XPLR | Colby Brock

~131~

1.1 mil already? Thank you!

Logan had been asking me to come to one of his gigs ever since I got to New York City. I always found a reason not to go. It became a long slue of "I don't feel goods" or "I really have to practice this(s?)". This time, he said, "Rose. Come. Please. I want you to meet my friends. You can't cling to just me forever."

It was so true it hurt.

So now, I stood in front of my mirror and looked over my outfit. Alan, who's still very much a stranger, sat at my vanity right in front of me. "Will you breathe, please? What are you so worried about?" he asked.

This was something he'd designed for me. I got ready early, with Alan, just so he could take his pictures. It was just before sunset too. "We could totally get amazing pictures," he had said when he knocked on my door.

I looked down at my skirt he had me wearing. This outfit was the definition of true "edgy" "emo". Even though neither of those words really describe me or my personality at all. But the skirt was made up out of old band t shirts. We the Kings, Pierce the Veil, My Chemical Romance. It was a wide array of black, with color here and there. But mostly just blue or red or black. I liked it that way, though. Black always looked good on me. The seam of the skirt sat right in the curve of my hour glass figure, and the halter top was covered with a simple thin jacket. I vetoed the beanie.

"That's a little much. This is my first time meeting these people, you know," I told him. He rolled his eyes and chuckled, tossing the beanie into the chair. "These are band kids, what do you expect? Don't worry too much. They'll love you," he said, "Nervous 'cuz it's your boyfriend's friends?" I shook my head. "He's not my boyfriend."

For the pictures, at least, Alan insisted on a black lip. I had black lipstick, a lipstick Elena and I used for a challenge video way back when, but I had never really worn it unironically. It looked good on me though. But I can't seem to think of another time that I would actually wear this out, or wear this lip color out.

He took pictures of me, and he took some on his phone, which he later air dropped to me. "For your instagram. Or your boyfriend, whatever you want to do," he said, smiling at me as he put his phone back in my pocket. I looked at the pictures and smiled. Wow. I'm beautiful. In the past, I never would've thought that on my own without convincing myself to. It would always take more than just a glance and a smile.

We hugged. Alan was a good hugger, and even though his personality was a bit on the abrasive, harsh side, he was sweet in his heart. I liked that. We agreed to coffee later that week to discuss more looks. And I thanked him for lending me the clothes, promising to take good care of them.

I went to the concert venue on my own. This place was a club as well, though it didn't much seem like it. It called itself a club, but it seemed more like a bar with a stage. To hold little concerts like this. For Logan's band: Tone Deaf. I never asked where he got the title from.

I was getting good at taking the subways to foreign places now, but I was nevertheless proud of myself for finding my way to the venue all by myself. Even if google had told me what to do.

I wasn't the first there. In fact, there were a lot of people standing around, waiting. I spotted t shirts for sale, and I noticed there were a lot of people wearing the same t shirts of varying variety. I slithered my way over to the stand, spent fifteen dollars on a shirt, and put it in my bag. I'll support the closest thing I have to a best friend.

When they came out, the crowd was roaring. I was standing by myself in the back corner, just observing. I was never the party type. The stench of alcohol was deplorable, I could barely breathe in some spots: no one could. It wasn't just my old trauma coming back to me.

Even from this distance, I could feel how electric the crowd was. How excited they were to see Tone Deaf. Logan was the life of the entire band, anyone can see. I didn't recognize some of the songs they played, probably their originals, but I caught on to some of the early guitar riffs of some of my favorite songs way back when. New Perspective by Panic! At the Disco, a couple of MCR and All Time Low. Even some We the Kings. All I know, is that nothing was soft.

I loved it. It was amazing to see the lights and the dancing. How much different kinds of music can spread to different kinds of people.

A new entertainment took the stage once Tone Deaf was done. When they came out, they weren't swarmed by the hundred, hundred fifty so people standing around. A few pictures, some smiles and hugs. I watched from a distance, as usual, but Logan found me. "Hey," I said, standing up to give him a familiar hug. What I thought would be a familiar hug, that is. Logan pulled me in close, by my waist, just as one of the other band members came up to us. He smiled when he pulled away, giving me a quick look up and down. "You look amazing," he said quickly, just before one of the band members piped in. "Rose? You're Rose?" he asked. He smiled, and he reached out to shake my hand, which quickly turned into an awkward high five.

He wreaked of whiskey. I'm learning the different liquors now that I'm working at the bar.

"I'm Rose," I answered, smiling shyly as I held my hands in front of me. Logan reached down and held one. "Do you want anything to drink?" he asked, turning towards the bar. "I hope you don't mind that I'm going to."

I shook my head. "No, go ahead," I said. The singer turned to me, and he put a hand on my small shoulder. "Oh come on, Rose. You don't drink?" he asked. I shook my head. "Have you ever really tried?" he asked, offering me a sip of his beer. I shook my head again.

I thought back to all those times I spent at home while Elena partied. Or the infamous party that ruined everything back in California.

Or me sitting in the corner while everyone else has fun.

Well.

"Order me something good," I told Logan. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows, as if to say, "you sure?"

I nodded.

I'm so tired of being a bystander.

So tonight, I danced. I danced in the crowd, sometimes with girls I didn't know, other times with Logan's hands on my hips, and without a care in the world. That was the alcohol doing its job. At the end of one song, though, Logan just smiled at me. And he pulled me in and kissed me. A fleeting, passionate kiss, that stayed on my lips even after we pulled away.

All the tension we felt before has ceased.