Chapter 7-- The Concert, Part 2

                                    

                                          
         Once Farrah gets to my house, I tell her what happened, "Rowry asked me out on a date.."
                          
        "He did what? Oh my goggles! What did you say?"  She replies.  "I basically rejected him," I look down, Lie.
                          
        "Good, It would be horrible if you went from Dillan, to him,"  she makes a insulted face, as we head to the car. 
                          
        Farrah does not know, I would not even know how she would react.  It would be doomsday for me if she ever found out.  "Shun. Shun," She would say, "You are not my friend."  Not exaggerating.  But, then again, he is not as bad as she describes him.  Actually, he is above the lowest class.  It is just there are better to chose from.  Like, Deston.  He has all the girls, in or below his class. 
                          
        I laugh, "I know right?  He is such a loser!" Lie.  I tend to do that a lot.  But, can not blow my cover, right?  It has not failed me, yet.  And I tend to keep it that way, a long time. 
                          
        Keep it away from Farrah, my parents, people at school, the world.  But, would it be such a crime, as it seems to be?  To tell Farrah the truth, let her know.  Let him know.  Right now, I am still deciding, whether I do, or do not. 
                          
        It would seem kind of stupid to tell him I like him, and it be just a faze.  Something that could drift away in a short matter of time.  Then people would think I still did.  Me? Being a laughingstock.  Not going to happen. 
                          
        My reputation is far to.. let us say, developed.  It takes time and effort to become popular, which I almost was.  But, Dillan made me lost all that I have gained.  Now, is just middle class, for me.  And he gets to be, 'All superior' up in his throne.  Towering over everyone. 
                          
        It makes me think, "What about the lowest class, or, even, middle?"  Highest class just gets to be there, at ease, with magical powers, something.  No matter, if they get dumped. 
                          
        "We are almost there," Farrah surprises me, and I get shocked back into reality, again.  "Oh," I say, "You scared me." 
                          
        "Scared you?  How did I do that?"  She laughs as she drives up to the man at paid parking.  "That will be fifteen dollars," he goes through the motions.  "Outrageous," she whispers loud enough for him to hear, unintentionally. 
                          
        Handing the money to him, he says, "Thank you," then pushes the button to let us through. 
                          
        "I hate those people," Farrah angrily says while looking for a space, "Plus, these b!***es take all the good spots!" waving her hand around.  I stay quiet.  Do not want to mess with her when she is angry, and driving.  
                          
        Once we come to a stop, it is at the last floor, the top.  (Note; that also rhymed.)  Farrah, obviously slurring cuss words, closes the door and we start walking towards the elevator, when I see Caroline out the corner of my eye. 
                          
        "Hey, look," I whisper. 
                          
        Caroline gets out of her car, also angry, probably even more than Farrah.  She slams the door, and kicks the top left wheel.  From pain, she staggers back holding her foot, then falls to the ground. 
                          
           Now, Farrah and I are almost about to burst with laughter, and we both accidentally let out some giggles.  Caroline shoots us a look as she is getting up, and we walk away nonchalantly. 
                          
                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*          
                          
           The aroma of fried oreos, funnel cake, and multiple perfumes (or cologne) fill the air. I try to focus on one scent, but it is to hard.
                          
           "It smells amazing here," Farrah says while pushing people out of the way-- literally --in the crowd, heading toward a stand, and I follow after her.
                          
           Cashier repeats the order, "That will be one Corn Dog, a diet coke, and a medium fry, will there be anything else? No? Okay, eleven dollars." 
                          
           Farrah hands him the money and we step aside for the next customer.  "Do not you think that is a bit much?" I ask her. 
                          
           "Nah, have you seen how much I eat?" she laughs.  It is true, and I have seen her eat.  She consumes almost a pound of food a day, yet still remains at her slim stick figure.  I would say, "I am jealous," but, men prefer some curves.  At least I am hoping. 
                          
           "Number Sixteen," They call our number, and I go up and get it. 
                          
           Once we find our seats, front row, of course, Farrah chows down and I decide to take a look to see if we know anyone else from our school that might be there.  But, as soon as I get up, Caroline, Miyra, and Sasha, are only a few feet away.  I sit down fast.  
                          
           "B!****s to the left," I whisper, and Farrah is a little disgruntled, she was focused on eating. 
                          
           "What?" she wipes her mouth, "I thought only Caroline was here," she hand motions at them. 
                          
           "Me too, but, you know, B!****s hang with b!****s," we laugh. 
                          
           The lights go dim and women shriek.  Ouch. I guess I did not need that ear..  The lights on stage slowly ease on, it is purple coloured and there is smoke fog.  When Tom Figeur walks on stage, the screaming gets louder, not to mention that women are throwing panties, and other items, like roses.  These people are crazed, Farrah is crazed.  
                          
           Tom gives a seductive smile, and starts to sing, 
                          
"I knew we were right from the beginning, 
                          
laughing, smiling, like we always do, 
                          
but since you met the other guy, my heart is in two.."  
                          
           I am a little shocked, from the fans still. 
                          
           After, a ton of yelling, singing, fist pumping, and phones swaying, the concert is finally over.  I am left with my ears ringing and Farrah's talking being super quiet compared.  Now, is time for the V.I.P Passes. 
                          
           "You scared?" She asks, "Cause I am feeling a bit nervous."  I fan her, "I am not worried.  He is like us, except he sings, plays guitar, and about half the world wishes to be or to date him."  I laugh because it does not help. 
                          
           "Just think, he is not any different from anyone else, plus, I will be there for you," I am still smiling, and she smiles back. 
                          
           "Next," the security guard repeats, "Passes?" We hold up our passes.  "You may enter."  We walk in. 
                          
            "Hello," Tom Figeur grins at us, "What are your names?"  "She.. She is Jessi, and I am Farrah," she stutters as he walks up. 
                          
            "I am Tom, as you beautiful girls might know," he laughs and kisses Farrah's hand.  She is shaking, and in aw.   I stay unamused. 
                          
            "You look amazing," he whispers to her, then whispers to me, "Be mine?" 
                          
            "Hell no," I state, and Farrah says toward me, "Do not be like that!" 
                          
            "I am so sorry, she is getting over a break up," she keeps talking, "She gets crabby after things like that." 
                          
            He laughs, "So it is just the breakup that makes her like this?"  "NO," I try not to shout while Farrah is still talking, "Yeah." 
                          
            "Will she go on a dinner date with me?" he asks.  "Yup," Farrah must not be thinking.  "Meet me at 'The Steele Pig,' eight O' clock, Tomorrow?"
                          
            "She will be there!" Farrah replies, exchanging mine and his number.  After they are done talking, I walk off in a huff. 
                          
            "What was that?" I point at the V.I.P room from outside the exit.  "Me getting you a date, sweetpea," Farrah chuckles. 
                          
            "Thanks," I shoot at her sarcastically.  "You are welcome," she is still giggling.