Front Row

by Rebekah N Bryan

  Upon arriving, I took one of my doughnuts out and people watched. There were at least 50 fans lined up at that point. All girls. Most of the girls were dressed in jeans for the concert tonight, even some of the girls that were camped out. Some of them had planned ahead and brought camping chairs to relax on while they waited; some stood; most just sat on the sidewalk talking amongst each other. My gaze shifted to Kim and Haley to see how they were passing the time.

  My lip curled. "What are you doing?"

  "Homework," they said in unison. They sat with a textbook between them and a notebook on each of their laps. It wasn't unusual for them to be working on homework together, even on a Friday or Saturday night sometimes, but in line for a concert seemed a little extreme to me. I envisioned my business law textbook in the same place on the floor where I chucked it days earlier. Eventually, I'd have to figure out what assignments I missed for that class, but today was not that day.

  I finished off my second doughnut as Alex and Shelly returned from their restroom trip, dressed and made up in their concert attire.

  "You girls look cute," I said as I gathered up everything I'd need to change. Kim and Haley put down their homework and joined me to get ready. The bathroom we had found was inside a parking garage a few blocks away. We each claimed one of the stalls, and I scored the big handicapped one.

  I stepped out of my fleece sweatpants first and lay them on the floor so that I'd have something to stand on besides the cold, grimy bathroom tiles. From there, I was able to strip everything else off and replace the clothing with underwear, jeans, a skimpy tank top I borrowed from Alex, and a sweater, all cold from being left outside all night. I pulled out some tan chunky 2-inch-high heel boots last. Standing at nearly 6 feet tall already, having an extra 2 inches was going to piss off the fans standing behind me at the concert even more. At least front row leaning over a barricade, I wouldn't be too in the way. I'd be just that much more visible when Gabe looked into the crowd. I wished I could get in a shower before the concert, but that wasn't a possibility. I had to make do with whatever facilities were available in that bathroom. I stuffed everything back into my duffel bag without bothering to fold my clothes from last night, and I went out to claim a spot in the mirror. Neglecting my makeup application for the time being, I splashed some water on my face, brushed my teeth, and fixed my hair as best I could. Then, I hung out in the background while the other two girls finished primping.

  We walked back in silence, even talkative Kim. A true testament to how tired we all were, and it wasn't even lunchtime yet. I tossed my duffel bag onto my sleeping bag and interrupted Alex in the middle of her magazine reading. "Hey, could you do my makeup? It doesn't have to be now, but whenever."

  Her eyes were half open and dazed with fatigue, and I regretted asking. "Let's do it now before I fall asleep again."

  I brought my makeup case over to her sleeping bag and sat facing her. Alex did one eye's worth of eye shadow and liner before her gaze wandered and her expression went blank. "Focus," I joked, trying to keep it lighthearted since she was doing me a favor. In the next half hour, she finished off my makeup bit by bit while I kept spouting off jokes and sarcastic comments to try to keep her amused and awake.

  Lunch brought us all a little more energy. We took turns walking to a nearby sub shop, and I felt more alive with a brisk walk and a full stomach. Plus, I figured within the hour, the buses would be arriving. Things were always more exciting when I knew The Out of Towners lurked nearby.

  Except the buses didn't come around one o'clock like I expected. I sat frozen in one position for nearly two hours, back against the wall with my arms around my knees and my eyes darting from side to side across the street in front of us, watching for the tour bus to pull up. It was nearly three o'clock when excited shrieks erupted from near the back of the line. The guys were parked around the back. How inconvenient for us. Shelly, Alex, and Kim took the first shift and headed back there to see what was up while Haley and I held our spots in line. We busied ourselves by rolling up the sleeping bags and packing away the food, figuring adrenaline would get us through the next few hours. After we finished cleaning up, we both kept our eyes on the side of the building, waiting for our friends to come back. When they did maybe a half hour later, they came bearing a little bit of news.

  "Harmony's here," said Alex, referring to Randy's girlfriend. "She looked pretty cute today."

