taylorhpart1

Taylor

There was a period of approximately two minutes when the first group of fans left the room and the next 15 were ushered in. For two minutes I could breathe and find someone I recognized to talk to. If I was fast, I could even find a Dr. Pepper or my water bottle and have something to drink. But usually I had to use the full two minutes to actually find my beverage of choice and I ultimately lost the chance to drink it. The fans ran in then and I had to smile and laugh my ass off like a lunatic so they would all be pleased.

Sometimes I had time even to sit with Callie and ask her how she was. She always looked disturbed; I could never figure out why she came and sat back there if she didn't want to. I told her to wait at the hotel or sleep on the bus but she refused so I let her be and constantly, out of a pure desire to understand her, asked her how she was. "Good," she said with a smile and ran her fingers through her hair. As soon as I walked away, I'd steel a glance at her every minute or so and it was obvious she wasn't in fact "good." She looked miserable and that made me miserable.

But, I was surrounded by beautiful women. I don't think one of them had sleeves on their arms or any shirt that covered any cleavage or bellybuttons. They all had rings in their bellybuttons come to think of it, some with bar bells that had green stones and pink stones and diamonds; bellybutton rings were sexy, especially when the girl stood in front of you and played with it as she talked to you and smiled. But they all played with something on their bodies like earrings or bracelets or necklaces or strands of hair; sometimes tank top straps or shirt hems or belt loops. I wondered if it was possible for a girl to stand in front of you and not move. Did they fiddle with things to make themselves more attractive? I would be attracted to them or I wouldn't be, despite what part of their body they tried to draw attention to.

Yes, I was surrounded by beautiful women. The one I was in love with sat by herself on a sofa next to the snack table. She sat with one leg against her chest and the other hanging over the cushion to the floor. She played with her toe ring, and even though she wasn't standing on front of me trying to get my attention, I was extremely drawn to her. She was wearing my shirt, the one that said "Hysteria, Bloody Hysteria." She had on my favorite pair of her jeans, the ones that had the hole on the ass that let me see her underwear. Even though she was sitting, I knew those were the ones because I walked behind her when we got off the tour bus that morning; she was wearing blue leopard print panties and they made me giggle which is so ridiculous because I'm not supposed to giggle. I mean, God, I'm a fucking guy for Christ's sake.

I wanted to burst out laughing. The girl that stood in front of me, "It's Bekka, with two K's no C's," who played with her bellybutton ring (it had hearts on it) would have started to cry if she knew that I was thinking about Callie's underwear. You can always tell when you're talking to a girl who thinks she was destined to be with you. It's written in her eyes. I can also read in Bekka's eyes that she has a webpage and she writes fanfiction. She sat on the street for 12 hours waiting for tickets to this show and she cried for the security guard and he felt bad for her so he let her backstage. She cried when I sang "A Song To Sing" because she swore that I wrote it for a girl who I will forget about as soon as I meet her. She imagined me singing it to her after we talked for hours into the night.

If Bekka knew I sang it to Callie yesterday she'd probably try to hurt Callie. But, then again, she doesn't know who Callie is. No one knows who Callie is. No one is supposed to know. Isaac knows and Zac knows and my dad knows. My mom is going to know tomorrow because I'm going to tell her. Steve, Jeremy, and Rick, our back-ups, know because they know everything, all the roadies know because they have to carry all of Callie's shit around, and management knows too. Management told me I couldn't tell anyone about Callie though because it would ruin our appeal. I wouldn't be as sexually attractive if I had a girlfriend. But, ah, I'm sexually attractive no matter what so I don't see any problem (Just kidding).

After Bekka walked away, I looked at Callie again. She was still playing with her toe ring. I wanted to know what she was thinking. I wanted to know if she was upset. I think someone said hello to me and thrust their paper toward me, but I walked away from her and sat at the opposite end of the sofa Callie sat on. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her hand resting on the cushion. Her fingers were long and slender and I longed to feel the intense softness of her skin; it was always so fabulously smooth and beautiful and all I wanted was to touch it.

"Hi," I said almost in question. I nearly whispered and I wondered if she heard me.

"Hey," she said back without looking at me. I wondered if she knew how much I loved her.

"How are you?"

"I'm good."

"Are you su--"

"OH MY GOD!!!! Um, hehehehe, I love you!!! Ohmygod, Taylor, your show was amazing. You have the best voice!! I have been a fan of yours for three years and I just wanted to know everything about you and whether or not you have girlfriend? Oh, and could you sign this for me too?"

Bekka number two interrupted me and more and more girls came over too. They formed a small semicircle around me, blocking my view of Callie. Rather, they completely separated me from Callie and I tried to understand why, in such a large room, they all had to stand so close and so tightly next to one another. I was afraid to stand up, they were so close, because I might kick one of them in the process and get sued. I smiled and thanked them all, signed my name twenty times, and asked them silly questions to make them think I was romantically interested. It was fun, yet cruel I admit, but they deserved it for forgetting there were millions of them and only one of me.

I wondered where Callie was again. I glanced to the left quickly, hoping to find her, as I complimented "Lesly with a Y" on the fairy dust that made her eyelids shimmer.