Complicated (Alex Gaskarth)

Runaway (Forget about Everything)

Following a high-energy show, Elizabeth awaits her imminent encounter with Alex. What shall be her faith?

Above photo as visual. Credit to owner.

Not to poorly quote U2, but today was a beautiful day.

Well, it was going to be a beautiful day, judging by the way I woke up with the sun tickling my nose; the birds sweetly chirping outside my open bedroom window and anticipation flowing freely through my veins.

Not to be too superstitious, but it felt as though these phenomena were an indicator that tonight's encounter with Alex would be positive, in the sense that this looming issue would finally be forgiven, on both his and my end's.

I just had to start by getting through the day first.

And what better way to add luck to my day than by donning my "Some Kind of Disaster" long sleeve (of which took four months to arrive from Australia)?

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Well, the day of birthday errands wasn't tiring, but it wasn't exactly reenergizing either.

Picking up the balloon arrangement one town over; visiting both my grandmothers at the cemetery in honor of Mother's Day; buying party supplies from the dollar store to match the "Barney's 123s" theme and finally driving back to the grocery store to pick up the custom-made Barney cake I'd ordered two weeks ago.

By the time I'd arrived home, I'd had just enough time (and nervous energy, which had been fueling me all day) to eat supper, change into my All Time Low "I'm the Crew T-shirt" and "Baltimore" hoodie before being chauffeured off to the venue with my brother, courtesy of our parents, who, as decided months before, would eat out, while I rekindled my romance with your significant other.

And now here I was, waiting in the long queue of people feeling completely out of place among the varying degree of attendees: from the casually dressed fans, parents accompanying their children, adult fans, to those adorning the Avril Lavigne signature uniform: white schoolgirl blouse, skater miniskirts, combat boots, fishnets stockings, knee-high socks, checkered tie and hair streaked pink at the ends.

Differentiating me from the others, however, I come to realize, as I stand there, shivering in the late May evening, was that, unlike these people who'd go home with those who had accompanied them in the first place, I'd be bringing home one extra passenger, a member of one of the opening acts, at that.

Then again, that is if things were to go smoothly.

For now, though, what seemed more important than what was to happen in a few hours' time was having the attendant scan my tickets and rushing to the All Time Low merch table.

Which upon a first look and even a second proved to be non-existent. Ah well, merchandising probably didn't deem it necessary for a three-night tour. Besides, I could always buy some more online. Not that I really needed it, but you know, just in case.

Feeling no necessity to stand in the venue's lobby, I quickly locate my seats, seemingly the best ones I've ever had. Being placed in the first row of the right side stage and having a barrier separating me from general admission, I was getting a perfectly clear view of the stage, even if all I saw was a Grandson flag acting as a backdrop and instruments strategically placed about.

Then after a short period of waiting began the first set out of four, the background music and comfortable lighting paused in favor of the Toronto natives' act.