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There is yelling. So much damn yelling. Everyone is so stressed out. I think everyone needs to do some group yoga or something. Or at least go out and get drunk. Marty yelled that we need to start over and someone started the music. I get stuck with Justin for most of the show. I shouldn’t say get stuck, I guess it’s a good thing, for most people it is. For me, it’s not really. I mean, he is the center of attention on stage and everyone will be looking at him, which means they’ll be looking at me. That could be good I guess. It’s not really for me though. I’d rather hide to the side, hell I’d rather not even be here but we won’t talk about that.
Justin is like throwing me around and I swear to god if he drops me I’m going to kick his ass. When the music stopped he took a deep breath and paced around the room, running his hands through his hair.
“Relax, you’re so stressed,” I said as he walked past me.
He stopped and looked down at me, running his hands through his hair again, “I keep fucking it up, it’s not hard Dallas, I can’t do my own fucking dance.”
“It’s just a dance.”
“Yeah, it’s just a fucking dance that I can’t do.”
“I can teach you if you want. I mean, I’ll teach you how to move since you have no clue what you’re doing.”
He put his head down and tried to hide the smile on his face, “You’re a smartass.”
“I’m just trying to help,” I smiled.
“Yeah, you’re just trying to help alright,” he shook his head and sat down, “Why aren’t you stressed?”
“Why would I be stressed? It’s not my show.”
Justin threw his head back and laughed, “Yeah, and it doesn’t matter if you fuck up my show.”
“Exactly, I’m glad you see it my way.”
“That’s good to know,” he played with the string of his sweatpants. He seriously is freaked out to the extreme. I don’t know why… well I guess I know why. I just figured someone who has been doing this since he could walk wouldn’t be so scared about putting on a show. I mean it is his job.
“Don’t be all stressed about that now, I’m not going to fuck up your show.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know the dance, unlike some people.”
“That’s it?” he asked with a half smile.
“No, I’m not going to fuck it up because I’m good.”
“That’s it?” his smile grew.
“Amazing. I’m pretty amazing.”
“You are.”
“The best ever actually. You’re so lucky that I’m doing this, I’m going to save your tour.”
He laughed, “There’s the cocky Dallas we all know and love.”
“I’m not cocky.”
“Not at all, I still want my rematch.”
“Golfing? Really? You want to get embarrassed again?”
“Nah,” he laughed, “I think I can take you, not yet though, I need some time to practice.”
That made me laugh, “You’re a complete loser.”
“Takes one to know one,” he pulled me into a headlock.
“Ew, you’re so sweaty, get away.” I stood up, “Focus on your dance Twinkle Toes, don’t embarrass me.”
I know the theme of this whole thing, for me at least, is to jump. I’m trying to get my life straightened out and take chances. I am taking chances with this tour. Fuck, I’m going on a 25-date tour with music no one has ever heard. But today, I’m ready to jump… off a fucking bridge. I’m so stressed out. It’s not a new feeling, I always stress out before I start touring, but for some reason I’m more stressed than I ever was before.
Maybe it’s because I can’t do my own fucking dance. Maybe it’s because I feel like no one is going to come to the show when they don’t know the music since the album isn’t coming out for another few months. Maybe it’s just because everything hasn’t clicked yet. The dancers aren’t getting it and the band sounds good but it’s not together yet. I know it’s still early, but fuck we start in another two weeks, all this shit should be figured out by now.
Thank God for Marty and Dallas, they’re the only ones on the tour that know what they’re doing. I don’t even know what I’m doing and it’s my damn tour. As long as we put the focus on them, maybe I’ll just hang out under the stage and sing and let them do everything.
We had to finish rehearsal early because everyone had to go get fitted. That brings even more stress because I don’t think we should be leaving rehearsal early for a fitting. That’s fucked up. I’m scared that the first show someone’s going to end up falling off the stage. The stylist brought all the clothes to the dance studio and set up a whole area to do the fitting. When I walked to the area they handed me a suit and I went behind a curtain to get changed. I walked out from behind the curtain and saw Dallas. Holy shit.
It’s not that I didn’t know she’d look that good, I mean it’s obvious she’s a pretty girl. But she’s standing there in fucking lingerie. I did not know she had that body under there. Every time I’ve seen her she’s been in sweats or jeans. She doesn’t wear those low cut shirts or the short skirts, so it was quite the surprise. A pleasant surprise I must say.
“Stop, don’t look at me,” she covered herself up quickly. I guess I was staring.
“I’m not looking at you.”
“OK, then turn around.”
She’s getting uncomfortable, she’s turning red, “How are you going to go out there every night wearing that without everyone looking at you?”
“I didn’t know I was going to be looking like a hooker.”
I laughed at that one, “You don’t look like a hooker.”
“I feel like one,” she covered her hands over her chest, “Please turn around.”
I turned around, although there was a mirror so I could still see her. “I will turn around Dallas.”
