Oh, Calamity (Alex Gaskarth/ ATL fan-fic)

Lullabies

Marina's POV:

I wonder what the hell they were talking about. It had been a few days, and I had come to the conclusion that Kianna was just flipping out over the tv. I was out today with the girls, scearching through an old record store. I was actually looking, but everybody else found it pointless.

"Why do you even buy vinyls? You don't have a turntable." Colby whined.

"I'm saving up for one. I mean, have you seen my record collection?"

"Yes."

"Of course you have. That was a ritorical question." I said without even looking up. "Holy shit! They have Take Off Your Pants and Jacket on vinyl! I think I need a shopping cart."

"It's a waste of money." Colby rolled her eyes.

"It's a source of joy." I replied. They were always giving me shit for being eccentric.

"So what's up with you and Alex? Are you gonna make your move at prom?" Kianna questioned.

I gave her a glare. She blew a rasberry.

"You guys know how I feel about him." I went back to the records.

"Well, what about how we feel? What's that saying, 'Always consider what your friends think' or something?" Emily questioned.

"You just made that up." I countered.

"You make up sayings all the time!" Kianna said.

"Yeah, but I'm so philosophical that it makes sense." 

"You're so full of yourself that you think it makes sense." Colby approached me. "C'mon, you do really like Alex."

"I just don't know how involved I wanna get with him. I'm a little apprehensive, you know."

"Why?" they all asked in unison.

"Lisa! I don't care how many times Alex says he's not gonna get back together with her because he always does. She has way more on me than I'll ever have on her." I went to the checkout.

"Face it, Rina. You're a beautiful rockstar with thousands of fans willing to defend you and Alex with their lives. Lisa's a nobody. Just think about it." Kianna said.

Hmm. I suppose they were right. But then again, it all depended on how Alex felt.

____________________________________________________________

I was sitting alone in my hotel room, appreciating the silence. It was rare in this lifestyle. The cursor was blinking on my screen. I wasn't sure what to type. How do you ask someone for money? It was for the right cause, right? I'd been working on a charity project called the Red Ink Project for a few months now, and it was time for expansion. I was trying to send an email out to a few other bands, to see if they might be interested in helping out. 

The Red Ink Project sells t-shirts, tank tops, bracelets, necklaces, and sweatpants to raise money for people with self-harm addiction. I give out non-toxic red pens to fans so they don't have to hurt themselves. Apart from the band, this project means more to me than anything else in the world. It's partnered hand-in-hand with the band so kids will want to buy the shirts and stuff more. Lately, it's been getting really big, and I want to expand. But at the same time, it's such a sensitive subject.

I put down my laptop and collapsed on the bed. Thoughts were dancing through my head at a million miles a minute. I picked up my guitar and threw around a few chords. I'd been working on a riff lately, but every set of lyrics I wrote for it were never to my standards. It felt like such a begging riff, but lyrics came out whiny. This was driving me nuts. I needed some air.