The New National Anthem (Vic Fuentes fanfic)

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(a/n: Pic of Blake and Jesse added. Personally, I see Blake as the guy on the right and Jesse as the guy on the left. You can do it however you want)

KATRINA'S POV

"Um, hey. Look, Hayley called me and I realized I haven't seen you in a while and I've been staying with some cousins out of state and they wanna go to Warped in a couple days and maybe we could meet up there since you're like, with Pierce the Veil?"

I couldn't speak for a couple seconds. What the fuck.

"Uh..yeah. Yeah, we can do that"

"Oh, great! Um, how have you been lately? I, uh, heard that your mom got custody of you for a while" He sounded genuinely curious, and sure, my mom got custody of me "for a while"

"I'm...I'm fine I guess. Just...doing fine. How's...where ever you are?"

"It's pretty good. my aunt and uncle are kinda buzz kills but my cousins are cool" It was weird to imagine having all that family. And a disapproving uncle? All I had was Mike, or when he was hammered, Mikey Whiskey Hands.

"Cool" I lamely replied

There was yelling in the background, and Blake yelling back.

"Hey, sorry. I gotta go, see you at Warped?"

"Yeah, bye"

He hung up, and I followed right after. Sighing, I thought about what I'd just agreed to. Fuck, it's gonna be awkward, and I'm definitely gonna have to wear long sleeves. None of my friends knew of my little stint with death and the long, ugly scar it left; and I wanted to keep it that way. I mentally went through my wardrobe that I had on the bus. I needed something thin enough to wear without having a heat stroke, and it had to make me look good, but not like I was trying. I don't care if he has a girlfriend, I'll be stressing about this.

This was the part where my teenage girl really kicked in. I started running through different clothes I could wear, along with hairstyles that weren't too complicated. Oh my god, what if I cut my hair? Never mind, bad idea. It would be awkward if he noticed and asked. But it would also be awkward it I'd stayed exactly the same since he last seen me, like, in spring. Fuck. I played with the ends of my hair. Makeup or no makeup? I liked how I looked with a bit of smudged eyeliner, but if it got smeared all over, I'd look like a train wreck. Would we just talk, or would he want to mosh? In that case, I wouldn't be able to wear a cute flowy top or toms, and I'd probably have to tie my hair up too.

Feeling like my head was about to explode, but kinda in a good way, I pulled out the cigarettes and lighter I knew I'd be needing. Opening the flat metal case which was perfect for holding my little cancer sticks, I plucked one out and placed it between my lips, lighting it up. Relief immediately followed, and I almost laughed at the complete contrast of emotions I'd had when smoking my previous cig barely an hour ago. It was funny, really, how much I pathetically relied on substances when I had too many feeling coursing through me. Jesus Christ.

But with relaxation followed perfect ideas. Cara would be taking me shopping for shoes anyways, I might as well just pick up some new clothes while I was at it. At first I felt awkward when dad bought me stuff, but I just gave up trying to fight it, as he felt bad how missing out on the first almost 16 years of my life. I took the cigarette from my lips and blew out a couple smoke rings, ignoring the stares that followed, since I actually looked like I was twelve, and a bunch of people just recognized me as "Vic's kid". It was a good thing I liked going against the expectations of people.

I wandered out of the tour bus area, smoking my cigarette and just observing life at Warped. You really did see a whole new side of people here, from people wearing full black, with jeans and fingerless gloves, to those who didn't fit the stereotypes for this style of music at all, like me, walking around in running clothes for the hell of it. Did I mention the hair too? Yeah, there's every single color and cut imaginable, leaving me to also feel horribly basic with my plain brown wavy hair.

There were a couple trees on the edge of the crown for some band I couldn't recognize, but I still sought refuge in the shade, and sucked the last bit of life out of my cigarette. I sat there for a while, totally zoning out and watching the audience mosh annd crowdsurf. After what seemed like a billion years, a two guys and a girl, all repping a skaterish look with vans and backwards snapbacks, walked by my spot under the tree.

"Mind if we smoke here" the girl asked

"Sure, go nuts" I assumed they meant cigarettes, but I really didn't care either way

They all sat down near to me, one of the guys pulling a bubbler made from a orange pill bottle out of a drawstring bag a filling it with a water bottle. The other guy pulled a tiny little jar containing what I assumed was weed and started breaking it up with his fingers. The two boys worked together to fill the bowl, making sure it was packed and properly prepared.

The little homemade bubbler got passed around in a cicle among them, until it got held out to me. I accepted it with a thank you, pulling my own lighter out of my bra and holding the flame above the bowl for a second so the weed could light. I sucked in until the weed went out, then lifted my thumb off the hole in the side so the smoke could clear from the little pill bottle. Passing the bubbler, I held in the smoke for as long as I could, then let in out in litte rings like I'd just done with my cigarette.

The makeshift bubbler was handed through the group and myself several more times, with a break to fill the bowl back up. Without even getting their names, the girl and two boys parted ways with me, talking about how much time they'd have to get to a set. I, with a pretty decent high and loose grip on myself, walked around and giggled to myself about how weird everything felt. It'd been a while since I'd gotten high, but the feeling was just as good as I'd remembered.

After trying to walk normally for a bit, I gave up and sat down, not even registering my location. Looking up, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face...who did I know with ginger hair? Alan Ashby of course.

"Hello!" I sang up to the skyscraper standing above me

"Oh, hey...you're not sober, are you?"

"Eh, not really"

"Which means?"

"Not at all. I'm high as shit"

Alan smirked. I knew he smoked weed himself, so I wasn't surprised when he asked if I still had some to share. And yes, I did say that I forgot, looked through my pockets, and finally remembered that the kush was shared with me in the first place. This resulted in both of us laughing.

"You seem pretty cool" Alan remarked after the giggling died down, lighting up a cig

"Thanks? I mean, coming from a friend of my dads..."

"Yeah, does he know you smoke?"

"Mhmm, he doesn't care and knows there's no point in trying to stop me"

"Oh"

"Yeah"

A new voice entered the conversation.

"Katrina!"

Well if it isn't the second time Cara's found me high.

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A/N:

Yeah this might be a little short, but I really wanted to get this up before November 3 (honest to god, it's 11:55 pm, also it's my 15th if any of you wanted to know) because it's my birthday, and exactly a year ago, I started the sequel. Yeah, I might not be putting up as many chapters as I was with the first book, but I feel like they're better quality, and I'm always learning more. So, thank you for helping me grow as a writer, and all your support is absolutely amazing

Much love,
Rachel