Transmission Z

Chapter Two

I was oh-so-gracefully diving into the third deserted concession stand when I heard it.

A dead silence followed by the ring of an electric chime.

The band that had opened for Band Z had been kicked off the stage, and now the real musicians were playing. The low beat of the bass started soon after the chimes sounded, sending the crowd, which I unfortunately wasn't a part of, into a frenzy of excited shouting. After that, I could barely make out the music over the noise of the excited concert-goers.

"Damn," I cursed, throwing an empty napkin dispenser out of the concession stand, "not only are they out of napkins, but I'm missing the concert. And after what I put up with to get here..." I stood up, got ready to climb out of the Kernal Pop's Popcorn, but had to quickly duck down again as the napkin dispenser I had thrown came back, nearly smacking me in the head. After peeking over the counter to make sure no other menacing objects, such as a large fountain drink or a bag of popcorn, were making a beeline towards my gorgeous face, I stood up again.

"Who's the jerk who's throwing things at me?" I shouted, scanning the immediate area for the person who had it in for me.

"I could ask you the same question, Missy," a man poked his head around the corner of the stand, allowing me to see his face and shoulders. Quite honestly, he wasn't bad looking. He actually fit in well on the opposite end of the spectrum from bad looking, but at that moment, I wasn't too entranced by his nice face or his great hair. He'd just thrown a napkin dispenser at me, and now he was looking at me with this smirk that made me want to smack him right then and there.

"What are you talking about? And Missy? What are you, my mother?"

"You tossed the napkin dispenser first," he replied, coming into full view. He was tall, with a flannel shirt, and faded jeans, which looked a little bit familiar.

"You snuck into the concert," I narrowed my eyes.

"Yeah, and?" he was smirking, again.

"Well, that's..." I began, but I really didn't have much to say. If I had been able to, I would have snuck into the concert rather than attending with Brandon.

"Uh huh, what I thought," he nodded, "Need help out?"

"Um, no. All I need is for you to not throw things at me."

"I told you, you threw it first."

"When I threw it, I didn't realize that there was anyone there. You knew someone was there when you threw it."

"But I didn't know that you weren't dangerous at that point."

"How do you know now that I'm not dangerous?"

He folded his arms, rolling his eyes, "You're what? Seventeen? And you definitely don't dress like anybody dangerous."

"I'm nineteen," I corrected, "and you don't judge a book by its cover."

"Oh, then I'm definitely scared," he said sarcastically, "If you're so dangerous, why don't you prove it?"

"I would love to," I replied, hopping on, and then over, the counter, "but, I need to save my energy for real threats."

"How do you know that I'm not dangerous?"

"You definitely fit the Flash Gordon role better than you fit the Ming the Merciless role."

"Do I really strike you as that corny?"

"Mhm," I nodded, heading towards the last concession stand. At first, he followed me, but after a moment, he jogged ahead of me, and started walking backwards in front of me.