Summer's Light

Summer's Light (2)

Chapter Two

            “International Pop Punk Group All Time Low to Perform.

            The band, featuring lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist Alex Gaskarth, backup vocalist and lead guitarist Jack Barakat, bassist and backup vocalist Zack Merrick, and drummer Rian Dawson, has seen it’s fair share of hits and misses in the four odd years they were catapulted into the limelight. The Baltimore natives haven’t been back to their hometown since, and they are ready to party with their hometown.

            ‘We believe that every single one of our fans rock, especially ones from where we grew up. Hey, who could blame us?’ Front man Alex Gaskarth stated, ‘The familiar sights will be something to look forward to, thought I doubt we’ll see many familiar faces. No, in the four years we have been on tour and livin’ it up, all of our friends have either moved away or died. Whatever came sooner, I guess, and…’” I tossed down the tabloid with rage. I moved away or died, huh Alex? That statement had hurt me more than being tazed would. I sighed, getting up off my emerald green and gold bed, and looked at myself in the full length mirror I had hanging on my wall.

            Tonight was the night – All Time Low was coming back. And, I was dreading not only that, but my date with my almost brother. Though, thank god they were in the process of moving in with us, and didn’t quite live with us yet, because that would’ve made it extremely awkward. Not that my mom would’ve noticed. She was gone with her fiancé as usual, knowing what night it was and not wanting to watch as I drank and got high that night to erase his memories that never faded.

            I attempted a smile in the mirror – it came out like a grit of teeth, as if I were pissed, which I was. I took in my looks. I had definitely changed a lot over the years. But, who wouldn’t? After all, I was only in eighth grade when Alex left. So, that made me a senior now. Definitely a big change.

            My lopsided smirk had sort of grown into my face. My big green doe eyes rimmed with a lot of eye make up, non too girly either. I ran a hand through my long golden hair, now accompanied by a side bang and beanie. But, I always dressed like that. Me and Alex used to always trade skinny jeans and I would use his straighteners, because let’s face it, it was just something we did.

            Before he left and scarred me for good.

            I started to turn away, when a familiar sight caught my eye. My tattoo. My very own, freaking tattoo, that was located on my lower stomach, that hurt like a bitch. That bore the bastard’s name like he was some sort of god. Which he wasn’t, but it would kill me to get it removed. I secretly hoped he still bore my name on his lower stomach as well; a reminder that he was once a good person. I did turn away then, fully, and made my way to my overflowing closet.

            After slipping on some lace undergarments – not that Chad would be getting into those, because, ew, he was my brother! – I looked for something else to wear. My eyes skimmed across some skinny jeans, and after some consideration, I decided on white skinnies with black lace tights under them. Then, a “Come to my place, and let’s put on a smiley face,” pink with black writing tee shirt. I slipped on some multi – colored converse and a kitty cat beanie, and I was ready.

            The doorbell rang not a second after. I didn’t hurry to get it. In fact, I took my time in the bathroom, plastering my already eyeliner and eye shadow loaded eye with more, paling my complexion with more than enough foundation, and straightening my hair carefully before putting on my beanie. I spritzed myself with some vanilla body spray, before the front door slammed open. I jumped. Was Chad really that violent?

            There was multiple heavy thumps up the carpeted stairs, and before I could slam the door in his face, Chad burst through. “Oh, Summer! Summer Davis!” He sung. I rolled my eyes. No attraction whatsoever.

            I got a little mad, “What gives you the right to storm through here like that? This isn’t your house.”

            “Yet.” He smirked, then his face fell. “I wicked need to pee.”

            “That sucks giraffe abortions for you then, doesn’t it?” I responded, eyeing my reflection. I looked okay for a night on the town.

            Chad got down on one knee, “Please?” I eyed him once before nodding. He smiled and blew me a kiss before getting off of his knee and racing to the toilet. He unzipped his pants.

            “Aren’t you going to wait until I leave?” I asked, eyes bulging. What a pig.

            He winked, and I turned away, disgusted. “Sum 41, we’re gonna be related soon. Stop treating me like a complete stranger.”

            I heard the toilet flush before I whirled back around. Lucky for me, his pants were already zipped, and he was leaning against the pale white wall. “Exactly, Chad. We’re going to be related soon, so why even bother going out tonight? And Sum 41, really? I expected you to be more original than that.”

            “Well, I could always call you baby girl…” He cocked his head, asking. I shook my head furiously. “And I know. That’s why we’re going out tonight. I gotta get my kicks somehow.”

            “In your fucking dreams, pervert.” I crossed my arms stubbornly. He was not getting anywhere near me with his “kicks.”

            He took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up, all his attention still on me. He shrugged, “Suit yourself. But, come on, admit it: I’m adorable.” I giggled then, surprising both of us. I’d admit, he wasn’t horrible looking. Light blonde hair that fell into his magenta eyes, and angel bite piercings. They looked so yummy to nibble on…wait. What the eff was I on? I had to stop smoking weed.

            I looked at his cigarette hungrily. He sighed, and dug a new one out of his pack for me. I lit it up without a second thought. Nicotine withdrawal sucked ass. At least going on a “date” with my brother had it’s perks.

            I took a long drag, then exhaled it, “So, where are we going tonight?”

            He smiled evilly, “Oh, trust me. You’ll scream my name in lust when you find out where I’m taking a pretty little number like you.” He shoved his free hand into the pocket of his bright red skinny jeans, which he stole from my closet. And his black “Got Low?” tee made me think of the band that was performing while I was on my date with my brother.

            “Oh, Chad!” I jokingly screamed, before taking another drag. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I scoffed. Pervert.

            He finished his cigarette and stomped it out on my bathroom floor, then took my free hand and led me out to his motorcycle. I stomped out my smoke before getting on the back of the cherry red amazingness. He handed me a helmet, but I threw it to the side. He shrugged, and did the same with his. Then we took off.

            I nearly fainted when we got to the stadium. “Uh, Chad. What are we doing here?”

            He looked at me like I was stupid, before retrieving two tickets from his back pocket, “We’re here for the concert.” I gulped. Oh, don’t tell me. But, yes, as their tour bus pulled up, I realized what Chad Baker had mistakenly done.

            He had taken my to an All Time Low concert.