Ransom(46)
The surreal feeling is replaced with confusion.
“Uh, no,” Paige says quickly, obviously a little freaked out. “We were playing a… what’d you call it?”
“RPG?”
“Yeah, that. But we’re not on a website. We kinda, like, do our own thing.”
“Yup, we’re independent role players,” Karen says.
“Oh.” The girl looks disappointed. “Okay. That just sounds like a really good scenario.” She turns to me, intensity clear all over her face. “If I was playing a character that Daltrey had feelings for, I would like, totally tell him how I feel.”
I have literally no idea what this girl is talking about, so I simply smile and nod. She gives us a little wave and walks off, leaving us in bewildered silence.
“Um,” Karen says after a beat, “what the fuck was that?”
Paige has already pulled out her phone and is opening a search browser. “I used to date a guy who did RPG stuff, but it was like, Dungeons and Dragons, that kind of thing. What would that have to do with Ransom?” A moment later, she gasps and holds the phone out to me and Karen. “You have to see this!”
I peer down at the screen, which shows the Heartbreakers site.
Karen grabs the phone. “Holy crap! They go online and pretend to be the boys. Like, they act out all these story lines and scenarios. Do you think the guys know about this?” She clicks around on the site for a minute. “Ew, ew, ew! This one is about Daltrey and Cash being, like, in love with each other!”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it. Of all the things that have happened since my friends became famous, this is by far the most bizarre. The girls click around on the website, laughing and reading out the wilder entries.
“Excuse me, where did you get that hat?” Another girl, this one several years older than us, is glaring at us.
“Excuse me?” Paige asks.
“Your hat. Where did you get it? Because it’s not the hat they sold on tour last winter. And it’s definitely not the hat that came out in the exclusive fan club membership pack. I want to know where you got it.”
Paige looks over at me, wide eyed, but Karen says bluntly, “It’s none of your business. Goodbye.”
The girl doesn’t budge. “I’ve never seen you guys before. Is this your first show?”
“Again, none of your business.” Karen’s voice is sharper now. “Would you mind leaving us alone?”
The girl takes a step closer. “You’re clearly new. If you’re going to be around, you should learn to be more respectful of the true fans.” Her eyes flick up and down our blankets. “I bet you’re not even in the fan club.”
“Dude, what is your problem?” Karen asks, moving to stand up.
Paige puts a hand on her arm. “Get the hell out of here.”
The girl gives us one last glare before stalking off.
“What the hell?” Paige asks. “Is it bat-shit insane day, and we missed the memo?”
I remember what Levi told me and suddenly start giggling.
“What?” Karen asks.
“Levi warned me that some of the fans who wait all day are a little… colorful.”
“Yeah, well, that makes sense,” Karen mutters. “You’d have to be crazy to sit out here all day.”
We play cards for a while until the mist turns into flat-out rain. Even with a blanket and two hoodies, I’m still freezing. The idea of retreating to the bus is sounding better and better by the minute.
Paige is adamant, though, that we keep our place in line. “We’ve sat here all day. We’ve endured not one but two psychopaths to keep this spot. We’ve earned this spot.”
In the end, it’s not Karen or me or even the weather that convinces her. She reaches her breaking point around three p.m. when a girl walks past in a denim jacket. Paige gapes after her retreating back. “Is that… tell me that’s not an embroidered portrait of Cash on the back of that girl’s jean jacket.”
I laugh at the horror on her face, but Karen grins gleefully. “It’s not. It’s a bedazzled, embroidered portrait of Cash on the back of that girl’s jean jacket.”
Paige stands up. “That’s it,” she says, gathering up her blanket. “Call Levi. I’m out.”
“Seriously?” I ask, relief rushing through me at the thought of the warm dressing room.
“Dead serious. I can handle a lot of things, but I cannot handle that.” She starts shoving things into her bag, muttering about crimes against fashion.
Karen and I smile at each other over her head as I pull out my phone.