The lights dropped, and a hush fell over the crowd. I grabbed my friend, Sarah's, arm in breathless anticipation. Finally, after waiting over half a decade, I was finally about to see my favourite singer in all the world: Justin Bieber.
Sarah grabbed my hand and squeezed. She was just as excited as I was. We were moshing at Justin!
This was my first concert, and, therefore, first time moshing. The supporting act, Guy Sebastian, was fantastic, and I'd had a taste of how hectic the mosh pit could be. But I figured I could take on hundreds of screaming girls. Even though I was considered short, I could see over most of their heads. Maybe when he was singing One Less Lonely Girl, he'd look out into the audience, and the spotlight would fall on me, and he'd invite me onstage and sing to me, and then declare his undying love for me, like in the fanfictions I love so much. I nearly squealed at the thought!
The tell-tale ticking from the first bar of What Do You Mean? began to play, and everyone began to scream. The intro went on for a lot longer than in the studio recorded version, but when the beat dropped at the beginning of the first verse, the curtain dropped on cue, and there he was. Justin. Drew. Bieber. I screamed louder than I'd ever screamed before.
We all began dancing and singing so loudly. I almost couldn't hear Justin at some points. I was shunted into and pushed so much, my whole body was numb.
"What do you mean!!!!!" I screamed completely out of key. I've always been an awful singer. Even in choir, my teacher told me to lip synch so I didn't throw all the other singers off.
Not that that shit matters. I was at Justin, so who cares right?
Just at that moment, someone shoved me from the back, and sent me sprawling to the floor in front of me. I clambered to my feet, confused. Who would do such a thing to me? I wondered. I turned around to see a blonde, white girl staring at me with a serious case of RBF.
"Can I help you?" I asked as politely as I could muster.
"Yeah! You can shut the fuck up, bitch. I can hardly hear Justin!" she retorted in an obviously fake American accent. She was clearly just putting it on to be cool and relevant, but her prominent Australian accent shone brightly through the façade.
"Look, I don't want any trouble..." I said, backing away with my hands up in front of my chest.
"Hoe, you already in trouble, bitch! You unleashed the ratchet ass powers within me, bitch!"
It was at this point that Sarah stepped in, being the awesome friend that she was.
"Alright, first off, you're being extremely racist with that accent, and second, would you just chill? We came here to have a good time, and honestly we're just feeling so attacked right now." Sarah gushed.
"DO YOU WANNA DANCE HOE?" The girl yelled.
Sarah turned to me. "She wants to dance with me now?" she asked, "I thought we were fighting!"
She turned back to the albino hoodrat and smiled. "I'm actually alright thanks. I have my dance partner here."
Sarah put her arm around my neck.
"I'd be happy to dance with you later though!" she offered.
"What the fuck hoe? You think I wanna actually dance with y'all? Fuck that gay shit!"
"Wow, that's really homophobic," replied Sarah.
She pulled out her phone.
"I really think my followers on tumblr would want to know about this." she said.
Just as Sarah was about to open the app, American Psycho knocked her phone out of her hand, and it dropped down
down
down
down
d
o
w
n
to the floor. A sickening crunch was heard; the telltale sound of an iPhone screen smashing.
The whole club went silent. Even Justin. Everyone was staring at Sarah's phone on the floor.
"Are you all kidding me? Fuck you all!" screamed Justin before storming offstage. He was probably pissed that we stole his thunder, but we didn't care at that point. All that mattered was checking the damage on that phone screen.
With tentative and shaky fingers, Sarah reached down and grasped her phone. It had landed face down, so the damage wasn't evident yet. Slowly, she flipped her phone around. Slowly...slowly...s...l...o...w...l...y...
"It's fine!" Sarah yelled.
The whole club erupted into cheers of praise. The Norman Reedus looking chick groaned, turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.
***
Since we'd kinda ruined the concert, as we waited outside in the lobby we let people punch us in the face as we walked past. We didn't get too many punches, only one from two women in their forties who were wearing 'Never Say Never' hoodies and purple Toms.
Once everyone had left the room, we stayed behind and sat at the bar.
"What can I get you two?" The bartender asked.
"Can I get two White Russians and six shots of tequila?" I asked.
"Sure," replied the bartender.
He got to work, mixing the drinks perfectly. When he was done, he gave us one White Russian and three shots each, but before he walked away, he stared intently at us. First at my face, then at Sarah's.
"Can I see some ID, girls?" he asked. He sounded suspicious, but we totally had him.
We both pulled out our student ID cards. We had him there. I bet he thought we weren't carrying our IDs. We showed him! He checked over them and nodded, handing them back.
"You guys are all good. Enjoy your drinks!" He said, and walked towards two boys that had just taken their seats at the other end of the bar.
"Wait!" I called.
He turned his head.
"How much are the drinks?" I asked.
He looked us both up and down, and replied, "On the house," with a wink.
I turned to Sarah, and she turned to me.
"I'm gonna fuck him." said Sarah.
"Don't do that." I replied.
"I'm gonna do it. That dick is mine."