  "Cuter than me?" asked Haley.

  "No, of course not."

  "Did the guys come out?" I asked.

  "Yeah, I got to touch Randy's arm. And Jacob's," said Kim.

  "Gabe came out, too." Shelly knew that details was the information I wanted to hear. "He looked like he was in a bad mood, so no one really bothered him."

  I thought back to the night at the bar. "Probably questioning his self-worth again."

  Haley and I took our turn and headed over to where the bus stood idle. There were a few rows of girls assembled, but we squeezed in right next to the bus and managed to get one girl back from the front.

  "Are they all inside?" I asked a nearby fan.

  "Randy and Gabe are inside. Jacob went back on the bus."

  Jacob emerged then and shuffled the short distance from the bus to the door of the venue, stopping only to lean over to take a picture with a particularly aggressive fan. No matter how many times I'd seen them in the last few days, that first glimpse did not get any less exciting. While we waited, the other two guys darted to and from the bus, but neither of them stopped to interact with the fans other than Randy telling someone that they had to start sound check. Haley and I put our ears up to the wall by the stage door to try to identify the first song they were sound checking and then returned to the line in the front of the building. With a little under two hours to go until they opened the doors, many of the fans were standing and tightening up the line in anticipation. I knew I was going to regret it later if I didn't get my sitting in now, so I eased myself back down onto the sidewalk among my friends.

  Before doors opened, we stowed our coats in the car so as not to be burdened with them during the show. It seemed like a logical idea, but it made the last half hour of waiting in the cold more uncomfortable even though it had warmed up quite a bit from the night before. On the other side of the glass entry doors, employees milled around, teasing us. Finally, one of the employees propped open the door, and we filed in, pressing up against one another, darting around people, and breaking into a jog. I veered toward the middle of the stage, where Gabe would be. The New Yorkers, one of which was another Gabe fan, lined up to my right, Alex and Shelly on my left, and Haley and Kim retreated to the other side of the New Yorkers to be in front of Randy. The excitement of all getting our ideal spots was temporary, though. We still had another hour to wait, and the fans behind us pressed up against us. I made sure my arms were touching both Alex's and the New Yorker's arm on either side of me so as not to let anyone through. Once again, I spent most of Bjorn's set glaring at people around me who were talking the entire time. At least the fans' boredom was distracting them from trying to shove closer to the stage. As suspected, when The Out of Towners sauntered out onto the stage, the pushing resumed, and I planted my feet and hugged the guardrail in an effort to hold my ground. Gabe perched on his stool, and Alex elbowed me and pointed at my chest. I looked down and adjusted how my sweater was laying and leaned over the barricade a little more so that my décolletage would be on display. Alex nodded in approval.

  Once the show got underway, I felt more at ease about my position and enjoyed it instead of fighting to keep it. How many times in my life was I going to be front row? I had to take full advantage of it while it lasted. Gabe kept his head bent toward his guitar and focused on his performance. The few times he did look up, though, his earnest brown eyes drifted right to the pretty brunette New Yorker and me. I shared a moment of giddiness with the New Yorker. My heart soared. There are few things more exciting in life than a band member you love acknowledging your
existence.

  Near the end of the set, Randy approached the edge of the stage and bent down with his arm out so that the fans up front could get a piece of him. His face glittered with sweat, and a drop or two fell right on the adoring girls. His dark hair had formed into wet dreads on his forehead. The crowd surged toward the front and right, and even people behind me on the far left side of the stage pressed up against my back. Among the sea of fans, Haley and Kim both stretched their arms toward Randy, and Randy made contact with both of them. The guys gathered in the middle of the stage around a microphone for an a capella song to close out the show. I clutched my hands underneath my chin and watched, in awe of their natural talent. They finished their song, and the crowd erupted in screams and clapping. Gabe grabbed his extra guitar picks from his microphone stand and threw a couple into the crowd. Then, he aimed right at the New Yorker and me and directed his last two right at us. She caught hers, and I dove to the ground to retrieve mine before anyone else found it. The cement floor below me was shiny and sticky, and it took me a couple seconds of my eyes darting between all the legs around me before I spotted the pick. The semi-dry soda and beer mixture on the floor lodged under my fingernail as I snatched the pick. I cringed and wiped my hand on my jeans. By the time I popped back up and stowed the pick in my pocket, the guys were walking off stage.

