Complicated (Alex Gaskarth)

When You're Gone (How Much I Need You Right Now)

The event gets rescheduled, and, as such, has Elizabeth reconsidering whether or she'll attend. 

The universe was out to get me, wasn't it?

Otherwise, why would the concert be pushed back a week?

For a potential hockey game. As such, the venue was going to be loaned to the Rockets of Laval in anticipation for a home playoff game.

In essence, a game that may or may not happen.

As if that wasn't enough, the whole reason why I wanted to go in the first place would be no more. Yes, as Ticketmaster wrote in their official statement, with not a shred of remorse at that, "Please note that All Time Low will no longer be a part of the show."

It felt like déja vu from when I had bought tickets for Simple Plan in 2016 mainly for All Time Low who were support, but that concert ultimately got postponed to February of the next year because Pierre needed vocal surgery, so I'd ended up seeing the Plain White T's and Set It Off instead.

Further considering these new circumstances, the latter has me conjuring a list of reasons not to go, which, unsurprisingly, is nearly averse to the one I'd established of motivation to go.

The glaring rationality behind not attending, though, was that that the person whom I truly wanted to see wouldn't even be there.

Granted, my tickets would still be honoured for Sunday, May 1st. Inasmuch, I'd surely find yourself singing along to songs I'd committed to memory, namely "Hey, hey, you you/ I don't like your girlfriend" and the iconic, "He was a punk/ she did ballet/ What more can I say?" while also discovering new music, and, likewise, hearing full versions of songs, which were bound to be played, especially "Flames," and "Bite Me." Both of which I only knew the opening verses, respectively, "I still burn for you like the sun burns in the sky" and "Ay oh. You should have known better than to f*ck with someone like me/Ay oh. Forever and ever you're gonna wish I was your wifey."

I'd even make the amends to accommodate my work schedule the following Monday, set at 8 AM sharp. For instance, doing my weekly planning on Saturday, losing a few hours of sleep because I wouldn't come home before midnight, at least, and having to reply comically to my clients and the employees I oversaw when they'd ask you why I had a sore throat and baggy eyelids.

But in hindsight, it'd be all for nothing if I couldn't see Alex.

Judging by the range of comments left on the Facebook page, from the minority killjoys, that is, "Everybody's upset that All TIme Low won't be playing but if it wasn't for Avril Lavigne, they wouldn't even be coming in the first place!" to the very disappointed, "This sucks! I just bought tickets to see All Time Low," I wasn't the only one to be upset by the major change.

And so, just as Ticketmaster had no sympathy in suddenly messing with the lineup, I similarly feel no guilt in clicking the "Refund" button available on the event's homepage. Rather, at the possibility of not receiving said refund in seven to fourteen days as Ticketmaster promised, resoluteness builds in my veins.

As well as apprehension, at the thought of having to Skype Alex once more to discuss the possibilities of still seeing each other.

Only this time, from my kitchen table, in my work uniform, including a polo, slacks and a sweater all inscribed with the grocery store's logo,

"Technically, I can still make it to the Quebec City show. "

Said with enthusiasm, but bordering on uncertainty, judging by my raised shoulders, the proposition has Alex, dressed in the same green jumper he'd worn during our initial meeting, and the same yellow beanie on the second, on the other side of the mobile's screen, frowning his eyebrows and demanding precisions.