Hollywood Hills and Suburban Thrills

The day dragged on and it didn't take long at all for me to get the hang of the waitressing job. It was actually very basic: seat customers, take their order, bring their food, and then pick up their mess. Easy.

After two o'clock, however, the lunch rush had slowed down and no one was even in the restaurant at two thirty. So, having nothing to do after wiping down all the tables, Noah and I went to the employee lounge to hang out until we were needed again.

"I still can't believe I didn't recognize them," Noah says as we walked into the room and took our usual seats.

"You can only imagine how I feel," I mumble, "I was their waitress."

He nodded. "So I'm guessing you know their work?"

I smiled at him. "Of course," but then rethought my response, "they're one of my favorites."

"Mine too," Noah notes excitedly, "but apparently we're not as great a fans as we thought we were, huh? We didn't even recognize them."

"I don't like them for them; I like them for their music and lyrics. I've only really seen pictures of them in magazines and on television when I'm watching music videos."

"But now you've met them and apparently William wants to meet you," he takes reference to the note that William had left on the table for me and I smiled.

"Well, maybe we'll cross paths again someday but I doubt I'm going to Warped, unfortunately." I slumped in my chair.

"Why?" Noah asks, leaning on the table and turning the radio down a notch.

"Because my mom would never let me. She's too much of a tight ass." I groan, letting my head loll back as I sighed with annoyance.

"That's too bad," Noah replies, "I'm probably going to go, if it makes you feel any better." I looked up to see him smiling softly.

"That sure does, thanks, Noah," I responded sarcastically, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

Silence drifted into the room for a while until I felt the ground vibrate slightly. I looked at Noah to see that he too was looking concernedly at me. I stood and walked out of the lounge, bee lining out of the kitchen and to the front door of the restaurant. I pressed my face against the big glass window and immediately saw multiple huge buses driving by, several with logos on the sides of them.

The horns of smaller cars were blaring all around them. Taxis swooped in and out from between them. But they continued trekking down the street toward the First Midwest Bank Amphitheatre.

"Have you ever been to Warped Tour before?" Noah asks quietly from beside me.

At first I didn't register what he had asked; I was too entranced by the buses that were still filing down the street, but after a while, I came up with a response. "Once," I say just as quietly as he, "with my dad a while ago."

"Why doesn't he take you again?"

I swallowed, not really wanting to talk about this. "He's not really with us anymore," I say.

Noah turned to face me instantly and abruptly, making me look at him. "Dani, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up, I was just wo-…"

"My parents are divorced, Noah. My dad lives in an apartment in uptown Chicago but I don't see him much anymore."

Noah stopped yammering on and nodded. "I'm still sorry," he adds after a pause. "I know what it's like to have your parents split up. Not a walk in the park."

I shook my head. "You got that right,"

The last of the buses disappeared over the horizon so I turned around and headed back toward the lounge with Noah in tow. "When did they split up?" he asks.

I sighed. "When I was sixteen. My dad took me to Warped Tour that year for my birthday and not soon after, they started fighting."

"You don't need to say anymore," Noah stops me before I could find it in myself to go on. I smiled thankfully at him as we walked back into the lounge, plopping back in our regular spots and staying silent. That is, until, I heard a familiar radio host's voice.

"Hey all you Chicagoans, it's finally time." He boomed through the speakers and I felt my ears perk up. "It's time to choose the winner of the Day at Warped Sweepstakes. Now, if I call your name, you have to call into the radio station and confirm your identification from the information you sent us. 1-888-236-6465"

"I wonder how many saps entered that dumb swee-…" Noah began but I shushed him, leaning so my ear was mere centimeters from the speakers, listening carefully with my cell phone now in hand with the number already dialed.

"And the winner is…" the radio host prolonged the 'is' as the sound of paper ruffling and being unfolded was heard over the speaker. My insides were squirming with anxiety, begging him to just say the name already. "Tyler Paulsen, Tyler Paulsen..."

My face, heart, and insides, for that matter, all dropped simultaneously as I fell back in my chair with a sigh. Noah's face was confused but right as he was about to say something, another man's voice came on the radio. "Hello this is Tyler," it said, sounding ecstatic. "And the answer to my secret questi-…"

With a sigh, I snapped the dial on the radio off and fell back heavily in my chair again. I didn't know why I was reacting the way I was; after all, part of me always knew I wasn't going to win. I guess I was just hoping, praying, that that part of mind would be dead wrong.

"You entered that contest?" Noah asks quietly and I nodded. He sighed, giving me a sympathetic look, but that's all I got. Then, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket.

"Hey," I said solemnly into it.

"Hey," Kayla replies, equally sober. "I'm assuming you were listening to the radio about a minute ago?"

"Yeah," I say and she sighs.

"This sucks," she says finally in aggravation. "I don't see why your mom just doesn't let you go. What's going to happen, seriously?"

"I don't know, but I don't want to talk about it." I decide, my heart dropping more at the thought of definitely not going to Warped. Kayla spluttered to brighten my spirits but I cut her off, "You go and have fun." I say finally and then I snap my phone shut. Noah looked at me.

"You really want to go, don't you?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah," I say, standing and walking toward the kitchen, "or at least I did." And I let the door shut behind me.