It Doesn't Matter, Charlie

Chapter 8 - All the Glory

People told me I was pretty all the time. I thanked them, rarely denying it, because I figure that if I didn’t think I was pretty then I wouldn’t have that much else going for me. My thick auburn hair went straight down to just above my shoulders, and my side bangs covered half my face. I constantly pushed them back, but I liked them too much to get rid of them. I checked my eyeliner to make sure it wasn’t smudged and smiled at my eyes. I loved my eyes. They were a bright green with gold in the center. It was my favorite thing about myself. It was the only thing I wouldn’t change if I had the chance. Finally, I stepped back from the mirror, pleased. I turned and left the bathroom, back into the crowded backstage area. Charlie was onstage right now, he still had another ten minutes left. I decided to go watch.

I found my way through curtains and hallways, until I was standing behind a larger curtain. I could peak out from behind it and stay hidden, but I knew if I took another step outward then I would be seen by several thousand people. Charlie was on stage, talking about people coming up to him on the streets. I smiled at the thought of girls screaming in his face.

“Aimee! Hey, Aimee!” I looked over to where Alex was standing in darkness, next to a sound board. I grinned and waved. “Come here!”

Charlie must have heard him because he turned around, saw me, and smiled widely. “Come here,” he repeated what Alex said. My eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, not sure where to go. To be honest, I was perfectly content staying behind this curtain right here. Apparently, Alex changed his mind, because he pointed at Charlie and nodded. I could hear the audience growing restless. I looked to Charlie who motioned me over. I shook my head, but gave up and walked towards him anyway. I could feel all the eyes on me. All of them.

“Psst, Aimee!” I spun around and Alex tossed a microphone at me. I reached out to catch it but missed, and the entire auditorium was pierced with a deafening screech. I winced and slowly bent down to pick it up, then turned back to the audience, blushing.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, my voice strangely high-pitched.

“Guys! This is my friend whom you’ve never met before, Aimee!” Charlie grinned. The audience was quiet. Charlie looked at me and I laughed.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I explained, and the audience laughed. I felt the room lighten up. “So what were we talking about?” I ask as if it was towards no one in particular, but Charlie was really the only one who could answer that.

“Fangirls. Would you like to demonstrate?” he smiled pleadingly at me. I rolled my eyes but placed the microphone softly down, so it wouldn’t scream again. Charlie held his to his chest so it would pick up my voice. I walked over to the corner of the stage then, ignoring the fact that thousands of people were watching me, I skipped obnoxiously towards Charlie then stopped mid-skip, threw my hands down, jaw dropped and eyes wide. I counted to three in my head then screamed at the top of my lungs, “OH MY, GOD YOU’RE CHARLIEISSOCOOLLIKE AND YOU’RE LIKE A FOOT AWAY FROM ME AND YOU’RE REAL AND OMG THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE EVER AND MARRY ME CHARLIE!” Then, for extra effect, I dropped down on my knees and hugged his feet together.

The room filled with laughter, really, really, hard laughter. I smiled, proud of myself. “Wow,” Charlie laughed, staring at me. I looked up at him and winked. Then I released my grasp and he reached down to pull me up. “That was accurate,” he said sarcastically. I giggled and waved to the audience before skipping backstage. Before I made it behind the curtain, I felt a hand grab my arm and was forced around to be face-to-face with a grinning Alex.

“Follow me,” he smiled, but it wasn’t like I had any other choice because he pulled me towards the sound board before I had the chance to protest. We watched the rest of Charlie’s performance in silence, until Charlie announced he was going to do one more question. “Oh, god,” I heard Alex mutter under his breath.

I turned to him and frowned, confused. “What?” I asked.

Alex chuckled at my confusion. “In 2010, he told the audience he was going to take his pants off…” He paused to laugh at my surprised expression. “He had another pair on underneath,” he laughed, continuing.

“Oh,” I breathed. Alex was still grinning madly. “What?” I asked again.

“In 2011, he took them off all the way,” he chuckled at the memory, but I stared at him with even wider eyes than before. “Oh! He had underwear on,” he laughed. I let out a sigh of relief and then slapped him on the shoulder. “Ow! What was that for?” he whined.

“I thought you meant everything!” I snapped, but I couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. Neither could he. “But wait…what’s he going to do this year of he keeps the tradition going?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Alex said. We both turned back to the stage, eager to see what he did.

“Since one man isn’t enough,” Charlie was saying, “I think we should bring out a few more…” he turned and waved his hand towards the back stage area. I gasped, along with Alex, and then he grinned and ran out on stage.

I watched Alex grab Charlie’s mike an say, “You did not warn me about this!” Charlie shrugged. A few more apparent YouTubers came out, and I recognized one of them as Hank, and another as Michael Aranda (whom I had met earlier). I gasped again when they all began unbuckling their belts. I covered my face but peeked through my fingers anyway. A second later, their pants were off. And then they were waving and heading offstage. I ran to the back room to greet them. Everyone back there was dying from laughter, and I must say I was biting my lip hard not to laugh more than I already was. Michael, Hank, and the other guys came back first, followed by Charlie who stopped in the doorway to pull his jeans back on.

“Where’s Alex?” I asked him as he pulled his jeans on as fast as possible. He pointed back stage, grunting, and I nodded. “That was quite a show you put on there,” I giggled. He finished latching his belt and looked up at me, blushing.

“Thanks?” he smiled a bit.

“You’re quite welcome. And I’m quite hungry, wanna go get some food?” I rolled back and forth from my toes to my heels waiting for an answer.

He smiled a little more. “Sure, okay,” he said. I put out my hand for him to take, and he awkwardly grabbed it. Then I pulled him through the crowded room, hopping over several people, and into another hallway. “You know,” he said, taking a large step to be by my side instead of behind me, “I have a lot of friends I haven’t seen in forever back there, and I’m choosing to go get food with you instead.”

I suddenly felt horrible. “I’m sorry, do you want to go back? I can get food myself, bring you some even…” I stopped talking when I noticed he was laughing and shaking his head.

“I want to come,” he said.

“Why?” I asked, almost stupidly.

“Because,” he sighed, “I just…want to.”