For AnxietyBitchh

This imagine, she's thick. Enjoy!  XO

Freak Show era--all about that bass player, Chris ;)

My whole body was throbbing. I was smashed and beat and tossed around in the pit, yet I felt no pain. I felt like I was reborn after I emerged from the human jungle of limbs. Once the cool air hit my skin, I took in a deep breath. My bag was where I had left it. The Spanish girls that I had met earlier in the day were still sitting next to it, braiding each other's hair and laughing.

"Gracias," I nodded as I picked up my bag and slid it over my head.

The girl with short bleached hair and a nose ring smiled at me before I turned to walk away. I begged them to join me in the pit while silverchair performed, but they insisted it was too intense for them. I admit I was a little scared at first, and a sharp jab to my back had me alarmed for a minute, but once they were half-way through "Slave" I felt invincible.

There wasn't any other bands I was obsessed with or too thrilled to see, so I meandered around the grounds of the festival. The sun was piercing through me. The faces in the crowds were pink and happy and free. Eventually I came to a stand with a surprisingly short line. A beer, a honey wheat one, ice cold, was calling my name, so I dropped my bag next to me and waited for my turn to order.

I paid for my beer and my heart overflowed with joy, but I couldn't help but stop in my tracks when I heard someone say, "Yeah, man, they are over there now. Talking with fans."

I tried not to act like a total freak, but once I realized the dude was talking about silverchair I watched as the fellow fans he spoke to cut through hoards of people to get to the band. With my beer half gone and my joyous heart brimming with the possibility of expressing my gratitude for such an awesome show, I totally stalked them all the way past and around the stage that 'chair performed on.

Sure enough, they were there. But we were late. I couldn't see Chris or Daniel. Ben was the only one out there now. There were about a handful of fans joking around with him. After they left, I finished my beer and felt like a real idiot for only buying one beer.

"Where'd you get that?"

I almost choked on my last sip.

"Pardon?" I managed to ask.

"How was it," Ben asked. "Is the stand that sold it close by? Was it cold?"

I pointed in the general direction and nodded. He grinned and banged on the door of the trailer behind him. "Chris! I've got the location of cold beer. I repeat--I've the location of cold beer!"

The door of the trailer whipped open and all the beer in the world didn't compare one freaking bit to what I freaking saw.

"Don't toy with my heart, Gillies," Chris shook his head as he jumped out and shut the door behind him.

His eyes caught mine and I went on auto-pilot. Smart auto-pilot. Genius. Well, I still couldn't move, but I titled my head and offered, "I can show you where the stand is."

"Sure," Chris smiled. "Lead the way. I'm dying for a cold one."

I tried with all my might to not have a demented look on my face as I led Ben and Chris around the edge of the mass of people so we could get to the stand faster and, selfishly, so others would have less of a chance recognizing them. Okay. Recognizing Chris. A whole swarm of fangirls could whisk Ben away and I wouldn't even care.

I knew it was only my imagination, but I could feel their eyes on me. The sun felt even hotter on my back.

"Here it is," I waved my hand at the stand behind me and set my hands on my hips as if I had brought them to the promised land.

"Thank you."

Chris took out his wallet and paused before getting in line.

"Can I get you anything?"

Wait---what?

"Can I get you anything?"

I nodded. "Honey wheat," was all I said.

"Alrighty," he spun around and got in line with Ben.

I wanted to dig a hole in the ground and not resurface from it until the weekend was over. I waited for what felt like an eternity. I even thought they had forgotten about me and was about to walk away and told myself I was lucky just to lay my eyes on them and speak with Chris when they reappeared with beer and huge smiles on their tan faces.

"I'm gonna head back to the trailer," Ben popped his sunglasses on with one hand and walked back the way we came.

"I saw the guy pouring the honey wheat and I had to try it." Chris handed me a large plastic cup with condensation quickly dotting the outside of it.

I knew he was speaking to me, but the beer and Chris Joannou, together, was too unreal.

"It's good," he nodded and squinted his eyes.

Great. Fabulous. He wants to have a conversation with me and I can't even function.

