“Molly!” a voice says, jolting her out of her thoughts.
“Hmm?” she muses, turning to look at Jeremy, the guitarist in her band.
“You’ll never guess what I just found out,” he replies, tapping a few keys on his laptop before giving her his full attention.
“What’s that?”
“Guess who we’re touring with?” A thousand and one bands cycle through her head, but she could never guess the band he actually says, “All Time Low.”
“Holy shit, really?!” She stands up, elation apparent in her giddy jumping up and down. Her fellow band members simply laugh at her, filling her in on the details.
***
They say that while you’re hoping for something, it feels like it’s never going to happen; but when you’re anticipating something, it comes faster than you’re ready for and, in this case, the upcoming tour was no different than good old anticipation.
“Hey, are you Molly?” an all too familiar voice says. She looks up to see none other than the Alexander Gaskarth in front of her, Jack Barakat oh so attractively attached to his hip.
“Jack, I can’t hit on the hot girl from the other band with you hanging all over me,” he whispers to his skunk-haired best friend just a little too loudly.
A slight giggle leaves the Canadian’s lips as she pretends to not hear the quiet banter, “Yeah, that’s me.”
“This is the part where I say something awkward about finger banging, tour life, sex, boobs, or all four.”
The small giggle morphs into uncontrollable laughter and a wide smile grows on the faces of the two best friends. They are well-versed in how nerve wracking it can be to be on tour with a band bigger than you are, and are more than pleased that they can ease her nerves even slightly for a brief thirty seconds.
“Now that we’re done verbally assaulting you, we’ll see you later. And good luck today,” Jack pipes before skipping off with Alex.
Little did they know, their luck would be both a blessing and a curse. Shortly after the day’s show, two band members got into a fight bigger than the entire Civil War, causing the breakup of the band. Alex finds Molly slumped over her guitar, shortly after his set and sits down next to her, curling an arm around her waist. She rests into his side, her mascara and eyeliner, creating a mess on his shirt.
“What happened?”
“Band broke up,” she manages to sob.
“Hey,” Alex whispers soothingly, “Listen, I know that sometimes shit just happens, and it sucks, a lot because there’s nothing you can really do about it. When we were first starting out, it was just Jack and me. It takes time to build up the right band, but I guarantee that you’ll know when you have the right people because although you’ll oftentimes want to put a bullet in them, you’ll also take one for them, too. If you feel like you already have that balance with your current band, then fight for them. If not, keep trying. Don’t give up on your dream; it is too precious and too valuable for you not to pursue it. Please, don’t, for me. A good song once said ‘sometimes you gotta fall before you fly.’ This was your fall, now all that’s left is to fly.”
YOU ARE READING
One Shots. ~ Requests Closed
Teen FictionThe first page is just the form for requests, then the following is the list of requests and the order they'll be done in. Then, the rest is self-explanatory.
