2 kids

Run

Alex.

Run, Alex, run.

Why is it always me?

If getting constantly in trouble is a superpower you can possess, I exceed it. And along with that excellent talent comes the ability to forget reasons immediately.

Though there exists a perfectly logical explanation for why I'm being chased by our security, I've unfortunately forgotten what I did this time. It's fundamentally simple – I've done yet another thing that set off a whole chain reaction of trouble leading to this very moment.

I push myself between two young women carrying some papers and a coffee. I shout a 'sorry' over my back, but continue running.

Backstage truly is a place where all kinds of stuff happen. When it comes to me, though, it involves trouble. And because I'm such a good friend, I always include Ace too. Ace has recently started to blame our age for it, but people argue that being nineteen and twenty means we should understand what responsibility and maturity means. Well, I should've picked that concept up years ago, but decided to ignore it when I was thirteen.

We run past Mae and Parker. Mae, unlike Parker, shoots us a glare. Not surprised, not startled, more annoyed. "What the fuck guys!?" I blow her a kiss as I jump over a black box. "What did you do this time?"

In unison Ace and I shout a 'I don't know' back at her and turn left. The adrenaline has taken over my body and I cannot stop running. I can feel it pumping through my veins, mixing with my blood. Every cell in my body is awake, working at full speed. It's like a drug – almost the best I've ever had.

Although I'm aware we haven't done anything illegal, for a split second I get the impression we have. The feeling I'm being chased by the authorities consumes my mind and I have to force those thoughts away. The adrenaline has spread to every single cell in my body, trapping it in that feeling. Almost identical to all those times when I ran away from angry people, hid in dark alleyways and crashed at Cal's.

I look to my left. Ace's speeding like his life depends on this run. Adrenaline almost makes his eyes shine, droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. But even so an adrenaline smirk resting on his face. And I know he thinks and feels exactly what I do. For just a split second, all the life drained from us has returned. For just a split second, running through the corridors of this arena, we feel alive.

Maybe some people secretly meet up backstage, or exchange love letters via staff members. There's room for whatever romantic scenario one thinks of. We're attempting to find ways to remind us of our old life. Small parts we can bring into this new one.

Something we're not careful with enough.

We make a sharp turn left, then immediately right. Our names echo down the hallway, and I anxiously look around. We're gotten too far from the area we're allowed to be. Wandered somewhere far off, where the corridors are getting smaller, and the number of doors is increasing.

Suddenly Ace stops, almost goes flying into a blue door. Yanking it open he reaches for my arm, yanking me inside after him. He shuts the door immediately, panting and listening to the footsteps outside.

We're going to be in so much trouble with our management.

"What happened?" I ask panting for breath. My lungs are on fire, yet still consumed by the adrenaline.

He furrows his brows, shrugging. "I have no idea."

We're too young to experience memory loss. I recall the events of yesterday and this morning, but nothing stands out. Nothing makes me reconsider if it perhaps couldn't have led us to this moment. A chain reaction that escalated to this – but what led to it, neither of us can recall.