[AustinCarlile] Live Forever

[AustinCarlile] Live Forever [ChapterEighteen]

I don’t think that this day could get any worse; I don’t think that this is fun, not my definition of fun, and it’s most definitely not my definition of a fun time for a girlfriend. I'm happy for him, his accomplishments, the life that he’s built for himself, the fan base that he’s generated by himself, I'm happy for him, that’s amazing, but that’s his, and it’s not mine, it will never be mine, I don’t want it to be mine. It’s not okay for me to sit here, on his request, to hear all these girls shamelessly flirting with him while his girlfriend, well rumored girlfriend, no one knows, I don’t want anyone to know, but still, they're shamelessly flirting with him and when they aren’t they're telling him their stories that just make his heart ache which leads him to giving them his email or his number or getting their Twitter so they can direct message him whenever they need.

Running a hand through my hair, I lean back against the chair, the warm metal sticking to my shirt, I let a soft sigh escape from my lips, crossing my right leg over my left. No matter how I word my thoughts, I can’t stop myself from hating myself, I sound like such a horrible person, let alone girlfriend, I don’t deserve him, but I don’t know what else to think. There’s really no reason for me to be here, I'm hidden in the back, I'm not his girlfriend according to his fans because he hasn’t said anything about it yet, I'm just here to watch him in his element. This isn’t my element, I'm not okay with this, I worked really hard to get where I am and to have it all pushed aside doesn’t feel right; he has nothing to do with that, this isn’t his fault, I told him that I would come, I knew what to expect, I just didn’t want it to happen.

“You're one lucky girl.” Her voice breaks me out of my thoughts; I didn’t realize that she had stopped selling shirts because no one had been buying any, not with Austin there. Knitting my eyebrows together, I tilt my head to the side, looking up at her, I don’t know what she wants me to say, I'm so done listening to people compliment him and flirt with him, I didn’t think that it would be like this, I thought that I would just stay away from it. “Getting Austin, you’re lucky.”

Forcing a smile to tug at the corners of my lips, I nod my head once, not knowing what she wants me to say, I don’t want to be here, this just never ends, I’ve been here for about forty five minutes, and the line doesn’t look like it got any shorter. “Oh, um, thank you, I think.” The two of them have been talking nonstop, always turning to exchange words when someone was leaving and someone was approaching him, that off time, it was their time, and I'm just sitting back, waiting, like a moron. Blaze said to talk to his father, I would have loved to talk to his father, it would have given me something to do, it would have given me a distraction from all the girls throwing themselves at him, but he’s busy taking pictures as well, everyone loves Daddy Carlile.

Honestly, I have no problem with people telling him their stories, I think that’s wonderful, that’s why all of us musicians are in the business, to hear what people have to say, to show people that they're not alone. It’s the girls with the white, see through shirts and the bright green bras, the girls wearing tiny shorts that leave their ass cheeks visible, it’s those girls that I have a problem with, I’ve never understood why anyone would want to be called a groupie.

And I don’t know this girl, Asia, she flirts with him, knowing that we’re together, knowing that I'm his girlfriend, and I'm sitting right here, that’s not okay, I don’t understand it. It’s so stupid, like what is she getting out of it, what are any of these girls think is going to happen, I honestly don’t know many guys who sleep with a fan they just met or they’ve seen at a few meet and greets, it doesn’t really happen, and it usually only happens when the guy is trashed. It doesn’t happen, I don’t know where these girls get these ideas, not every guy is like Danny Worsnop in the early days of Asking Alexandria, that was mean, I take that back.

“No, it’s a good thing. Not many girls catch his eye.” I don’t know if that was supposed to make me feel better, but it doesn’t, it sounds like there are so many girls who I have to put up with, have to deal with them pushing their boobs up in front of his face, so I nod my head as a response. “Are you feeling okay? Austin said that you talk more than you are now.”

Who the fuck am I supposed to be talking to right now, the chair that I'm sitting on, my nails, the small inch worm that’s still trying to make it out of the tent? I know that there’s no reason for me to be mad at her, that’s the middle path, she’s trying to be nice, but I can’t help it, she’s flirting with him, that’s not okay, I'm sitting right here; I mean, it wouldn’t be okay if I wasn’t here either, but I'm sitting right here and she knows that we’re together, I just don’t get it. “Oh, um, I'm just tired. It’s been a long day.” Shrugging my shoulders, I know that it’s a horrible lie, it’s so stupid, but I'm not about to tell this girl all about my troubles, I don’t know her, and if she wants to continue flirting with my boyfriend then I don’t get the point of befriending her.

I once had a friend who liked my boyfriend at the time, I know what it’s like to date the guy that all girls want, I did that throughout high school, I don’t know how I got him, but I did, and everything was fine until he left me for Harvard – the university and some girl whose last name was Harvard. Anyway, she would constantly make small comments about how cute she would look with him, how his smile was so nice to look at, all these little things, and she would flirt with him, it made me furious, I just don’t understand these girls; that’s why I'm in a band with guys.

Apparently, I'm not the nicest person, I get that, I know that I'm not always friendly, I know that when I'm shy it comes off cold, that I get paranoid for no reason, that my lack of confidence makes it hard to compliment me, I know all of that. But, I'm never that way with my fans, with the people who make my dream come true, I would never, I can’t act like that, I'm forever grateful for my fans, and these people here probably don’t even care. The ones that do care, that do listen to my music, that are huge fans, I love those kids, I know what to say to them, but here I'm lost and out of place.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, scaring me, I didn’t even remember that I had my phone, I probably should have texted Blaze or Tatum, one of them would have kept me entertained, would have kept me on the middle path, not worried about the sixteen year old girls who are obsessing over Austin. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I knit my eyebrows together as the red light on the top of the Blackberry flashes and the small red box rests atop the cell phone symbol. Opening the text message, I run a hand through my hair, biting down on my lower lip as my eyes read the message, the capital letters, the urgency, “CALL ME NOW. EMERGENCY.”

“Hey, can you tell Austin that I'm leaving. Something just came up with the band.” I don’t know if Asia heard me, if she does and she tells him, I’d owe her, I'm not in the mood to walk to the front of the tent and tell him myself, I just want to go back to the bus and figure out what’s going on. Without waiting for her to respond, I stand up, running a hand through my hair, suddenly hearing my name being called, they're yelling my name, and I turn around slowly, waving and smiling, only to turn back around and walk out of the tent.

A man with a yellow shirt, the security guard, some guy the venue hired, whoever the hell he is, is walking alongside me, but it doesn’t matter to me, all I know is that he’s keeping people away as I navigate through the openness of Warped and to the bus area. Dialing the numbers to my mom’s cell phone, I bite down on my lower lip, suddenly feeling hot, my body temperature is rising, I don’t know what’s going on, what she means, but there’s no reason to write out a message in all capital letters unless it’s a bad thing. There’s no excitement in that message, there’s no sign of accomplishment, nothing, it’s bad, and I don’t know what the hell is going on.

And to think that I thought this day couldn’t get any fucking worse.