“Thank you. How am I supposed to dance in this? It’s so tight it will probably just pop open.” She grabbed onto her tits as she looked in the mirror, mind you she thinks I can’t see her. “And this is so short, you can practically see my ass anyway but when I’m dancing and I bend over, the poor kids in the front row will get a view of my ass.”
She bent over and looked at herself in the mirror. I know she was hoping no one could see her ass, but I must admit I was wishing for the opposite. I cleared my throat and looked away. I need to straighten my shit out or something bad is going to happen.
“It’s not that short.”
She laughed, “Alright Justin, you must be used to hookers.”
“I’m not used to hookers,” I laughed, “I’m just saying it works for you, so work it.”
I could see her smile as a few people came out to take measurements and see what needed to be longer or shorter. My pants need to be longer, they’re high waters. Dallas would probably think her clothes need to be longer but I’d have to disagree.
“Like a little longer, please?” I heard her pleading with the stylist and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Justin?” Jenna called my name as she tried to fix the suit I was wearing.
“Yeah?”
“You’re a space cadet. How are the arms? Too short?”
I nodded my head and held my arms out straight, “Yeah, too short.”
“What about shoes?”
“I got my sneakers.” I don’t wear shoes I wear sneakers, especially on stage. Fuck that, I don’t wear shoes even when I’m not on stage. I will be the guy that wears sneakers to my wedding.
“Why does he get to wear sneakers and I have to wear these hooker shoes?”
“Mind your business Dallas, stop eavesdropping,” I said with a smile.
“No seriously though Justin, there is no way I can dance in these shoes. There is no way any of them can dance in these shoes. You know damn well they can’t even do the fucking dance barefoot, with the shoes they’ll really be falling off the stage.”
That’s funny, true, but funny. “Wear sneakers then.”
“Really?”
“I don’t care.”
“You heard him, he doesn’t care, I don’t have to wear them.”
“I did hear him,” Jenna said, “But I don’t think it’s really his decision.”
“Of course it is. It’s his show, he gets to make all the decisions.”
“That’s right, sneakers and shorter skirts.”
She rolled her eyes as Jenna handed us each a different outfit. We both went behind different curtains to get changed. “How’s this one working for you Dallas?”
“More my style, for sure.” She came out wearing a pair of jeans and a while wife beater, “The shirt’s a little tight though.”
I laughed, everything is too tight for her, “It’s easier to move when it’s tight.”
“OK, fine then, make his pants tight so he can’t even move.”
Jenna laughed, “You’re all set Justin, I have one more for you Veda.”
“Yippee!” she answered as she grabbed the last outfit.
I figure I’ll take my time so I can walk out with her. Damn, I got a fucking rash all over my arm. I get stress rashes, or hives I guess. I have issues. Fucking issues. I don’t know how to deal with stress, obviously. Everyone says to remove yourself from stressful situations but how the fuck would I do that? My mom says I should go see a therapist but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.
I waited in the lobby, getting my things together but really waiting for Veda to come out. “How’s that stress coming?”
“It’s still there.”
“You should go take a nice bubble bath, that will help you relax. It will relieve the stress.”
I laughed, there is no way in hell I’m going to go home and take a bubble bath, “I’ll get right on that Dallas.”
“OK,” she laughed, “Then maybe get a good funny movie, and watch it with popcorn and pizza and beer.”
“That’s more my style. What are you doing tonight?”
She shrugged, “Probably just relax.”
“Want to come over for some pizza, popcorn and beer?” she didn’t answer me right away, I don’t want her to think it’s a date, I just don’t want to watch a movie alone and if she’s not doing anything there’s no point in us both watching movies alone. “I’ll call Marty and see what he’s doing.”
“Marty has that date,” she answered. I knew that, but I figured if I asked it was worth something. “But yeah, sounds good, as long as we can get Doritos.”
“I have some Cool Ranch at home.”
“No, the buffalo wings kind. Have you had them?” I shook my head, “Oh my god, they’re like addicting. So good.”
“Alright,” I laughed, “We’ll get the Doritos. So you’re in?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”
“Do you have your car?”
She shook her head, “I came with Marty.”
“Who left twenty minutes ago.”
“Did he really? Are you serious?” her mouth dropped open.
“Good guy right?” I laughed at her expression, “Come on, I need to get out of here.”
We stopped on the way back to my house to get the supplies. I stopped at Whole Foods but was told I was “fucking crazy” because there’s no way Dallas can get her Doritos at Whole Foods. So instead, I pulled out of the parking spot and found a Wal-Mart down the street.
“Now here, they have the Doritos,” she said with a smile as she walked through the store.
“They do, and movies, let’s see what they got.” People are watching as I walk through the store. I know that life is pretty good when my biggest problem about my job is that too many people care about me, but it gets to me. I mean, I always feel like an idiot.
I don’t think Dallas notices. She’s too busy hunting down her Doritos. They look like the kind of people that are just going to look. Maybe they’ll follow me around for a little but I don’t think they’ll bother me.
