Alex squinted at Jack after they left. He had returned to lying on his back, one scrawny arm covering his eyes from the glare. Alex waited. Eventually Jack turned to look at him, one eye opening slowly. He stared at him for a while, Alex returning his gaze before giving up and poking the guitarist in the ribs.
“Okay, now will you tell me?” He whined, pouting slightly. Jack smiled slowly before sitting up and turning to face him. He looked at the tuft of grass which Alex had violently attacked earlier, then back at the singer.
“You,” Jack paused, and stood up, “have a crush on our dear little photographer.”
Alex raised an eyebrow at him and brushed him off.
“Yeah, right.” He laughed with conviction, “And I’m also a walrus.” He stood up, radiating disbelief for the fact that this was all Jack had wanted to tell him. Like he had a crush on Annabelle. He knew when he liked somebody. Annabelle was nice but he didn’t like her, not like that. Jack coughed and looked at something in the river, a piece of plastic, or a foreign bird. Alex joined him in watching until it floated from view. Jack couldn’t always tell whether Alex liked somebody or not. However, Alex realised suddenly, Jack had just planted a seed. From past experience Alex knew that this seed would grow, and grow, and engulf him until he couldn’t stand it, couldn’t ignore it. Perhaps that was Jack’s goal. Alex stared at the guitarist. Jack could be surprisingly clever, concealed under his idiotic nature. Alex coughed to catch his attention.
“We should get going.”

Annabelle had just arrived back with Emery. The remainder of the walk had been mostly silent, and now, inside the venue, there were many people Annabelle could talk to. She felt comfortable once again. Rian was spinning a drumstick in All Time Low’s change room, listening to his iPod and eating a burger with his other hand. Zack and Carlos were intensely discussing something on the other side of the room, their heads close together. Annabelle plopped down next to Rian, Emery had already disappeared, not that she minded. Rian extracted his earphones, smiling as he put his drumsticks on his knees. 
“How was food?” Rian asked.
“Lovely, we ate by the river.” Annabelle replied. “What did you do?”
“Zack, Carlos and I were playing football.”
Annabelle nodded, “Fun?”
Rian laughed, “Yeah, it was.” He looked around. “Hey, where are Jack and Alex?”
“They had to talk about something private.” Annabelle wiggled her eyebrows.

“By the way, I don’t like her.” Alex told Jack while they were walking. “Not like you think, anyway. Just thought I’d clear that up.”
“Okay.” Jack looked at him, his expression unclear. Alex sighed.
“Dude, come on.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “What?” He grinned. Alex didn’t know whether he was teasing or being serious.
“Ugh, nothing.”
Alex felt grumpy now, and he didn’t bother hiding the furrow in his eyebrows. Jack punched him playfully, then pulled him into a sideways hug.
“Is wittle Ahwex all pissy?” He cooed. Alex shoved him off, but couldn’t help cracking a smile. Jack swerved around a pole and started serenading Alex with a very out of tune rendition of what Alex thought was an old Ella song.
“Shut up, you dildo.”
Jack pouted and licked his lips. “Five years is not that far apart.” He glanced at his friend. “Just for the record.”
“Jesus-fucking-Christ! Jack, I-” Alex started, flinging his hands wildly through his hair. Jack cut him off.
“Someone’s getting crazy defensive about all this.” Jack smirked. “Don’t worry, I was just joking.”
Alex dropped his hands, realizing how stupid he was being. It was true. Either way he had just proved Jack’s point...In Jack’s eyes at least. What was he doing becoming so defensive about it? He sighed, looking up to see the car-park of the venue in clear view at the end of the street.

“Oh.”
Jack snickered. “Just for the record.”
Alex raised a fist, but the ungainly guitarist had already sprinted off toward the gates, leaving Alex kicking a stone into the gutter in frustration. He sniffed. He watched Jack slow down and disappear through the backstage door.

