of guys doing their jobs without their shirts on. It was a marvelous sight, I felt like sharing it with Meghan.

"Is it normal for a bunch of them to take their shirts off this early?" I questioned, leaning closer to her so I was as quiet as a mouse.

"Oh my god yes. It gets better too, as the night goes on," she grinned from ear to ear. Well, she definitely had more experience with this than I did.

"Interesting," I said, allowing my eyes to keep drifting. She kept pulling me farther and farther away from the back, and I had a feeling, farther away from Dylan. Not that I was complaining. We circled around the entire inside of the arena, it probably took us a good ten minutes to make it to the front. I had been led to a couple of cardboard boxes, and one of those rusted looking fake wooden tables. It wobbled as I leaned myself against it.

"This where we're stationed?" I asked. She nodded, ripping open one of the boxes with ease. I peered inside, and saw a bunch of Bring Me The Horizon tshirts, folded neatly. "How'd you know this was us?"

"It's written on the box, duh," she bent down and pointed to the messy handwriting on the side. 'BMTH' was bolded in sharpie. I made a mental note to remember that that was how I was going to recognize our merch. Not by it being handed to me directly. Just some random people dropping our boxes in random places. I was all for that exceptional organization.

"I'm gonna find something to drink. Wanna come?" I asked, trying to fix the off balance of the table. Meghan shook her head and continued ripping open boxes as I walked away, telling her I'd be right back.

Not only was I on a mission for a drink, but the irritating growl in my stomach told me I should probably find food as well. Was there free catering for crew? If there was, how would they be able to tell I was a part of it? I forgot to ask Dylan about badges or stamps or whatever they used to tell you apart from fans. I walked a bit further and recognized a Dunkin Donuts logo brightly lit. The line was quite long as well, but I could see a bunch of people frantically working behind the counter. I also noticed Jordan and Oli standing at the back.

I could always ask them if I needed some sort of badge to work around the arena.

"Hey guys," I interrupted them, and Oli turned boldly to look at me. He made no attempt to say hello, so Jordan cleared his throat and said it instead. Awkward.

"Hello there," he smiled, nodding his head towards me. Pulling off the same charm as earlier, I felt a twinge squeeze in my stomach at the accent. Second time officially starting conversation with Jordan... Was it ever going to get easier?

"Do you guys know if I'm supposed to get a badge or something?" I studied the area, attempting to look disinterested at our surroundings.

"Yeah," Oli confirmed, moving the hair out of his eyes. "I assume you don't know where to get it, do you, Manager?"

He was mocking my title, and it immediately drew my attention back to him. I admired his features, as I always would whenever I'd make eye contact, but that ugly smirk on his face dropped him down a few points. He was aggressive, hovering over me like a hawk, much too tall for me to challenge him. I ignored his tone and faced Jordan instead. Two could play this game.

"Well, no, unfortunately, I don't," I frowned, gently knocking my shoulder into him. He smirked in response, but it was a much sweeter version than Oli's.

"I--I know where to go," Jordan announced, handing Oli his keys. Oli's mouth dropped open, and he looked from me to his band mate with shock. I grinned, looping my arm through Jordan's and walking him backwards away from the line. "Get me a black iced. You know how I like it. Thanks mate."
That was a lot easier than expected.