  I reunited with my group and showed off my prize. "Oh my gosh, he threw them right at us!"

  "The boobs worked!" said Alex.

  We headed back to the buses and hoped to spot one of our roadie friends to tell us what the plan was for the night. The next night was Indiana, which none of us were going to, and we didn't know if the guys would be going out tonight or driving right to their next destination. We waited around for awhile in the back of the fan mob but didn't see anything hopeful. The guys came out to sign autographs, but it wasn't long before they retreated to the bus. We considered following them for a little while in case they were going to the hotel; in the end, we decided against it since it would probably be in the wrong direction. It was our last show of the tour, and we didn't even get a chance to interact with the guys. Being front row was a dream come true, but it was hard to feel satisfied after our experience in Milwaukee.

  Chapter 6: Indianapolis

  The next day in class, I couldn't concentrate at all. I kept dwelling on the fact that The Out of Towners were a short five-hour car drive away. It would be doable. I didn't have class until late the next day, and I didn't work until after that. I shook the idea out of my head. Wouldn't I rather finish the tour off right being front row? Even if we did go to Indianapolis, we would be in the back and probably not even talk to the guys. Then I would end up with a worse concert hangover than I already had. Or maybe it would be closure, showing me that Milwaukee was just a fluke, and great things like that can't happen every time. I could use some closure, I guess.

  I somehow made it through both my morning classes and raced back to my apartment, hoping to get a little bit of a nap in before my afternoon class. I booted up my computer before lying down to check my email. An IM conversation popped up. It was Alex.

  Alex: I want to go to Indiana tonight. You in?

  Me: I was just thinking about that! I mean, I COULD, but I don't know if I SHOULD.

  Alex: Oh, you should. If we leave now, we'll still make it there in time for the show.

  Me: True...

  Me: Did you ask the rest of the girls?

  Alex: Shelly has to work, and Haley and Kim are in class all day. They all said no. You're my last hope.

  Me: OK I'll go as long as we can leave right after. I have class at 11 tomorrow.

  Alex: Of course. That's about when I have to work anyway.

  Me: OK then, let's do it!

  Alex: Meet at my place?

  Me: See you in a half hour.

  I should've told her an hour. With a long car ride ahead of us, I had plenty of time to do my makeup, but I would've liked to curl my hair or something. On the other hand, we probably wouldn't see the guys after the concert anyway. I threw on a cap sleeve blush-pink fitted peasant top and a cream-colored sweater to go over it, grabbed my makeup bag and purse, and headed out the door.

  Within an hour, we were on the road; and within an unbelievable four hours, we were at the venue. Thanks to no traffic and Alex driving at least 20 miles over the speed limit the whole ride, we made record time and even showed up in time to catch the last song of Bjorn's set.

  Before he left the stage, he took to the microphone to say some words in closing. "As some of you may know, this is my last stop on the tour with The Out of Towners. I've had a great time meeting all of you, so thank you. This next band is a great group of guys who will be taking my place for the rest of the tour. Here are Face Rake."

  "Great, I was kind of hoping we missed the opening bands," I wanted to get my Out of Towners fill sooner. "Let's go over to merch. I want to say bye to Bjorn." The merch was over to the side in the back, and a handful of people were lined up to meet Bjorn. It looked like he had garnered some more fans and excitement since I first met him in Cleveland. We stood amongst the fans and waited our turn to talk to Bjorn.

  "I'm so bummed we missed your last show," I said to Bjorn when some of the other fans had dispersed.

  "You did?"

  "Yeah, we came from Wisconsin and didn't make it here until halfway through your last song. I can't believe I may never hear my favorite song live again."

  "Which one is that?"

