A/N: the summary may be misleading; it isn't from the POV of a guy, anyways.

"We can break down together," he speaks it so softly, and I giggle some. He's obviously high and his eyeliner is smeared down his face, and I wonder when he started wearing the black liner.

School of Rock's on stage, Dewey belting out the lyrics of a new song that Zack had written only two weeks ago. Katie's moving her head like a turtle, and the guy sitting next to me points this out and laughs hysterically. Zack's moving his hands too fast, and I can't focus my eyes on him for too long or I might get dizzy, and Freddy's making the most intense faces I've ever seen(and when I say 'intense', I mean ridiculous). The main band is all there, no one else because they all decided long ago that they weren't really in the band so it was no use for them to even be there. We didn't argue and we let them all go do their own thing.

"So, what's your name, Summer?" The guys asks, reaching for my water that I'm really not drinking anyways. He already seemed to know this answer without really knowing.

"It's Summer," I answer, watching as he pours some of the water into his mouth, a few drops falling onto his chin. "And your's is?"

He looks over at me, smiles and says, "It's Jim. Jimmy, Jim Limb, Jim." And he laughs like it was the most funniest thing in the world, and I giggle, again because this guy is such a kick.

School of Rock is wrapping up on stage, Dewey's rambling about mainstream bands or something, even though he's totally looking over the fact that we've already been on MTV once or twice. The crowd yells and agree with everything he's saying, but I ignore him. I'm not too sure if Dewey's really that in touch with reality anymore. Jim agrees with me when I speak this to him.

It's cold outside when we leave, the van already loaded up and everyone's exhausted. Jim had tried to leave with us, but Dewey assured him that we were going to be back to see him in a few weeks, which we weren't, but Jim didn't have to know that. He had smiled, slurred something incoherent, and Freddy had mentioned something to me about attracting too many freakish guys. He has no idea.

"I need cigarettes," Freddy reminds Dewey as he slides the van's door shut.

"You're gonna die an early death," Katie says to Freddy, "and then you won't be able to make every teen girl's hearts swoon because you'll be six feet under being devoured by maggots."

Freddy jokingly laughs and I can see through the rear view mirror as he jumps onto her, sending her flailing onto her back. I quickly avert my eyes because I hate to see them, or anyone, flirt. It's kind of become a phobia, I guess you could say.

Zack lean between mine and Dewey's seat, speaking about something so fast and so excitedly that I don't catch it. Dewey speaks back to him in the same tempo and same tone and I wonder if they want anyone else to be in this conversation. I'm guessing not because when Freddy yells something back to the front, they completely ignore him. The lead guitarist and lead singer seem to be too close to each other.

I hear Katie laugh from the back of the van. "Dewey, can we please go," I say, "my parents are most likely wondering where I am. I should have been home an hour ago." Which is a total lie because my parents are actually on a business trip, but my phobia is making me have anxiety. The van suddenly feels a bit too small.

"Oh, but of course, Tink," Zack says something I can finally understand. "Wouldn't want you to get grounded and make you have to stay in your house and do your homework like you do every weekend."

I ignore him.

My house is warm and welcoming when I step inside, but I feel just as cold and just as anxious as when I was in the van. Dewey had made a remark about my parents' car not being in the driveway like always. I told them it was most likely in the garage, but Zack did that whole coughbullshitcough thing, and my face had felt like a third degree burn.

When I step into my room, my dog loyally follows me in and jumps onto my bed. He curls up and almost immediately falls asleep. I wish I could do that nowadays, but things don't work out that well. My computer's still on, but I bypass it. I don't feel like talking to anyone or anything. Robot or human, they both remind me and..

--and I bite my lip enough to taste copper.

A/N:
short and sweet and downright annoying for me. I have no idea what to do with this story, but i know what i want to come out of it. Wish me luck.