The Selfish Machines

One :: Shana

Shana // Long Island, NY // 12:56 p.m.

I smoothed out my black dress, tuggingon it every few seconds. I was beginning to second guess myself on ifI chose the right attire. Was I too dressy? Was this dress tooshort? Did I look like a slut? Is that what bands look for in a merchgirl?

I pulled down my visor and opened themirror. I groaned. Of course, Ithought, this mirror would make even Beyonce look like shejust crawled out of a toilet. Imade sure my make-up was still intact even though I just applied itno more then twenty-five minutes ago and checked it every time I cameto a red light. I fluffed out my long, curly, color-treated red hair,letting out a long puff of air.

Then, I looked downat my chest. My dress was a little low cut—but I merely had B's—Ithink I'm good. After awkwardly adjusting my boobs while searchingaround the parking lot to make sure no one was around.

Finally, I steppedout of my hand-me-down black 2004 Honda Civic my older brother ownedbefore me. The door creaked when I slammed it shut. I rolled my eyesat it as always, and headed nervously into the building.

I followed thedrawn on arrows on printer paper taped down the hallways and followedthem until I came to a door that reminded me of a college classroomdoor. I took another deep breath and opened the door, steppinginside.

There was a longtable in the middle of the room with chairs surrounding it like you'dfind in an office building. Six guys sat at the table: all talking.But once I entered the room, all their eyes landed on me. One of theguys in the middle with a lot of tattoos and quite a handsome facedropped the pen he was clicking with his teeth.

I smiled shyly andgave them all a little wave. The four guys in the middle waved backat me with their jaws slightly ajar. I cleared my throat awkwardlyand finally, one of the guys gestured to the seats on the other sideof the table.

"Sit whereveryou'd like."

I sat down rightacross from the guy who dropped his pen, who then whispered somethingto the other tatted guy next to him. They all stared me down likehungry lions. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"So," a guywith long, curly brown hair, a snapback, and no tattoos leanedforward. He rested his folded hands on the table. "What's yourname?"

"My name's ShanaEvans." I smiled. "I'm twenty-four years old, I'm a virgo, and Ihate dairy products."

The guy with longhair snapped his fingers and pointed at me. "Are you vegan?"

"No."

"Are you totallycool with spending time with four vegetarians for an entire summer?"

"I mean...Ibarely eat meat anyway."

Long haired boynodded and smiled with a weird look on his face. He put his hand outto me. "I'm Vic Fuentes, lead singer for Pierce The Veil." Ishook it, smiling. The guy next to him put out his hand next. "TonyPerry, I play guitar." I turned to the guy that dropped his penupon my entrance. He smirked at me. "Mike Fuentes, drummer." Hewinked.

"You guys arebrothers?" I asked after shaking Mike's hand. I looked from him toVic. They both nodded.

"Wicked cool."I said, smiling, finally turning to the last guy from the band. Hesmiled and shook my hand.

"Jaime Preciado,bassist."

"And these twogentleman arrrrre..." Vic started pointing to the older gentlemennext to him. "Our tour manager, Kevin, he was our manager duringthe Collide With The Sky tour—which I'm assuming you know nothingabout because if you did, you would've probably walked into this roomwith wide eyes when you saw us sitting less than twenty feet awayfrom you. Because let me tell you, I've already had two of those thismorning."