Stage Fright (On Hold)

FOUR

Claire was all too happy when the show was over and she was led far, far away from the giant mass of writhing bodies. Not that the music had been completely awful, to her surprise, but rather because she hated being stuck in a crowd. They made her feel slightly sick and like she suddenly desperately needed to be clean.

May had a strange sort of satisfied grin on her face. She kept glancing sideways at Claire as they walked, her grin growing wider each time she did. 

"What?" Claire finally caved and asked. It was what May had been waiting for, and though it had certainly felt like and eternity to Claire, she hadn't had to wait that long. 

May's grin only grew wider, to Claire's amazement. She hadn't thought faces were made to stretch quite that much. "You had fun." There was no mistaking the satisfaction in May's voice as she proclaimed what she  was certain was a fact to the world. She felt she had reached her goal, and Claire wasn't about to take that from her, whether it was true or not. Which it wasn't, exactly. It wasn't so much that she found the situation fun as it was adequately distracting. Though, if she had, for a moment, found it almost, possibly, the teensiest bit fun, it would have been because she had momentarily taken leave of her senses in the drama of the day. 

Claire was spared actually answering when she almost ran face-first into someone's back. She discovered this was because the group of quivering fangirls had stopped. They were all listening to Sean, or rather, hanging on to each and every word that fell past his lips. Without having to listen to him, Claire took note of the fact that he was speaking in the same horribly bubbly way he had greeted her. Suddenly her chewed fingernails became one of the most fascinating things she had ever seen. If it weren't for May, she probably wouldn't have noticed when she was supposed to move again, she was focusing so hard on not paying attention.

They were herded into an open room, lined with carious couches, chairs, stools, and tables. And there they sat, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.

For Claire, it was complete and utter torture, yet the waves of excitement rolling off of the other girls never died down. If anything, they became more ecstatic with every passing minute. It was mind-boggling to her, how they could find something like the mere idea of sitting in the same room as someone else so exhilarating. She would have been much more comfortable at home, still in her pj's, moping and watching Netflix. 

May, on the other hand, seemed to be in the center of her comfort zone. It was almost like she's been preparing for this moment for a long time, like it was a turning point for her, a milestone.  Claire found herself almost wishing she could have the same excitement and ease of mind May had. She had often envied May her ability to just let go and be in the moment. As someone who tended to overthink every tiny thing, it was a difficult feat for her to just simply let loose.  Parties and people had always been May's thing. Claire was much better with small groups and intimate friendships.

An hour-and-a-half after the group had been shuffled in, the door opened again. the cheers and clapping that filled the room told Claire everything she needed to know withough ever having to look up. The band had just walked in.

It was several minutes before any form of real conversation could take root, because of the hysterical reactions of half the girls. Again, Claire couldn't quite wrap her head around how these boys none of them had ever even met could be so important. She could see the music striking the right cords in people and thus being important to them, and even them then admiring the artists. Hysterics though, were just taking it way too far.

Claire had taken one of the stools when she first walked in, and hidden herself in a back corner, halfway behind a rather leaf-y fake plant. It was the closest to having breathing room she had gotten all afternoon. This was both good and bad. Good, because she needed some space. Bad, because space meant she could think again, and thinking meant her mind had the time to turn to him.