The Rock Show

This year I went to the blink-182 concert alone. As I stood in line to get into the Cosmopolitan, I could feel my mind wander. Last year I came with the love of my life. Our love was that old timey tale of boy loves girl until someone better comes along. I came to the blink concert alone for 2 reasons; one, I desperately needed to create my own memories. Memories that didn’t nip at my heels when I went on my Hot Girl walks specifically designated for my mental health. Two, I was hoping I would feel those tingling vibrations your body gets when a stranger has his eyes locked on you. It would be Him and he’d confess He made a huge mistake.  “Please, take me back” he’d say, but I knew deep down that He wouldn’t be there. I hate how He lived in my brain rent free. Things were going to be different; I was going to make new friends at this concert. I gave the pocket of my flannel shirt a reassuring pat, my medicinal courage is still there.

            The Cosmopolitan Hotel seemed to hold an annual blink concert in Vegas, poolside. If this one didn’t go well hopefully there would be another show next year. Part of me was worried blink fans wouldn’t be invited back after the first time. As the tired crowd slowly left the venue like a bunch of cattle off to the slaughter of reentering the real world, there were crushed beer cups, foam glow sticks that were handed out at in line, lying dead without battery power, and pink and white confetti mixed with other random trash strewn about. Wait, were they selling Lays potato chips here! And twinkies. Anyway, last year He held my hand as we ran into the venue to get the best spot, front and center where you could feel the splatter of sweat from Mark Hoppus. Sad, but it was probably the most romantic moment of my life. I didn’t think I’d enjoy a man taking charge, but there was a certain attraction that arose when He said, “Take my hand. I’ll get us the best spot. Just don’t let go.” My head gave a quick shake as if to rattle the thought from my mind. This time all 4’9 of me was going to hold my own as soon as they open those doors to let us in. I kept my eye on the prize and pushed my way through the crowd.

            “Shit!” I immediately lost my footing. What a newb, but people didn’t stop rushing by. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die but the only thing I saw was the stampede scene in The Lion King played in my head on loop. I’m sure I looked like Simba too, ears down, eyes and mouth wide open. As a swarm of colorful dyed hair, band shirts, and skater shirts engulfed the rooftop venue, I laid down to die, “Welp, Darwinism. I guess this is how I go.” Suddenly I felt a hand scoop up under my shoulder yanking me up. 

            “You ok?” potential He #2 exclaimed with a look of genuine concern on his face. 

            “Yeah, I’m ok.”

            “Come on. We can still make it to Matt Skiba’s side at least.”

            I nodded, my ego more bruised than any other part of my body. “Thanks.” I wanted to use my cringey baby voice, but a harsh grungy voice occurred as I lurched myself up from the floor. 

            It was odd really. He #2 guided me just like He #1. I didn’t know if I should run with him or away from him. We ended up at front of stage left, Matt Skiba. “I actually love Matt Skiba. Alkaline Trio is my second favorite band after blink-182.” 

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Some people just really miss Tom.”

            “Well, I’m not one of them. Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me.”

            “Did you come to the one they had last year. Tom was back with the band.”

            “Yeah I came to the last one. I still love Tom. I’m just upset with him. I’m team Hoppus.”

            “Ha-ha, I wasn’t aware there were teams.” He #2 said with a smile that could convince the shallowest girl to give him a chance.  He was no more than 5’2 but very spicy. 

            “Every historical fandom has teams. Twilight, Harry Potter, Jolie or Aniston.”

            “I guess you’re right. Hey, I don’t know how, but I was planning on sneaking past the barricade. You want to join me in my mission?” Technically you couldn’t feel the sweat from Mark Hoppus at the Cosmo because there wasn’t much room for a proper VIP section. The crowd got cheated out of Mark Hoppus sweat due to a chain of metal barricades ten feet away from the stage and that was the VIP section. Last year I got to take a photo with Matt and Kim. Different Matt, different band, with only small thin metal gate between us. blink was so close yet so far. 

