[OliverSykes] The Only Way I'll Really Smile

One.

I want this, I know that I do, to go and have fun, but I'm going to see my students there, I know I will, and that’s weird, it’s uncomfortable. She claims that we’re not going to have to wait in line, it doesn’t bother me if we have to wait in line, but I really don’t want to run into students; it’s not okay and it’s awkward.

Like, who wants to see his or her teacher at a concert, where people mosh and where people scream and all of these things. I wouldn’t want to see my teacher here. Especially if that teacher is on the guest list. They’re going to think that I'm sleeping with someone in a band; oh my, they’re going to think I'm a groupie.

If anything, these kids are groupies. The girls are, anyway. Really, they're gross. I've heard them talk about all the things they want to do to these guys in these bands. It’s completely unnecessary for them to think like that. It’s as if they really stand a change with guys in their mid to late twenties. It’s entertaining, really, when I think about it, but at the time it’s annoying and I just want them to shut the hell up.

I feel like if these pictures of me backstage with these guys covered in tattoos with beer bottles and bottles of whiskey in their hands made their way onto my Facebook, I would be fired. They probably wouldn’t even give me a reason, because they don’t have to tell me why, and I would be jobless because these assholes like to drink and do drugs before and after a show and have their pictures taken while doing it.

This job means a lot to me, there are so many benefits, and I get summers off, all while making a decent amount of money, enough to live on, especially since I have my Masters and not just my Bachelors. At one point, I thought about going back to England to go to university, but I couldn’t do that, that was too far away from my life here, in the States, I couldn’t just up and leave like I did when I was younger.

It’s been a little over ten years since we moved here – my dad, my mom, my brother, and I. Actually, it’s been almost twelve years. It’s different here. Not as much rain. More people who either have manners or don’t, there’s no in between.

“Reed, come on. Hurry up. It’s cold out here and Austin is waiting.” Bailey groans, wrapping her arms around herself, the collar of her coat pressing up against her neck, swallowing her. It’s Austin’s coat, I know it is, it’s so long on her, it looks like a dress, he’s about half a foot taller than her; they’re really cute together, perfect even, and I don’t even use that word lightly in this case.

Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest, the leather gloves covering my hands brushing against the old leather jacket. It’s an old jacket, one from a friend back in England, it was big then, and it’s still a little big now, I haven’t really grown much, I guess I hit puberty at a younger age. I love this jacket, with all my heart, it’s just a plain leather jacket, but the story behind it is special, I’ll never forget him even though it’s clear that he forgot all about me.

The chill of the Manhattan air hits against my cheeks, painting them red, and I groan as I see a few of my students standing in the VIP line, waiting for the meet and greet that doesn’t start for over an hour. There’s no one else there, in that line, there are people in the general admission line, and it’s already starting to wrap around the building.

This is where she met Austin, I was here with her; I knew the guy who was their tour manager at the time from high school, and we lost touch when he flew out to California to try to get into the music industry. As a joke, I asked him if he could introduce us to the band, and he took it seriously, bringing us backstage. That’s when Austin and Bailey became Austin and Bailey, the future Mr. and Mrs. Austin Carlile.

“Ms. Taylor, what the hell are you doing here?” Biting down on my lower lip, I turn to look at Mike, knowing it’s him; he’s the only one stupid enough to throw curse words out like they’re part of proper language. “You listen to Bring Me The Horizon and Of Mice And Men?”

Raising an eyebrow, I tilt my head to the side, finally realizing why Bailey conveniently didn’t remember who was touring with them, because Oliver Sykes is the friend who forgot about me.