Little Miss Socialite

Growing up, Eliza knew one thing: that she was different. No she wasn’t a closeted witch or a vampire. None of that whimsical teen fantasy bullshit. No, she had a learning disability that her parents didn’t understand. It kind of got in the way of the pristine family image. No matter how hard she tried, she always fell sec- wait, she had three siblings so she technically fell fourth, dead last. Eliza was a blazing s**t-show compared to her older sister, Becca. Becca was always so put together growing up, and based on how well Becca was doing at Yale, Eliza assumed she was even more put together now. It was always rough growing up feeling inadequate in a home with parents who went to Ivy's and wanted the same from their kids. Although her older brother, Jordan, the insanely smart computer engineer wannabe, seemed to struggle a bit during primary school, he was on his way to Pepperdine next year. Their eldest brother, Matthew, was a Harvard graduate and was taking a gap-year to work at their dad’s law firm before going to law school at you guessed it, Harvard Law. Well, he still has to apply but she knew he’d get in. If her dad’s legacy endorsement didn’t work, she was sure a generous donation would get him admitted. This dynamic leaves poor Eliza at the bottom of the totem pole, where she has been since her parents figured out she had a problem with reading. Though they paid for the best tutors and sent her to boarding school for a few years, she was still trying to figure things out. Unfortunately, her parents thought that she was just lazy and frankly, a waste of money. Eventually, she stopped giving a f**k about their opinions. And that brings us to one fateful night during her senior year of high school. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So do you think we should still go?” I asked Courtney. My best friend was looking back at me with her rose colored hair in space buns and a glare on her face. Hell, I guess that's my answer. The tickets did costs an arm and a leg, not that that mattered anyway. “Yeah, Court, you‘re right,” I did a once over one last time before I stepped away from my full length mirror. My dark curly hair was in a ponytail with my unruly bangs swooping haphazardly to the side of my face. I had on light eyeliner, just enough to make my brown eyes pop a little. And so if my mother saw a picture of me, she wouldn’t categorize my appearance as a night moves dancer. After a chaotic half hour of trying to figure out what to wear, I went with a leather skirt with silver details on the side, and a red ruched crop top. If I was going to go to my first rock concert, I had to look the part. “Alright,” I turned back around to look at Courtney. “How do I look?” Compared to my insanely pretty friend, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull off the whole rocker-chic look. Especially because my black ass never fell into that crowd in the first place. “Um, I think you look pretty good,” she shrugged and smirked. “I mean, if you looked like s**t I would have said something fifteen minutes ago.” She popped her gum and bent down to lace up her gold combat boots. I kicked her boot and looked around for my jacket. “Mmkay, I didn’t ask for an attitude little girl.” She flipped me off and I could definitely see how she got labeled as “the feisty Filipina” at school. Obviously no one has cared to say that s**t to her face because everyone and the Lord knows that she would burn the place down. “Okay okay, Eliza let’s go, I don’t want to be late.” Courtney yanked on my arm and pulled my stumbling ass out of my room and towards the front door of my family’s brownstone. The ride over was considerably comfortable given we took Courtney’s family town car, but the comfort didn’t ease the butterflies in my stomach. I’ve been listening to this band since my sophomore year of school. I was scrolling deep through Tumblr and landed on some creepy blog. The playlist for the site started and I ended up staying on the creepy methamphetamine-user-hot air balloon-drawer’s site. The mix of drug paraphernalia, nudes, and hot air balloons wasn’t the move. I knew that if one artist could keep me on a psycho’s blog page, it was good music. I’ve been listening to them ever since, and I’m finally seeing them in person. After sitting through typical city traffic, the two of us finally made it to the Garden. It was show time! I had practiced all the songs in the mirror so I’d look cute as hell singing along. Walking past security and into the crowd of crazy people, we started to get looks of confusion and some laughs. I know I’m not the only black girl that has been to a rock concert before. My illustrious Aunt Kathy was a roadie back in the day. We couldn’t possibly look that out of place. “Come on!” Courtney shouted over the voices