“I wanted to see the Jesse James movie.”
“OK,” she said as she continued looking down the aisle.
“Transformers?”
“I thought we were doing a comedy.”
I nodded my head but grabbed onto the movie anyway, “I need movies for the bus rides.”
“OK, Knocked Up?” she held it up.
“I have it, Underdog?”
“Is that a serious suggestion?” she laughed when I nodded my head, “God, it’s going to be a long night.”
“What? I used to love that show.”
“When you were five, let’s try something else. Dirty Dancing? I bet you love that one.”
I laughed and grabbed it from her, placing it back on the shelf, “It’s my favorite movie. Step Up, that’s more your speed.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“You have to watch it, it’s your life story” I grabbed on to it.
“I thought we were watching a funny movie,” she whined.
“For the bus, relax. You want to watch Knocked Up?”
“I haven’t seen it, it’s supposed to be good.”
“Yeah it’s good. Get your Doritos.”
“And your beer.”
Who does she think I am? “I have beer.”
“What kind?” she asked as she headed for the beer aisle. This is a girl that knows where she’s going.
“What kind do you want?”
“Corona Light.”
“Corona?” I asked with a laugh, “I thought you said beer.”
“Corona Light,” she corrected me, “And it is a beer.”
“Hardly, is that all you’ll drink?” she nodded her head and I laughed, “Dallas, I thought you were tough.”
“Other beer tastes like piss, I’ll only drink Corona.”
“Or wine coolers,” I added with a smile.
She gave me a sarcastic smile, “Or margaritas. Have you ever had those Jose Cuervo ones?” I shook my head, “We have to get them, they’re so good.”
“Go for it Dallas.”
“OK Memphis, I totally will.”
I laughed as I followed her through the store, “That doesn’t work as good.”
“It works just fine,” she continued walking, never looking back at me. I take it she does not enjoy being called Dallas. That’s a shame.
When we got to my house I felt the need to warn her, “My dogs are crazy.”
“It’s ok, I like dogs. Don’t you want me to help you with the bags?”
“I got it, can you open the door?” she grabbed the keys from my hand and opened the door, my dogs went crazy and jumped on her, I’m not surprised, and she says she likes dogs, “Get down!” I screamed as I placed the bags down so I could grab them, “Sorry.”
“They’re fine, hey guys,” she fell to her knees to play with them, “Your house is kind of bad ass.”
“That’s why I got it. The description the realtor gave me was: five bedroom, eight bath, bad ass.”
She laughed sarcastically and her lip curled up a little on her right side. I haven’t noticed that before, I doubt it’s the first time. “And I’m the smartass? Don’t you have a cinema with stadium seating or something?”
She thinks she’s funny, “I do, hurry up I’m hungry.” I grabbed the pizza box and the beer and Veda grabbed onto her Doritos and margaritas, following me closely, “Are you going to let me try those chips?”
“We’ll see. You’re house is seriously amazing. Why am I staying with Marty? I should be staying here?”
“You’d have to be invited first.”
“Not really. I bet I could live here for a week and you wouldn’t even know. There has to be a room that you never go in.”
I laughed as I opened the door to the theater and shook my head, “You’re not moving in Dallas.”
“Obviously,” she rolled her eyes and sat down, in my seat. It’s my seat. I always sit there.
“That’s my spot.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, get up.”
She pushed over after another eye roll and I sat down, “I didn’t know we had assigned seats.”
“Now you do. This is my seat, it’s always been my seat.”
“Alright it’s your seat, Superstar” she opened the box of pizza, “Am I allowed to have the middle or can I only have the pieces with the crust?”
“Whatever you want Dallas, the world is yours,” I smiled.
“I hate that smile,” she grabbed a piece of pizza, “Now you know.”
“You hate my smile?”
“That cocky asshole smile,” she laughed at the expression I gave her, “Oh please, like you don’t know.”
“I don’t know.” I answered honestly, how is my smile cocky?
“Can we watch the movie? I didn’t know there’d be so much talking or I wouldn’t have come,” she finished with a laugh. Not just any laugh, the loud laugh where she can’t control herself. It’s the contagious one that makes everyone within a three mile radius laugh for no apparent reason, but just because she is laughing.
“You’re hilarious.”
“Thanks,” she smiled as I put the movie in. We managed to shut up and watch the movie. We got through most of it and then mid movie she fell asleep. No lie. I swear she was laughing one second and the next I felt her head fall to my shoulder and she was asleep. There’s something wrong with that.
Who falls asleep in the middle of a movie?
Better yet, who falls asleep in a hilarious movie where she’s laughing one minute and fast asleep the next?
Dallas.
It sounds weird but it feels good to have someone cuddle up to me again.
Should I wake her or let her sleep? She’s go to be tired. I looked down at her on my shoulder and tried to move but she didn’t wake up. I didn’t try too hard, I know I could have easily woken her up, but she is tired. And of course there is the fact that she feels good sleeping on my shoulder.
This could be trouble.
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