Making It (On Hold Indefinitely)

0.3

0.3

Brooke wakes me up late. She wakes me up after she's already showered, curled her hair and dusted on a bit of make up.

"You looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn't want to wake you." She claims as she tugs her shirt over her head. It's a sample t-shirt of the bands. Though one wouldn't be able to tell because it looks exactly the same as the one they sell at the merchandise stand.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, flipping the covers back in the process. I rake my fingers through my hair and wince as it snags on a few tangles here and there.

"I figured you'd wake up to the smell of my curling wand." A guilty expression coats her voice and when I turn around to face her she's already dressed. Buttoning her jeans and tugging the dusty brown shirt over her hips just a bit. It fits her nicely. It actually flatters her skin tone instead of washing her out like it does me. The reason why we traded. 

"Yeah, well now I only have twenty minutes to get ready." I scoff, standing up from the bed and stretching out in a yawn – fisting my hand in front of my mouth.

Digging through my bag I take out the outfit I was planning on wearing tonight. It was a variation of Brooke's outfit but instead of a dusty brown color mine was a deep shade of navy blue and paired with white jeans. I take a quick shower and wrangle my hair up in a sloppy bun before brushing my teeth and fixing what little make up I could. Thanks to Brooke's tutorials and personal workshops I manage not to look like a total clown before exiting the bathroom in just my underwear and bra. Brooke looks up from her phone the second I'm tugging on my jeans.

"You're going with your hair like that?" She raises a questioning brow at me. I nod my head, tugging on my shirt and careful not to mess up my make up.

"What's wrong with my hair." Fixing my shirt on my hips I rub on some lotion and reach for the leather jacket I had brought along. 

"It's just . . . nothing." She shakes her head, standing up and approaching me, gripping my wrist and thwarting me from grabbing said jacket. Before I know it she's plucking out a few strands and wiping gently at my brows before smiling at me. "Perfect. Taylor's going to drool over you."

Snatching my phone off the bed side table and tucking it into my back pocket I scoop up the leather jacket I laid out on the bed. Turning to Brooke she eyes me curiously before motioning towards the door for me to exit.

• – • – •

I watch as Brooke's cousin – Zachariah – slink his way out of the car. There's this air around him that breathes confidence, especially when he removes the shades from his face and tucks them away into his jacket. Shutting the car door he turns his gaze towards me and a soft smirk tilts at his lips.

"I know who Brookie's here for, but who are you here for?" He questions, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Once again he takes me in with his eyes, head to toe.

Though there's a look of intrigue in his eye, it doesn't linger for too long – figuring that I was already taken considering I was here with Brooke. 

"The drummer." I answer cooly, pivoting on my heels and turning my back towards Zach. Tucking my hands in to the pocket of my jacket and crunch along the gravel towards Babbles.

It's a cute little venue – on the outside, and the line out the door and around the building gives way that it can hold a lot more than it tells. I jump as an arm slumps around my shoulder and the smell of vanilla and coffee invade my senses. With tense muscles I brush of his arm.

"Char doesn't like to be touched sometimes. You have to catch her on a good day." Brooke mentions from my other side, not missing a beat and slipping her arm through the crook of my elbow.