  "'Can't Sleep Until Dawn.'" I ran my hand through the hair in front of my shoulder, feeling more bold than usual since I may never see this man again. "You wouldn't want to give us a private show, would you? Just a few songs."

  He mirrored me and fluffed his dark blond hair, making it stick up off of his forehead. Then, he rubbed his chin. "Don't you want to watch Face Rake? They're quite entertaining."

  Alex shrugged. "Nah, we're good."

  Bjorn's forehead crinkled. "Just three songs?"

  "Yes, totally. Three is great," I said.

  He replaced the cap on the Sharpie he was holding and set it down on the merch table. He tossed his head in the direction of the exit. "Follow me."

  When Bjorn had his back to us, I grabbed Alex's forearm and jumped up and down with a huge grin plastered on my face. She swatted my hand away but also looked pleased with the fortunate turn of events. Bjorn unhooked a velvet rope, which was blocking off a staircase going up, and held out his arm to invite us to go first. We stepped past him and then moved aside to let him lead. At the top of the stairs, he continued down a hallway and ducked into a room on the left. The room was spacious, but not at all how I had imagined a backstage area to look. My only real experience backstage was back in senior year of high school when a friend's boyfriend's band invited us backstage to a rock 'n' roll haven of curtained walls, pillows everywhere, and dim eclectic lamps in place of overhead lighting. This room Bjorn led us to could've passed for a deserted Sunday school room with carpeted divider walls and school-cafeteria-grade tables and chairs. But it was private and exclusive, and the sounds from Face Rake's set pumped through the floor.

  "Would you like anything to drink? I think there's Sprite in the fridge." We both accepted his offer even though I seldom drank soda, and he left the room for a second and returned with two cans of Sprite. He handed us the cans, set up two folding chairs facing a third chair, and retrieved his guitar, which was leaning against a brown-patterned couch that could've come from my last boyfriend's dorm room.

  Bjorn hummed to himself for a moment while he tuned his guitar. "Fuck it. Close enough." He then launched into the beginning of my favorite Bjorn tune. Bjorn, much like Gabe, kept his focus on his guitar while he played—only glancing up into the distance over our heads. I preferred that. Had he made eye contact the entire time, it would've turned an enchanting, exciting moment into an awkward one. Instead, I let my eyes wander where they pleased while I enjoyed his velvety voice. When the last strummed notes faded out, Alex
and I clapped our free hands against our Sprite cans.

  "That was great, thank you," I said. "You made my night already."

  "I'll play a couple more, but they're going to be quieter ones. I don't want anyone to hear downstairs." There had been a moment of silence between Face Rake's songs, but I didn't think anyone could hear Bjorn's tender vocals anywhere outside of this room. Still, he was doing us a favor—I wasn't going to be the one to complain.

  After two more songs, he leaned his guitar against his chair.

  "Thank you again. That was amazing." I gave him a hug, which he reciprocated with near rib-crushing force.

  "My pleasure. It sounds like you still have time to catch the end of Face Rake's set, too."

  ***

  "Cute boys," Alex said when we were in viewing range of the stage again. I had to agree. Now I was glad we had time to catch the end of their set. Face Rake was composed of four members—a drummer with a buzzed haircut and a five o'clock shadow, one guitarist with darker skin and thick black hair, the lead singer and guitarist with short brown hair and tattoos covering his arms, and a young-looking guy with tousled black hair who was wielding a bass guitar. They all dressed in variations of jeans and T-shirts with the exception of the guitarist, who wore slouchy khaki pants and a short-sleeved button-front shirt with the tails hanging out. "I call the lead singer. The bassist's really cute, too."

  "Fine with me, I want the other guitarist," I said.

  When their set ended, we floated back over to the merch table to get a closer look at them and introduce ourselves. This time, there were only a few fans in front of us, and they appeared to already know who these guys were. The lead singer chatted with a couple of the girls for a minute and then turned to us.

  "Hey ladies, can I help you?"

  I set my wallet on the merch table with a dramatic thud. "I'd like to get your CD."