            “Hell, yeah I’m down.” 

            “I knew I saved you for a reason.”

            “Hey, I’m an independent woman, okay. I chose to give up. It’s called being an adult.” He #2 held his hands up in surrender with that spicy smile painted across his face. “So, what’s the plan?”

            “I have a secret weapon. See that chick security guard over there?”

            “Yeah.”

            “She’s, my girlfriend.” He #2 said with a wink. My heart only skipped a beat out of pure rage. What was He #2 doing still talking to me? Shouldn’t he be bothering his girlfriend while she worked. What a tease, but two can play that game.

            “She’s pretty. She’s not the jealous type, is she? Because I’m pretty sure she can kick my ass.” I gave a fake nervous laugh. 

            “No, she said to find a friend to sneak in with so no one gets suspicious about how easy it was to sneak into the VIP section. They’ll just assume you’re my girlfriend.” 

            Ah, yes, the other old timey tale of boy uses girl for what he wants then tosses her aside when he’s done with her “Cool. Now I’m glad you saved me too.” I waved away the vapors and batted my eyelashes. He #2 gave that spicy smile he wore so well, again. “Wait, I think I spoke too soon. I brought a little treat for us.” I gave He #2 a very burlesque shimmy and flashed the inside of my front flannel pocket. 

            “Is that what I think it is?” He Number 2’s eyes sparkled like he just hit the jackpot. 

            “Oh, yeah. I came to have fun. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?” 

            “What are you, like, 80?” 

            “Do you want one or not?” 

            “Fuck yeah I want one. I’m down to clown.”

            “Now who’s the 80-year-old?” I placed a small white pill in He #2’s hand and we gave a fist bump cheers before tossing our hands and heads back as if taking a shot of alcohol, but at the last second I pretended to take my white pill. Guitar vibrations rung through the air. The opening act was about to start, Twin Atlantic.

            “Come on. My girlfriend just gave me the signal.” He #2 grabbed my hand again and I had to fight the urge to pull away. 

            As the band started to play and the crowd started to cheer, me and He #2 ran like two stealthy ninjas or some shit like that, and made it passed the barricades with the help of He #2’s girlfriend. I made sure to cover most of my face with my early 2000’s side part and didn’t dare look at the girlfriend. We made it. We gave each other victorious smirks and copied the sleepy sways of the VIP section. These people claim to enjoy music. Where was the energy, the jumping, the hand waving, the singing at the top of your lungs? People with money are the worst, but we didn’t want to stand out, so we swayed and head bobbed like a couple dolts. We decided to grab a couple of overpriced beers and let the medicinal courage take over. 

When Twin Atlantic was done with their set, He #2 had beads of sweat dripping down his face and looked a bit disoriented, “You ok?” I asked He #2, but I knew it was the GHB taking affect. Don’t take drugs from strangers kids. He #2 really thought he was just going to sweep me off my feet and then leave me. I was going to have to lead him out of the venue before He got too heavy. The crowd started to roar with excitement. blink was about to start and I was going to miss them. 

“I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Here let’s take you to get some water.” As we hobbled out of the venue, I couldn’t help but pout like child. I guess I’ll see blink next year. I guided He #2 with very little effort to my car but got a lot of, “Damn! That guy is wasted.” Remarks.

“Where are we going?” He #2 asked dipping in and out of consciousness.

“We’re going for a little swim.” I drove to Lake Mead and decided to listen to my blink-182 playlist for the next 30 miles. By the time we got to the lake He #2 was passed out. I dragged his body which now felt like he weighed a ton, and I threw him into the dark body of water. Too many people saw me, and Vegas probably has cameras everywhere. I may not get away with it this time, but I really don’t care. I wiped the sweat from my brow and dusted the dirt off my jeans while I headed back to my car to grab a can of spray paint, so I could leave my crude signature on a large nearby rock. A smiley face.

Note from writer: Please be gentle. This is my first piece of fiction and I found it very difficult to end this story. Thank you.