Mr. Cinderella (5SOS) {discontinued}

(5) Acting Innocent Is Harder When You're Guilty

The second I pick up, my hands start quivering violently. Calm down, I instruct myself, but to no avail. Hoping that maybe it would be easier to put the phone onto loud speaker than to juggle the phone by my ear with trembling fingers, I press the button and Tyler's voice floods through the corridor."Hey, how was it?"

My hands are shaking so much that I almost drop my phone (it wouldn't be much of a loss though, it's a pretty crappy phone). "H-how was what?" He knows. He must know. He knows, and I'm dead.

There's a scuffle on the other end of the line, so I guess Tyler's fidgeting like he normally does. "The gig thing," he answers, although his voice is kind of muffled. Relief begins to course through my veins, but it's short lived, because the memories of what happened less that five minutes ago quickly pumps tension back into my body.

"Oh, um . . . it hasn't started yet," I reply, checking the time on my phone screen: 7.15pm. I hope it hasn't started yet - time flies when you're having fun, I guess. Except, I am not having fun, I'm having an internal battle with myself, and that really isn't a fun thing to be doing, trust me. "Actually, I think it's starting now, so I should probably go," I lie, quickly pressing the 'end call' button before my boyfriend can reply. My heart hammers inside my chest, and I cover my face. Stupid guilt.

Hurriedly, I rush back to the front of the building (which, given that I have absolutely no clue where I am or where the hell I am going, takes surprisingly little time) and find several uniformed adults lined up in the foyer, guarding the doors to the main hall where the boys are set to perform. "Excuse me," I say, waving at a muscular looking man in a white shirt that complements his dark skin tone. He turns to face me, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "Hi, um, you wouldn't happen to know where I could find a sink? Or a mirror? Or, preferably, both?" I smile sweetly, hoping the security guard or bouncer or whatever he is will buy my act if innocence - if he does, then hopefully Tyler will too. Not likely, but worth a try. Of course, I'll have to tell him at some point (Tyler, not the bouncer) but I need to buy myself some time to figure out how.

Thankfully, the guy - whose name badge reads 'Martin' - gives me directions to a bathroom, no questions asked. "Thanks, Marty," I respond, flashing a smile. He nods warily before I disappear down the corridor again. "Thank God," I praise when I finally emerge from the clean little bathroom a couple of minutes later. My hair is slightly wet where I have tried to rinse out some mud, but at least it isn't matter any more. Also, my face is free from dirt of any kind, so of and when I see anyone I know, they should actually be able to recognise me, while I will be able to avoid ridicule. Hopefully, anyway.

Feeling refreshed, I trot back down the corridor the same way I came, and eventually I find myself in the main hall.  Scanning the room, I am overwhelmed with a slightly frantic feeling as I realise I can't see Brandy anywhere.  5 Seconds of Summer aren't on stage yet, and I assume they're getting ready somewhere, although there is a small crowd gathering near the stage, and more people are streaming steadily through the doors.  I peer back towards the foyer to check for Brandy there, but I can't see her.  Instead, I catch a glimpse of Martin and offer a smile and a small wave.  He avoids my gaze, looking embarrassed, but I shrug, deciding that if I'm going to ask anyone to help me figure out my friend's whereabouts, it may as well be him - after all, he does work here.  Plus, it's kind of fun annoying him.

"Hey, Marty," I say when I reach him.  "Long time no see."

Martin squares his shoulders and straightens up so that he towers a good few feet above me.  Gulping, I offer yet another smile - this one a lot meeker than the rest.  "Have you seen a girl, about five foot three, dirty-blonde hair, muddy clothes?"

Grunting, Martin reluctantly turns to one of his co-workers, a petite redhead dressed in a near-identical, but clearly more feminine variation of his uniform.  "Hey, Kelly!  Did that kid go back with the band?"