Everything in my life goes wrong. Everything. But, when I'm with my friends, I feel happy. They don't care if I mess up, they'll support me either way. I try to keep a happy face for them, but most of the time, when they're not by me, my face falls...
I sit in a w-position on the floor on the living space on the bus, waiting for the others to get up. I'm wearing high-waisted ripped denim shorts that stop mid-thigh, a black t-shirt crop top, my metal heels and a triple braid. I had already covered my cuts with concealer so they wouldn't see them. I put my shoes in front of me and look at my ring, twisting it slowly around my finger as I think about a wedding I would have.
Maybe it'll be in Paris, maybe in Iowa. Not in Wisconsin. That place's too weird and would probably scare Bruce. But, then again, so would Iowa. Hey, if the guys haven't scared him off yet, he's tough enough to go to Iowa for a wedding. I would have an elegant dress, something lace-y, but a ball gown. Yeah, something like that. And I would want it in the winter so we can have hot chocolate and tea and coffee without feeling overheated.
I daydream about my dream wedding as I turn the promise ring, a small smile on my face. I didn't notice the guys had already gotten up and are looking at me daydream, whispering about me and Bruce.
"Earth to Liz," Sid says, making me jump and look to him.
"How long was I in space," I ask.
"Close to 10 minutes," Corey says.
"Felt like 10 seconds," I say. I stand and put my shoes on, getting a hug from Sid.
"Happy birthday," he says, making me smile and hug him.
"I still hate my birthday. But, you guys make it tolerable," I say. I let go and the bus stops, making me grab my mask. They've never seen my mask before, so this is going to be good.
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I put a cat eye look on and turn my ring to the right way, trying not to blink. It dries and I blink a few times, turning to the guys. They're looking at me with raised eyebrows, confused on why I'm wearing what I am.
"Ya know, I've never seen you wear shorts before. And we've been friends since kindergarten," Corey says.
"I was always self-conscious when I was younger. I still am, but not as much," I say.
"Makes sense. Now, we have an interview before our show, you coming or not," he asks.
"Nah. I'm gonna stay here and chill until the show. I'm guessing you're dragging me on stage like last time," I ask.
"The maggots love you more than us, and if we don't drag you on stage on your birthday, they'll probably swarm us after the show," he says, making me laugh.
"Okay, I'll give them that. But that crowd surfing thing was weird," I say as we step off the bus. Before my foot reaches the ground, Jim picks me up under my arms and hugs me. I hug him around the neck and hang on for dear life, hearing the guys laugh their asses off.
"Happy birthday shortie," Jim says.
"And happy un-birthday tall Satan," I say, making him laugh. He puts me on his shoulders and I look down, seeing everything in a different perspective.
"I'm so tall," I say, seeing Joey look straight up to see me.
"Why can't I have that luxury," he says, making me laugh. I start braiding the blonde parts of his hair as he walks, the guys going to the dressing rooms.
"So, you're 28 this year, right," Sid says.
"Yep. I'm so old," I say.
"Ahem, same age," Corey says, an offended look on his face.
"I know, that's why I said it," I say. I tie Jim's blonde braids and hop off of his shoulders, seeing Corey look away in anger and offendedness.
"So that means we're both old people. But, Shawn's the oldest," I say. Corey cracks a smile and Shawn looks at me with a 'bitch please' look.
"What, it's true," I say.
"Okay, getting off that subject," Chris starts, waving his hands to stop us, "where's your mask?"
"It's here," I say. I hand him my mask and they look at it, in awe from how sparkly the trim is.
---time skip---
They went on stage after they pinched my ass, so I hide my mask and walk to the maggots. I jam out to the music and start thinking about the dream wedding. I didn't realize I bumped into a man who's not having a good day or life, and he grabbed my shoulder hard. He spins me around and I look at his face, seeing nothing in his eyes. He puts a knife to my stomach and stabs me, pain shooting through my abdomen. He grabs my neck and pulls me to him.
"You say anything about this and you won't see tomorrow," he spits over the music. He lets go and pushes me away, making me fall on my ass. I shakily stand and put a hand over the stab, trying to put pressure on it. I weave backstage and get out my phone, calling 911.
"911 what's your emergency," a woman asks.
"Uh, I've been stabbed. It's in front of the inferior mensentric artery. I don't think it's been cut," I say.
"Okay, where are you," she asks.
"I'm at the Meadows Music Theatre. There's the Ozzfest going on, so it's crowded," I say.
"Okay, a paramedic will be there in about an hour," she says.
"An hour," I repeat.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but there's a pile-up and only one ambulance is free. It'll take an hour to get there," she says.
"Okay, thank you," I say.
I hang up and put my phone back, leaning on the wall. I take my hand off and it's covered in blood, the stab bleeding moderately heavy. I put it back and wait, closing my eyes. I lean my head back onto the wall and think about the guys, feeling weaker than normal.
"I'm not going to die. Not on my birthday," I say.
