Craft Service

One

When my dad told me that I was going to have to get a job I was surprised to say the least. I’m not your typical working girl. I want to open a clothing store. That has always been my dream and he refused to help me fund it unless I got a proper job and made half the money.

            Sounds fair, right?

            Not if you’ve never been an employee at anything in your whole entire life.

            He works for a record company and manages tours for bands. This year he’s working for a band called 5 Seconds of Summer. When we argued about what I would be able to do with my limited skills he scored me a gig as one of the Craft Services workers on the tour.

            At first I was excited, I could go and travel the world, hear some music and live the tour life.

            Then I googled what Craft Services actually was and had a mini heart attack.

            I was going to be in charge of feeding four teenage boys and I am probably the worst cook to walk the planet.

            Great.

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            Dad woke me up at six am on the Thirty First of July and turned on all the lights in my bedroom so I would be forced to get up. I rolled over on the bed and flopped my hands down into the comforter.

            “I have to go to work today,” I whispered to my dog Lola sitting on the corner of my bed. She’s a little white fluff ball with big brown eyes.

            “Parker!” Dad yelled again. I flinched at the tone and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I walked down the stairs, tying my long hair into a knot on the way down.

            “Yes father,” I hummed.

            “What is all this?” He asked, pointing to my luggage waiting by the door.

            “My stuff,” I said, shooting him a weird look. “What does it look like?”

            “You think you’re going to bring six suitcases with you?” He asked loudly.

            I nodded my head and crossed my arms over my chest.

            “We’re going to be gone for a long time,” I frowned.

            “Parker everyone only brings one,” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

            “One?” I spat. “I couldn’t even fit all my shoes in one!”

            “Oh my god,” He whispered. “Pick three, that’s it.”

            I rolled my eyes and took the three that I could live without and dragged them back upstairs. I dropped them onto the bed and started to unpack, frowning at all of the cute dresses I was having to put back.

            “I’ll be back for you later,” I told them.

            We left the house at nine and made our way to the bus station. Apparently we were all taking the bus around England for a week and a half before we started to fly. I watched the parking lot full of people when we pulled in with our cab.

            “Is everyone here on this tour?” I asked him with wide eyes.

            “Yeah,” He nodded.