Post by callie on Jul 26, 2009 0:52:14 GMT -4
it was the look on your face
THAT GAVE YOU AWAY[/color][/center]
It would be pointless to state the fact that it’s hot out in the desert and Las Vegas, but Tristan still sometimes complained about the fact often. Sure, he loved hot weather, but not when he was sitting outside in it for 10+ hours a day with the only shade being from the not very forgiving tent over head. It’s not like it completely blocked out the sun, it just provided a somewhat mild amount of shade that made the heat maybe a little bit more bearable than standing out in the direct sunlight. But still, it was hot and the kid was sweating a little more than he probably should be for just sitting down in one of those fold-out chairs with arm rests beneath a somewhat shaded tent.
Why was he sitting underneath this tent? Well, for those of you who don’t know, it was their band’s merch tent on the tour, and the rest of the band and their merch guy was wandering around the festival or getting some food or something. He, himself, had just ate and grabbed a beer to sit back and relax with (we’ll ignore the fact that he’s one year shy of the legal drinking age) before they had to worry about playing or anything, instead giving their merch kids a break while he handled the sales and such. He really didn’t mind doing it, just as long as he didn’t do it every single day of the tour with the fans coming up constantly pestering you for pictures or autographs or trying to hold a conversation with you about absolutely nothing. The rest of his band-mates could pull it off, but seeing as he wasn’t the most talkative person out there? It was hard. He needed substance to a conversation, depth, meaning, anything besides the incessant chatter of the fans trying to relate to you in some obscure manner. He didn’t need it. He related well enough to his current friends and didn’t see the need to make any more of them, especially if they’d just turn out to be fake or one-sided friendships that would disintegrate within a month. Tristan had all the friends he needed in his mind.
The somewhat tall boy had zoned out behind large white-framed sunglasses and was snapped back to reality when someone came up to the merch tent and uttered a ‘hey’ as they started browsing the shirts, cds, and standard memorabilia one would find at a merch booth. Tristan, being his overly friendly self (/sarcasm) simply gave the kids a nod and a “hey” before going back to zoning out, checking his phone every so often for the time as well as seeing if he missed a call or two. The kid didn’t end up buying anything, just browsing before he gave a curt “Thanks. See you around man.” to which Tristan just gave a small nod and an almost silent “See you.” before he went back to zoning out and checking his phone.
God, sitting at the merch booth was so boring. Where the hell was the rest of his band, even their crew? Oh, right, eating...or just exploring the festival. Fuck, he was so bored. If nothing happened within the next few minutes? He’d probably leave, just for a few minutes, to explore again. But he knew he’d be in deep shit from the rest of the band if that happened, since it’d leave things to be wide open to be stolen. So he’d just have to suck it up and stay just a little longer, someone was bound to show up. For now he’d just nurse his beer and sit in this somewhat comfortable fold-up chair with his feet resting on the bin filled with extra shirts. Yeah, this was a good position for him to be in. His beer was still cold, still tasty, and he was comfortable. He let his sunglasses slip down from his head to the bridge of his nose with a small flick of his finger, adjusting them slightly as he watched the people at the other tents around theirs, and whoever was just wandering around the festival unsure of where to head next. Silently judging their outfits, what they looked like and how they acted throughout the whole thing. He’d laugh at them to himself, sip on his beer, and then go back to watching the festival-goers. It grew repetitive, and he found himself texting his sister Molly. Even if they were just stupid little texts like hi sis enjoying the festival? or i’m bored come keep me company ):, just to see if he could pass the time any faster than it was going (and honestly, it was going pretty damn slowly). He’d occasionally get back a response from her, mostly telling him that she was busy and couldn’t come keep him company, or that she loved him to which he said i’d love you if you came to visit me. Probably not the response she wanted, but she knew her brother, and he rarely told her he loved her. She already knew he loved her, so he could never understand why she needed the constant reassurance. In his mind he didn’t constantly have to say it to make it known and real, but with her he figured it was a necessity? Or she just liked annoying him. Either way he just wished she’d sometimes stop.
But really, this was all besides the point...who else could he text to see if they wanted to join him in the boring merch tent that had just started to get raided by fangirls, some of which were staring at him in that star-struck manner most fans tend to do. Honestly, it was distracting as they kept staring, his hazel-brown eyes doing their best to hide behind sunglasses and focus on his phone while they stood there, arguing and giggling. Jesus fucking christ, someone please save me. He thought to himself as he watched the girls. Somebody better show up soon, or else there’d be hell to pay.
TAG: TATI as sammy
NOTES:; :< sorry it's lame
WORDS:1049