hater ⇔ c.h.

five; do i wanna know

When I got home at two o'clock in the morning, I was surprised to find that my house was not, in fact, burned to the ground. Although, it worried me that all of the lights were out. If I walk inside and see furniture flipped over, a smashed TV and walls completely coated in graffiti, I am going to cry. Something about hipsters in my home just gets me so emotional.

"Hello?" I called, closing and locking the front door behind me. I also flicked the lights on, surprised yet relieved that there was no sign of any hipsters on my bright white walls.

"Tori? You here?" the blonde was nowhere in sight, along with her hot little friend.

I trotted across the living room and knocked on her bedroom door. Still no answer. I pulled on the handle and peeked inside, finding my best friend sleeping happily in her bed with Tommy curled up beside her. They both seemed to have clothes on, so that was a good sign. That was also quite shocking. I was almost certain that they were going to be having a little more... fun than they should. Maybe she's finally cracking her bad habits.

Smiling proudly, I closed the door with a silent click and went to my own room, grateful for the extra few hours of sleep I'll be getting tonight.

--

I knew that work would fly by today. My first clue was the fact that I didn't have to go in until twelve o'clock. The second and most enjoyable was that I could leave whenever Marisa Marie was gone.

My whole work schedule for today consisted of packing her things, shutting down the sound systems, restarting the lighting settings and then bidding her farewell. That sounded like complete heaven to my ears, especially since my coworker, Jordan had already put away her guitars for me.

"Hey there, Tegan." He leaned against the instruments and their cases, arms crossed, bearing the most stupid smirk I've ever seen. A few slowly leaned to the side, then crashed loudly onto the ground. I cringed, but then shook my head and walked away.

Jordan and I have a sort of one-way flirtationship. Him being the one-way, and I being the girl who is uninterested to a great extent. From the second I started working here nine months ago, he hasn't stopped with his stupid attempts in hitting on me. The poor guy just doesn't give up.

Ignoring the clumsiness of my coworker, I headed off to Marisa's dressing room. Since it's one of the biggest, it will also be the one to be used next. After walking through the long hallways all around the stage and under the seats above, I finally came upon the room in which was filled with people. Makeup artists, hair stylists, stage managers, managers in general and Marisa Marie herself.

She looked up as I entered.

"Hey."

I nodded in her direction, going to help the makeup artist with her things, "What's up?" Marisa was putting all of her personal items into a tote bag, seeming to be almost done. "Clearing out, getting ready to head to Tallahassee." I nodded, carefully handing the woman beside me a stack of fake eyelashes.

"Is that all of your stops in Florida?"

She sat down in a chair, clearly finished and ready to get onto her tour bus.

"Yeah, then we're going to Mexico."

Her managers cleared the room, along with the hair stylist and then the makeup artist once I had finished helping her with her things. The only people left standing around were Marisa and I. Her dressing room was completely tidied now, leaving me with one less thing to take care of.

"Cool... um, have a great tour," I said awkwardly, trying to get out of the room.

"Wait! Tegan, before you go," she said quickly, stopping me abruptly. "Why didn't you perform with me last night?"