Don't only wanna dream about you

Cause a dream like this should never be this hard

It's funny, isn't it? It's funny how that 5 years ago...I was kissing Jordan Catalono in the high school boiler room, and now I'm paying 35 bucks just to see him...in person...from like, a thousand feet away. I don't even know why I'm doing this. Wait, actually I do. I could sum it all up with one word: Rayanne. She got me into this, to 'resolve my obsession'. She's way out in the deep end now...talking about family and careers...I guess that's what another 2 more stomach pumping will do to you, Especially if they are a year apart. I'm not into that, though. I guess I'm the one more in the deep end…I keep regretting stuff I should have done in high school, daydreaming about what could have happened...if I didn't dump Jordan for Brian Crackow and if Brian didn't eventually dump me a year and a half later when he decided he needed more time for his career as The Smartest Guy in the World...or something like that. But now, it's finally happening. I'm walking past security guards, displaying my "Backstage Pass" and wandering slowly into the main area of Jordan's dressing room. My heart is beating faster then it ever beat before, and I feel as if I'm having an asthma attack, even though I don't have asthma.

If I were to live my life without you

I'd come back and try it from the start

I waited around, loitering near the refreshment table, and wondering weather I should have called Jordan. I didn't speak to him after I graduated. I wanted to go places, see people...and he wanted to hang out at home and play his guitar. Who knew it would get him this far? Concerts around the world...when I heard his song on the radio I about went into cardiac arrest. Maybe I should have called. He probably won't even recognize me. Five years! He'll be like...Angela who? I don't remember her! Is she one of the many girls that I had in the boiler room during fifth period Geo-

"Angela?" Oh. My. God, it's Jordan, Standing in front of me. Oh, those eyes, that hair...that face! Oh God. I force myself to look at him.

"Hi Jordan," I say, thinking I sound like a school girl. Or a fan girl. I can't decide which is worse.

"Oh my God," He breathes. Tell me about it. "I thought I'd never see you again." Oh, I'm swooning. He looks the same as he did before, beautiful blue eyes, just-the-right-length hair...same build...same everything. I try and get myself to focus.

And I'll show you love

Cause we're all alone

"I know." I stammer. "I...I..." What could I say that would make up for breaking up with him? "I'm sorry I didn't' call you." He stares at me in that intrigued way, like they're is no one else in the room except us.

"It's okay." He tells me quietly. "I've been meaning to call you." Wait. Jordan Catalono...who hates the idea of commitment...wanted to call me?! "I missed you." He says, barely audible, I guess in response to the puzzled look on my face. Now I can't breathe. Say something, Angela! Say anything!!

"I missed you, too." I squeak out. He gives me one of those smiles, one of those trademark smiles that I see on posters everywhere and that used to annoy the living hell out of me. I smile back at him, our eyes connecting...he's leaning in closer...

Business aside

While life passes by

"Catalono!" Someone exclaims. "You're on in five!" The man comes up behind Jordan, pushing him by the shoulder and handing him his guitar. Jordan looks back at him and nods.

"Uh...bye." I tell him as he's walking off. He gives me one last glance and walks on stage. I'm wondering if this is the last time I'll see Jordan in person. I walk off, back into the crowd, a dreamy look on my face.

"Angela!" It's Rayanne. I sigh deeply. "How did it go? Tell me!" She's standing in the middle of the crowd, and for a second, I picture her how she was a few years ago…hair crazy, mis-matched clothes...she's still the same Rayanne, but sober, and more serious.

"He…I…we…" I struggle to find the words. "He wanted to call me. He missed me!" I exclaim. Rayanne squeals.

"He missed you! Oh My God, he missed you!" I try to hear the rest of what she's saying, but bass guitar drowns out all the other sounds.

And I'll part your hair

When it's in your eyes

There he is, on stage, my Jordan Catalono. The Jordan Catalono. The guy that wasn't going anywhere fast five years ago…the one that's life goals consisted of drinking beer and smoking cigarettes behind the school at night. There he is…standing in front of hundreds adoring fans, singing his guts out. Girls are screaming all around me. I almost want to hold my ears, but I'm too focused on Jordan. He's like, hypnotizing. Once you look at him, you can't stop.

Love, little red houses done under in my mind

I slowly let my eyes wander up his body…just to see what had changed. Yes, I know, I'm pitiful. But when I get to his eyes…I notice…they're looking at me. Me, Angela Chase, the nobody, the college student in community college while he's…Jordan Catalono! Staring at me! Girls are throwing themselves at his feet, just to touch him…like he's some kind of God…and he's staring at me. This feels like a dream to me…it's like that night when Jordan appeared at my house at midnight. I've imagined this so many times and now…its happening! It must be a sign. Jordan and I will be together forever, with little Jordan look-alikes for kids…and huge mansions to live in…

Got and 8 by 10 for ya to sign

My thoughts were interrupted by a girl tapping me.

"You dropped this." She said, handing me a picture of Jordan. It was one of those pictures they gave out before the show so he could autograph them. A flush of embarrassment ran over my body. Every girl in this room had a photo like this…hoping to get Jordan's signature. I was nothing more than a fan girl. I took the photo from her.

"Uh. Thanks." I said awkwardly, shoving it back into my back pocket. I was sure not to wrinkle it, you know…just in case…

Never had the need to know ya

Until I heard you sing to me that night

A new song was beginning, and I distantly remembered the chords to it. When the lyrics began, it took me until the chorus to remember.

"I call her Red…" Jordan was staring at me and I rolled my eyes. Red. His car. Why was he still playing this? The stupid hymn about his red car. Not my red hair. Yes, I know I'm being a little bitter about this…but geez. I bet some girl in the front row with bright red hair is like, "Jordan loves me!" and then he'll have to tell her it's about his car. God, I hope that happens.

Now all I wanna do is show ya

How to turn that darkness into light

A smirk crossed Jordan's face; somewhere across the years he must have learned about my mistake in his song. Or maybe he was just smirking. I think I'm paranoid. Rayanne and I watched Jordan the rest of his set, and when he exited, Rayanne pushed me to follow. I walked nervously and almost ran into the security guard.

"Sorry." I mumbled, walking forward.

"Chase!" Someone yelled from behind the door. I walked through. It was Jordan, surprise, surprise.

"Hey." I said.

"Hey." He said. We stared at each other. "So, you wanna like, grab a drink somewhere?" Grab a drink somewhere didn't sound very rockstar-ish. But I didn't want rockstar-ish. I wanted Jordan-ish. And that sounds pretty Jordan-ish.

"Yeah." I said, slowly smiling. "I'd like that."

Love, dirty stained jeans with the patches on the side

Jordan turned around, but not before slipping his hand into mine. It felt big and warm and I felt myself flush. He smiled down at me, and when he looked away, I grabbed his picture from my back pocket with my free hand and slowly crumpled it, tossing it to the ground.

Got an 8 by 10 for ya to sign

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