Control. Alt. Delete!

"Are you alright?"

I sipped on my beer in hopes it would revive me and it did. I nodded.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" he asked.

I took another sip and my words found their way back to my vocal chords.

"Are you? We're in Germany. I don't think they care here."

He grinned. "You may be right. What's your name?"

I did not expect the quiet one of the band to be so forward. I figured he was charming and playful, but was he like this with all the girls? What was that expression? It's the quiet one you gotta look out for. The beer was making my insides fluffy. Oh, please, please, may Chris flirt with me. I won't ask for anything else in life, ever.

"Sofia. Let me guess, your name is Chris?"

He laughed and my stomach did flips like a freaking cheerleader that had one too many Diet Cokes. Someone help me, please.

The next hour or so is wiped from my memory. My wires crossed and the only way I could carry on a conversation with him was to cast my soul up into the clouds. I returned to my body eventually. All I know is that I walked around the festival grounds with Chris until he brought me to a V.I.P. tent. As welcoming as it looked, with free beer and other drinks inside of it and more attractive people than I ever could have imagined existing in one small area at the same time, I declined his invitation. I know. Must've been the sun. Or self-sabotage.

I waved good-bye to him and headed towards where the Spanish girls were and thought about asking them if they wanted to check out a more mellow band with me---when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I knew it was the hand of Buff the Bass Slayer.

Doesn't everyone call him that?

"Sofia," he said my name so gently I barely heard him.

He had two bottled beers in one hand and a plate of food stacked high balanced on his other. A dude bringing me food. Had I died and gone to heaven? I quit wasting time and took the plate of food from him.

"Uh, thanks," he blew some air through his lips. "It's hotter than the tip of a shark's tooth."

Who says that? Chris Joannou, apparently.

I spotted this random empty table next to a tree. A really scrawny one. Providing zero shade. Just our luck. But we sat there anyway and drank our beers and ate the array of posh snacks he gathered for us.

"So is this what it takes to spend time with you?"

It was my turn to laugh. "Pretty much."

His eyes flitted over my face as I laughed and shrugged. I don't know how, but I started to feel comfortable around this dream boy of mine. He felt very real after more beer and food. Like most things.

"Your whole face comes alive when you laugh."

Whoa. Thick layer of flirt here. Am I in danger? Nah. No one that brings you free beer and food is dangerous. Lonely, maybe.

I cleared my throat and felt it was best that I leave and find those Spanish girls to chill with. I know what you're thinking! Sofia, stay put! It's Chris Joannou. Really, really. Let's think logically. Was he going to marry me? Probably not. He wanted something from me. I could sense it. And it wasn't to drink more beer and eat soft cheese and artisanal bread with me under the Berlin sun, okay? I was burned by boys plenty of times to know that much.

I proceeded with my second attempt at a good-bye, yet when I turned away his hand gripped my fingers. His touch was so impatient and impulsive that it hugged my heart and cradled a part of me I didn't even know was longing for it. Now or never, baby.

I took my hands and placed them on Buff's shoulders. We looked into each other's eyes. A breeze whipped around us and some delicate leaves rustled above our heads. I rose up on my tippy toes and kissed him. His lips were warm against mine and eager, but he was trying his best to behave. I've got to hand it to him. Buff wasn't just a talented and spirited bass player. He was a talented and spirited kisser, too. By the time our lips were done with their little freak show, we pulled away. The sun, beers, food and tongues were making our heads spin.

He let out a small nervous laugh. "I'm almost afraid to ask this--"

"Out with it, Buff."

"What?"

"Huh? Out with it, Chris. I said Chris."

"Okay," he squinted his eyes cheekily and continued. "Would you like to come to our trailer and play some video games? We don't have anywhere to be tomorrow."

Could he be anymore romantic?

"Lead the way."

We held hands as we shoved past the crowds. The sun was just starting to relax into the early evening, casting bursts of orange and yellow across the sky. I thought he would let go, but he never did. 

☀️🍻💋

Ugh. Beers. Babes. Is there more to life?

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May the 'chair be with you.