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I like how he wears flannel

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 gives a disgusted snort and pulls at her top to show off more of her red lace bra.

“At least I saved myself for my one true love.” Her comment hits the spot, but I don't let her see.

“Allie, you don't know that he's right for you. You've built up this fantasy and I'm worr…” The door swings open and two enormous guys in black suits step out into the alley, each with the curly plastic cord of an earpiece dangling behind one ear.

“Get lost girls.” The one closest to us nods in the direction of the front of the club while the other is busy holding the door. Alicia ignores him. She seems to totally ignore the fact that the bodyguards are big and scary and could easily snap us in half, because now we hear laughter echoing from the back door and she's starting to shake in anticipation. The band has arrived in the back alley!

“Aw man, I wish we could have played a few more songs. They were killing it tonight!” Mason Clark, The Damaged’s drummer is the first one to step out into the grimy light. His black mohawk is kind of lopsided after the 3h set. Mason seems like that stereotype best friend’s goofy younger brother, cute instead of hot and always with a ready smile. 
And I know I just told Allie to not build these false fantasies about others, but he just seems so adorably nice. Still laughing and only a step behind, Danny Fry, the bass player thumps Mason on the back.

“Dude. It was awesome!” I've always admired the way Danny wears flannel shirts. Like, he’s always wearing them. I haven’t found a picture of him anywhere without a flannel shirt on. Candid paparazzi photos, music awards, the guys on the beach, always with the flannel. 
My friends have been whispering about an intervention, because I love to wear them all the time too. Tonight, I paired my blue and pink flannel with a black sleeveless skater dress and pink high tops. Allie thinks I look stupid with my buttoned-up shirt over a dress but I like it. If she hates it, she can just not look at me.

And last, but by no means least, Zac Hill walks out. Alicia is near hysterics, she's been in love with his brown curly hair and cocky smile since she discovered The Damaged. I don't care much for his on-stage persona, too much douche and too little charm. Nor do I care for his playboy-ish ways off the stage. Alicia though eats that shit up. I wish punching someone would make them see sense.

It's Danny who spots us first. He quickly scans the dim alley for more fans, it's only Alicia and me. His smile is slow, but friendly. He nudges Mason and turns towards us.
“Hey girls.” Mason’s head swivels around, his welcoming smile a fraction too late. But I get it. They've met super crazy fans before, I've read about it online. The girls who attack them, scream at them and force themselves upon them. Zac lights a cigarette, barely giving us a glance before heading towards the tour bus. Alicia’s eyes follow him, her smile slipping. I want to punch Zac Hill in the face for trashing my best friend’s hopes.

Alicia has had this fantasy about her meeting Zac for the first time, they’d share a look and he’d just know that they were meant to be. I keep telling her she’s read too many romance novels. Does she listen? No. Do I want her to be hurt from falling face first into reality? No. 
Danny and Mason both see what Zac’s brush off does to her and it kills me that there are witnesses to her heartbreak. Mason clears his throat and Alicia’s tear filled eyes leave Zac and I see her trying to appreciate the two thirds of her favourite band standing in front of her.

“Did you like the show?” Mason’s eyes flicker between us and I know I need to step up and be the talkative one tonight.

“It was brilliant.” Gee, can I sound more like a twelve-year-old? “I loved the new version of Push, not that the old one was bad or anything.” It’s okay to jump in and save me anytime Allie.

“Yeah?” Mason seems genuinely happy that I like their music, which is a bit weird because why else would we be here? “What did you think of the encore?” My face instantly goes tomato red and I can’t look at him.

“Uhm. Yeah.” I look at Allie, her eyes are on the bus. Zac must have got in. “We left just before that. Uhm. Because. Well. Yeah.” Shrugging my shoulders I give them a sheepish smile. I can’t tell them how Allie showed past everyone to get here for her big meeting with Zac. Mason doesn’t seem offended though.

“Too bad. We killed it with Dreams and Nightmares. Killed. It.” When he raises his eyebrows dramatically I can’t keep a giggle-snort back. My utter shame wakes Allie from her stupor and she winds her arm through mine.

“You guys are like the best band in the world.” She gives Danny and Mason her most dazzling smile. I think I’m the only one who sees how it trembles. The guys smile back, probably relieved she didn’t break down or something. “I mean, I can’t believe we met you after the show. This is like the best night ever!” Her light laughter has them grinning wider. “Could we get selfies with you guys?”

“Yeah, sure! Totally!” We pull our phones from our bags and Danny and Mason throw their arms around our shoulders. My smile hurts my cheeks, but I don’t care, this is brilliant!

Allie seems almost like herself after Danny and Mason hugged us goodbye and jumped into the bus. I don’t say anything about Zac, she’ll talk about it when she’s ready. Instead I quietly sit in the passenger’s seat and scroll through the pictures I took. The concert pictures are a mixed lot, some great and some absolutely useless. The ones from the alley are of mixed quality too, they begin with us being cute and all, but at the end we’re all goofing around.

My favourites are the last couple of pictures we took. In the first one both guys have Allie sandwiched between them and she’s grinning like an idiot, the ones towards the end show Allie laughing with Mason’s arm over her shoulder and Danny’s pretending to be Dracula and attacking my neck. They’re kind of blurry because I was laughing too, but then I get to the last one and my stomach tightens at the memory.

Danny lightly nipped the skin at my neck with his teeth, sending goose bumps down my body. When he raised his head our eyes locked. No smiles, just the two of us sharing a moment. And somehow, I had the presence of mind to snap a picture. I surprise myself sometimes.

Allie and Mason are hardly in this last picture, so she’ll not want to see it. I make an album called The Damaged and move all the great pics from tonight’s concert and back alley meet and greet into it before sharing it with Alicia.

In her room, we listen to our favourite Damaged songs as we’re making up the mattress on the floor for me to sleep on. Allie throws herself onto her bed, holding her phone to her heart.
“Zac looked so good upon that stage. So sexy.” She sighs and touches the screen of her phone, scrolling through our shared album. “He must have been so tired, that’s why he wouldn’t talk to us.” I bite my tongue. Zac Hill is the biggest jerkface to walk this earth. Maybe I’ll tell her that tomorrow, when she’s down from her concert high. Yeah.


Later, as I’m listening to her slow breathing, I quietly turn onto my stomach and get my phone out. I find the picture of Danny and me and I look at it until my eyes grow heavy. I really like the way he bites my neck. No. I mean, I really like the way he wears flannel shirts. 


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