Perfection With Some Flaws
A Glimpse at the Real Thing
“Hey!”
By this time, I had run out of the tour bus, Daniel at my heels. I skidded to a halt in front of the figure I had seen, narrowly bumping into them. The person turned and my suspicions were confirmed.
“Jon? What are you doing back here?”
He smiled down at me, “I could ask you the same thing.” He looked behind me and noticed Daniel. I did the same, noticing the stranger behind Jon, who smiled and waved like a hyperactive kid. I did the same.
“Oh, Imogene, this is Brendon. Brendon, Imogene. The girl I was telling you about.”
“Hey,” Brendon greeted, meanwhile I heard Daniel laugh behind me.
“Imogene? He-” I elbowed him in the stomach before he could continue, my expression not changing. I turned and pretended to suddenly notice him. “Oh, Daniel. I forgot you were there. Jon, Brendon, this is Daniel. Daniel, meet Jon and Brendon.” I introduced them, hoping Daniel wouldn’t open his mouth, like Carlos would.
“Hey, nice to meet you,” Daniel caught his breath and shook their hands. Brendon seemed to be studying Daniel’s face, and I could tell the wheels in his mind were turning when recognition spread across his face.
“Daniel Kessler from Interpol, right?” he asked, pointing at Daniel, as if afraid we might accuse his speculation with someone else. Daniel nodded, which made Brendon go into a mini victory dance.
“Dude, I love your music. It’s freaking awesome,” Brendon and Daniel seemed to drift into their own little world as they started talking about music composition and theory. Nerds.
I, on the other hand, turned my attention back to Jon.
“So, did you sneak back here or something?” I asked, trying to make my question sound as not rude as possible, although it rang the opposite. Jon laughed in response.
“No, thankfully, I remembered my pass,” he flashed the backstage pass at me. I read it quickly in the brief moments it had strayed in front of my face. It read J. Walker, Panic at the Disco.
“Panic at the Disco? Are you in the band?” I now knew why he had seemed so familiar earlier. I'd seen pictures of them in magazines, but it wasn't like I could have picked them out of a crowd.
“Not a fan, I see,” he teased. I nodded.
“I’ve heard that one song, but other than that, I’m clueless.”
“Such a shame. You’re missing out on some good stuff. Speaking of good stuff, I’m hungry. Care to grab a bite to eat?”
I was about to answer when an annoying voice interrupted.
“Raq! Why are you out here chatting it up with guys. I’m hungry! You can flirt later.”
I turned to see Carlos, Paul and Sam, Carlos leading them, since he was rushing towards me. I turned around and looked at Jon again, who looked down at me confused.
“Rake? Uhh…” I could see a smile playing at his lips. I sighed and ran over to Daniel, yanking his arm for attention. He and Brendon looked at me.
“We need to go. Now.”
“What? Why?” he looked towards his approaching bandmates. “Pa-”
I simply took charge, not letting him finish his sentence as I ran around the bus and into the maze that it created with the rest.
“Daniel! Raq! Get your fucking skinny asses over here!” I heard Carlos call, although faintly. I zoomed around the back of a bus and stopped, gasping for air. Daniel did the same, holding his knees for support.
“Raq? What the hell?” he demanded, staring down at me, since I had taken a seat on the floor.
“That was a fun way to work it out,” I tried to change the subject.
“Why did you run from the guys? And why did you lie and say your name is Imogene?”
“It’s not lying if it’s part of my name…”
Daniel frowned and crossed his arms, his foot tapping impatiently. He knew I hated when he did this because the truth would flow out of my mouth like a river, I would feel so guilty.
“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you.”
By this time, I had run out of the tour bus, Daniel at my heels. I skidded to a halt in front of the figure I had seen, narrowly bumping into them. The person turned and my suspicions were confirmed.
“Jon? What are you doing back here?”
He smiled down at me, “I could ask you the same thing.” He looked behind me and noticed Daniel. I did the same, noticing the stranger behind Jon, who smiled and waved like a hyperactive kid. I did the same.
“Oh, Imogene, this is Brendon. Brendon, Imogene. The girl I was telling you about.”
“Hey,” Brendon greeted, meanwhile I heard Daniel laugh behind me.
“Imogene? He-” I elbowed him in the stomach before he could continue, my expression not changing. I turned and pretended to suddenly notice him. “Oh, Daniel. I forgot you were there. Jon, Brendon, this is Daniel. Daniel, meet Jon and Brendon.” I introduced them, hoping Daniel wouldn’t open his mouth, like Carlos would.
“Hey, nice to meet you,” Daniel caught his breath and shook their hands. Brendon seemed to be studying Daniel’s face, and I could tell the wheels in his mind were turning when recognition spread across his face.
“Daniel Kessler from Interpol, right?” he asked, pointing at Daniel, as if afraid we might accuse his speculation with someone else. Daniel nodded, which made Brendon go into a mini victory dance.
“Dude, I love your music. It’s freaking awesome,” Brendon and Daniel seemed to drift into their own little world as they started talking about music composition and theory. Nerds.
I, on the other hand, turned my attention back to Jon.
“So, did you sneak back here or something?” I asked, trying to make my question sound as not rude as possible, although it rang the opposite. Jon laughed in response.
“No, thankfully, I remembered my pass,” he flashed the backstage pass at me. I read it quickly in the brief moments it had strayed in front of my face. It read J. Walker, Panic at the Disco.
“Panic at the Disco? Are you in the band?” I now knew why he had seemed so familiar earlier. I'd seen pictures of them in magazines, but it wasn't like I could have picked them out of a crowd.
“Not a fan, I see,” he teased. I nodded.
“I’ve heard that one song, but other than that, I’m clueless.”
“Such a shame. You’re missing out on some good stuff. Speaking of good stuff, I’m hungry. Care to grab a bite to eat?”
I was about to answer when an annoying voice interrupted.
“Raq! Why are you out here chatting it up with guys. I’m hungry! You can flirt later.”
I turned to see Carlos, Paul and Sam, Carlos leading them, since he was rushing towards me. I turned around and looked at Jon again, who looked down at me confused.
“Rake? Uhh…” I could see a smile playing at his lips. I sighed and ran over to Daniel, yanking his arm for attention. He and Brendon looked at me.
“We need to go. Now.”
“What? Why?” he looked towards his approaching bandmates. “Pa-”
I simply took charge, not letting him finish his sentence as I ran around the bus and into the maze that it created with the rest.
“Daniel! Raq! Get your fucking skinny asses over here!” I heard Carlos call, although faintly. I zoomed around the back of a bus and stopped, gasping for air. Daniel did the same, holding his knees for support.
“Raq? What the hell?” he demanded, staring down at me, since I had taken a seat on the floor.
“That was a fun way to work it out,” I tried to change the subject.
“Why did you run from the guys? And why did you lie and say your name is Imogene?”
“It’s not lying if it’s part of my name…”
Daniel frowned and crossed his arms, his foot tapping impatiently. He knew I hated when he did this because the truth would flow out of my mouth like a river, I would feel so guilty.
“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you.”