This Annabelle thing was starting to become a pain. The photographer was pretty, sure, cute, okay, nice; she was also 16. Alex would be ridiculed into the next century for going out with a 16 year old. He heard the taunts in his head, ‘Pedophile Alex’, ‘Can’t get over Lisa, Pedophile Alex?’. He groaned. Fucking Lisa needed to get out of his head. He broke up with her, the dumb bitch. Something inside him stirred. Five years apart wasn’t actually that bad, it was just now, with her in high-school, it seemed a gap. Most adult couples he knew were ages apart. He sighed again, reaching the gates. He knew that the turmoil inside him would not go away.

***

His stomach pulled when he glanced at the wings and saw her grinning face. He screamed at the crowd.
“Hey, ya’ll, wanna meet someone great?” He beckoned her onto stage, but she shook her head, her smile waning.
“No,” She mouthed, “Please, no.”
The crowd was screaming in response, though. He faltered, but pressed on. This was a fear he was going to make her face.
“Well, she’s a little shy, so you’re gonna have to be extra nice, and scream a little fucking louder.”
The crowd responded, and Alex jogged off stage to fetch the girl. She pulled away from his grasp. 
“Please, Alex, I really, reall-”
“Face your fears. Cleanses the soul.”
He grabbed her hand, squeezed it reassuringly and dragged her on. The crowd screamed politely. 
“This girl,” Jack pointed at Annabelle, who was being led to Alex’s mic. He could see her legs shaking as she walked, but he supposed the crowd wouldn’t notice. She was smiling brightly, putting on that fake face she practiced so well. “this girl, takes fucking good photographs.”
“Yeah!” Alex replied, still holding her hand, “This girl has made me look like a golden God!”
In the lull someone screamed ‘I love you, Alex!’
“She would like, if she is allowed, to take a fucking great photo of you.” Jack smiled encouragingly, and Alex invited her to his place, dropping her hand. Annabelle reached to touch the mic, leaning up to speak into it.
“Hi.” A squeak that surprised even her echoed throughout the room. She cleared her throat, reassured herself, and with her heart racing, yelled, “put your fucking hands up for All Time Low!”
The crowd went wild and Annabelle snapped a shot.

With adrenaline pumping through her veins, a stomach full off butterflies, and a pair of hopeless legs, she managed a jog off stage, waving the, what she thought was a, slightly unimpressed crowd goodbye. As soon as she was hidden she fell over, staying on the ground for a while. Why would Alex have done that to her? What would that have proved? That yes, she could manage, but look at her now. For a moment she thought she despised him.
“Woah there, little lady.”
Annabelle looked up, Johnny was looking down at her, carrying a bundle of cords.
“Sorry!” Annabelle pushed herself up.
“Did you fall?” He asked dubiously. She smiled thinly, nodding, and brushed off her jeans. Her camera was safe. Her heart had calmed down. He squinted into the darkness at her feet. 

“What made you trip?” He asked, assessing the wires, all carefully taped down. She laughed, the music and the darkness hiding her embarrassment.
“I’m just a klutz. Don’t worry, there’s nothing there... that I know of.” She sent him a reassuring smile, waved, and escaped to All Time Low’s dressing room. She lay down on the couch and tried to settle down the churning in her stomach.

For the rest of the set Alex wondered why on Earth he had brought the girl on stage. Why did he need the crowd to see her? He decided it was a crazy mid-show impulse, but he felt bad for making her join him on the platform she feared so much. He felt terrible, and when he jumped into the room to start the dancing, and saw her curled up in a ball on the couch, her eyes tight shut, he realised the huge mistake he had made.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered as the boys became raucous. She blinked, and sat up. She shook her head.
“It’s fine. It’s nothing.” She smiled briefly, dropping her eyes to the bouncing shoes of the other band members.
“I didn’t mean to-”
“Alex,” She looked up, meeting his eyes, “it’s fine.” She kissed his cheek and slipped out of the change-room, where, post-show, she felt she didn’t belong. Alex watched the door click closed. He sunk into the couch.