I wish I knew what I was doing. The alley behind the club smells of piss and garbage, but Alicia refuses to leave our prime spot by the back door. The band should be coming out soon. According to her this is the way they'll go and not through the front like everyone else seems to think. The tour bus with THE DAMAGED emblazed on the side tells me she might be right. I'd much rather think like the others because not only does this place literally stink, it’s creepy too. But being best friends with Alicia Wilkins for over 13 years has taught me that she often knows what she's doing. “We’re missing the last song and the encore…” I don’t mean to sound so whiny, but I’ve waited for this night forever. Alicia rolls her eyes and turns to face me. “Allie. Why?” “Oh, shut up Angela. You know why. Unbutton your shirt.” She points at my flannel shirt, but I smack her hand away. “No.” I give her outfit a raised eyebrow. “You be the tart and I'll be the boring one.” She g