The Popstar and The Bad Boy

Isn't That Sweet?

It took twenty minutes to find a good parking lot for a concert, for an artist he'd never heard of. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he came in the first place, and he wasn't entirely sure if he even wanted to get out of the car. In the driver's seat was his friend, Allison, who finally paused the annoying, high-pitched garbage that was Pop. With her phone weighing her hand down, just about to slip through her grasp, the brunette tilted her head and pouted. Felix slid down in his seat and crossed his arms.

"Come on! It's Camellia Sculptor! She just released a new single too!" she squealed, causing the car to shake around.Old piece of shit. He flipped onto his side. His leather jacket slid over the soft fabric of her Honda Accord. His feet kicked around a little, knocking all the little cups that spilled out of their holders because she made a sharp turn into the parking spot. Allison lurched forward and grabbed his forearm. She shook it violently. "Please, please, please! I'll never bother you for anything again! And you might see some girls you like-"

He pushed her off of him and continued to face away from her. He could feel her staring at him. He wondered if it was too late to catch an Uber home. He wasn't even sure why the fuck he was there. One minute they were "going to the bar" and the next he was going to see some unknown pop artist who probably only used autotune. She couldn't be as good as Allison said she w-

Thump

Felix winced in pain and rubbed his lower back.

"See, this is why you should wear seatbelts. You wouldn't be flying out of cars."

He stumbled up, latching on to any part of the car that could support his weight. "Well if you weren't a fly up my ass, I would've been more receptive."

His friend playfully rolled her eyes and dragged him over to the long line of ticket holders. He squinted. "Is this a festival or her tour?"

"Festival! Her album doesn't drop until August 23!"

Felix nodded. Made sense. Why would all these people come for some random artist?

"Trust me, you're going to love her!"

"Highly doubt that."

"You know, if you're going to be such a stinker, you can go back to the car."

He looked behind him and, for some reason, the walk back seemed way longer than what it took to get to their current spot. He scoffed and tucked his hands in his pocket. "Nah, I'm good."

"Suit yourself."

It took ages, but they were finally at the concert. No notable acts, from his end at least. The people next to and behind and in front of him were sweaty and smelly, his body jostled around the sea of people yet it was tightly packed like a sardine in a can. Did he mention how wet they all were? Allison was deep into it, knowing every song from artists he wasn't even sure existed until today.

But she got really excited when Camellia came on the stage.

He couldn't see her well, he couldn't even really see Allison well. The crowd oversung her though. Allison was a die-hard Sculptor, but God, he didn't know she'd be the main attraction. She sounded live from what he could hear and, to be truthful, she sounded much better with a deeper register. He didn't understand a single word, but because everyone was being vicious and acted like they were singing to some cheating partner, he figured it was about heartbreak. Even more of a reason to get out of there.

He didn't bother Allison. Instead, Felix, after bumping and removing people out of his way, headed straight to the concession stand to get something to eat. He'd rather just stay hungry. $10 for a soggy burger? $8 for a drink?

This is why he hated going to festivals, or anywhere that had too many obnoxious fans. They'll be so deluded and dehydrated from singing about -- what, coffee?-- that they'd be willing to pay full price for these highly-processed foods. So he just went back to Allison. Or, at least, he thought he was going back. Somehow, through the endless number of people who were singing and dancing to the maybe-not-so-unknown popstar, he ended up on the side where security guards were. Since his ears stopped hurting, she must've stopped singing. He peeked over, trying to see if he could maybe spot a better way to get through, but a guard cut his view.

"I'm trying to find my way back-"

"You can go back."

"Yeah, asshole, but I want directions on how to-"

"You can go back." The guard laced his fingers.

"But how? Are you fuckin' dense or something?"

Something clicked.

"No, but I'm about to put a dent in yo' head if you don't-"

The clicking intensified. Some blonde girl gently waved the fucker away. When he didn't leave immediately, she gave him the look. His stoic demeanor faltered and he stuck up his nose before shifting to the side. She shook her head, slightly smirking under the bangs that fell along her face. He could barely make out her features. Not only was her head slightly tilted down, but she was about a whole foot shorter than him. Felix leaned to the side and before he could see her on his own, she piped up.

"I'm sorry about Richard. He can be a little rough," she muttered, shooting a glare at her security. "But he's only doing his job."

She had the bluest eyes he'd ever seen, rivaling his own. But hers were an uncomfortably warm blue, as if you were relaxing on the beach and staring at the ocean, with a light breeze to come along and lift some of the heat away.

"Camellia Sculptor."

And how did her hair manage to stay up like that? He was sure he saw her move on the stage quite a bit, more than any concert, festival, whatever he'd seen. Not a bead of swear ruined her makeup. It was as if she never performed in the first place.

He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and quickly held his arm. Camellia pulled her hand back, but then hesitantly stuck it out again.

Oh, Right. He shook her hand. "Felix."

Richard the Security guy whispered something in her ear and her team started to move from the stage. She looked over at them and back to him. "Well, Felix, it was good meeting you! Hopefully we can see each other again!"

She waved goodbye and went off in her small, red heels, chasing her crew before they left her in the dust.

Anyway, he found his way back to the car and sure enough, a few minutes later, Allison came too. He explained the entire situation to her so she wouldn't accuse him of being a fake friend.

"You WHAT? Why didn't you take a picture with her?"

"Why would I?"

She huffed and stormed to the driver's side, plopping down onto her seat. She stabbed her key into the ignition and groaned, turning up the music to 100.

"You're not actually mad about-"

"YES I am! Don't put words in my mouth! You talked to THEE Camellia Sculptor and didn't take a photo? Do you know how much that could've been worth?"

"50 cents?"

"Ugh! You just don't get it, do you?"

"Nope."

Allison sighed and sunk her shoulders. "You're a nut job, you know that?"