of hundreds of people talking at once. She pulled me along towards a passageway that was blocked off only for people who had seats for the first five rows from the stage. We walked for a while longer until we made a right and walked into a closed off section. Courtney and I had really great seats. We were front and center, right where all the action happens. I checked the time on my Blackberry. It was 7:59 which meant that in less than a minute, the opening act would come out and play and then after that, Psychotic Breakdowns. The openers were amazing. The artist was a 16 year old gender-fluid person from Salt Lake City and they were amazing. They had a couple of songs that I had heard before but didn’t know they performed. They were so good but I was so ready to see the band come out. The lead singer was so hot and I was looking forward to staring at him for an hour and a half. I’m talking dark green hooded eyes, a strong narrow chin, and the sexiest pair of eyebrows I’ve seen since the Dolce and Gabbana spring show. Suddenly, the lights went down and yellow strobes started to flicker. I screamed and hollered when PB came out on stage. I looked over at Courtney and she was freaking out too. I took her hands and we began jumping up and down and screaming at each other. “Well those girls seem excited,” I heard the lead singer’s voice come through the speakers. I looked up and my eyes locked with his. From the corner of my eyes I could see the Courtney and I were on those big screens. My eyes widened and I screamed again. “Okay so we’d like to start off with one of our favorites, Better Than Average.” I bit my lip from screaming some more. Something is just telling me that I’m not even going to be able to talk tomorrow. The band played the song and on the last three verses, Courtney and I yelled along, “Quit your day job girl. There’s so much to see in the world. Come fly with me.” They were blasting through their set, creating such a fun atmosphere along the way. All of the favorites were played, including songs from their first mixtape. I was a fan of the throwbacks. They took me back to hanging out with friends sophomore year. Almost finished with the set, the guys started to interact with the crowd. Neil on bass read some signs in the crowd, and Anthony on guitar was making jokes. “Hey, you two come up here.” Hmm… I could have sworn that I just heard Neil Klein talking. To me? I questioningly looked at Courtney. She looked confused too. “Yes,” he laughed a bit. “You two. Come up here.” And how could I say no to that? I smiled giddily as a few security guards helped us up on stage. I tried to be a bit careful so the guys behind us couldn’t weren’t flashed my ass cheeks. The wolf whistles I heard from behind me weren’t reassuring. “So what are your names?” Anthony, the lead guitarist, asked us. I could only bite my lip smiling and look over at Adrian. He was the lead vocalists and absolutely hotter than every guy at my private school and every guy in Magic Mike. With his deep tan and dark green eyes, I melted on the spot. And why God, did his hair have to look so perfect? It was curly, but also kind of straight? And was it honey blonde or caramel brown? God, I didn’t know but it looked so soft and I wanted to touch it. If it wasn’t for Courtney snapping out of her trance and telling them our names, I’m sure the entire crowd would think we were the most ditsy girls. Thankfully, she has a major crush on the bassists, Neil, so she was able to pull it together to save us face. “I‘m Courtney Knoll and this is my best friend Eliza Smith.” I smiled kind of goofily and looked out at the crowd. There were people in the orchestra, on the floor, and in the balcony. I hope the golden mist I rubbed onto my arms was giving my melanin that good ole faux-summer glow. I’d be damned if I looked washed out in October of all months. “Well you girls are very pretty,” Adrian said looking directly at me. I felt my cheeks heat up, and I tried to smile but I think it looked more like an awkward grimace. “You‘re not too bad yourself,” I smirked. His green eyes either sparkled or were coincidentally caught in the stage lights, either way he gave me a charming smile and looked over his shoulder before turning to face us again. “What would you girls say to having free tickets to our next show with meet and greet and free swag?” The crowd cheered and I peed just a bit. My eyes were so wide and I couldn’t help the high-pitched squeal that left my red-stained lips. “Yes!” Adrian moved closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “come talk to me backstage after this.” He walked back towards the center of the stage and one of the crew members ushered me and a hysterical Courtney to the back corner of the stage to watch the rest of the show. “Now who‘s ready to rock?” he shouted.