The Edge Of Yesterday

Chapter 11

Our show in Chicago was weird. The crowd watching us was drunk as fuck, and a bunch of guys in the audience had a brawl with each other halfway through the show, which resulted in security having to drag them out of there. 

Alex had also got his hands on some pot and got completely drunk, and was singing Christmas carols with some guy he had met outside of a show very loudly. Mind you, it was still the middle of the summer. Christmas wasn't anytime soon. 

Backstage after that show, after we had finished playing and were just hanging out behind the curtains, a really pretty guy came up to me. He had long, shaggy blond hair and bright blue eyes. I didn't feel any sort of attraction towards him - I just thought that he looked good.

You see, just because you find someone pretty doesn't mean that you'd want to be in a romantic relationship with them. You just think that they're pretty. It's like how you find things such as fairy lights and butterflies - you find them visually pleasing and like looking at them, but you wouldn't want to be in a relationship with one of those things. At least I hope you don't. 

That was how I felt about that guy. He was next to me, and talking to me about music. I laughed at any joke he made and would respond to whatever question he asked me, but I ended up zoning out halfway through the conversation, my mind a blank sheet of paper. 

The guy then gazed at me with those crystal eyes of his. They sure were pretty. I wished I had blue eyes like that. "Hey, do you mind if I kiss you?"

Without thinking, I said 'kiss me."

And so he did.

It wasn't a super passionate French kiss or anything - just a soft peck on the lips. His lips were soft, but also not soft at the same time. His breath smelled like minty toothpaste. The kiss was okay, but it just didn't spark up anything in me, you know that romantic feeling in talking about, right? That one where you just feel pure love, like you're floating in the air, on cloud 9? Yeah, I just didn't feel that at all.

Anyways, I laughed nervously. A bit of my lipstick was left on the guys lips, turning his mouth a soft scarlet. 

"It looks like you're wearing her lipstick." Alex called out, sitting in the other corner of the room with the guy that he had met. Rosie was also sitting with those two, and she looked unhappy. 

Unhappy was an understatement. She was completely and utterly pissed off.

I continued talking to that guy about bands and whatnot, until it was announced time for the tour bus to leave. The guy sighed upon hearing that. 

"Avril," he said. "Here's my number" he handed me a piece of paper, torn off of a newspaper, with his number written delicately on it in a semi-sloped handwriting. 

"Thank you." I said. "I'll call you later." I wasn't sure if I meant it or not. I probably didn't.

Back on the tour bus, we had to ride for the next hour or half. Rosie was suddenly as quiet as a church mouse, not uttering a single word. Something was up. 

"Rosie?" I asked nervously, like a child. 

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

She didn't say anything in response, instead, she went back to staring at the ceiling.

Things would've been silent if Alex just hadn't brought that drunk guy into the van with him. They had stopped singing, thankfully, but now they were rambling to each other about stupid, incoherent shit, and laughing hysterically about it as well. At least they were having fun.