Won't Amount to Much

I was seated with Mara inside of a small waiting room. We were being interviewed today for a chance to help Black Veil Brides on their tour. I was wearing my favorite black skinny jeans, along with a nice black and white top I had borrowed from Mara that she had accidentally bought a size to big. I had the front of my hair pinned out of my face, along with some simple eyeliner.

“Mara Mitchell?” called a large man in a suit from the door next to the receptionists desk. She calmly stood up, shouldering her silver handbag.

“Good luck,” I whispered as she passed by me.

“Thanks,”I barely hear her murmur before she's behind the office door.

I quietly hum “I Don't Love You” by My Chemical Romance as the minutes tick by, and before I know, Mara is coming back into the waiting room and the man is calling my name.

“Darlene Collins?” I slowly stand up, and sink my nails into the palms of my hand. I take a long breath, and as I exhale I release my nails from my hand and follow the man to the office.

~*~*~

I was in the waiting room with Mara again while the last person was being interviewed. Honestly, after I had been through it though, it seemed more like an interrogation. The man, who introduced himself as Mr. Matthews, had asked a few very personal questions. And he asked them all in a way that made him seem as if he was without a personality. Regardless, I bared through the interview.

Just when I thought the last of the interviews were going to last forever. The boy, I think his name had been something along the lines of Josh, came out of the room with a sad expression.

“Alright everyone, quiet down,” said Mr. Matthews as he assumed a position in the middle of the waiting lobby, even though nobody had been saying a word, “I will hand you each a letter that will tell you whether or not you have been accepted for the job. There are only three positions, and five of you. So, after I hand out these envelopes, if you are accepted, follow the instructions for details,” and with that, Mr. Matthews begins to hand out the envelopes. The first one is handed to Josh, then Mara, then me, but after that, I don't care of the order. After I receive my envelope, I shove it into my bag. I don't want to open it until I reach the car.

“Let's go,” says Mara, not opening her letter either.

“'Kay,” I say, heading to the car a few steps ahead of her. I'm maybe fifteen feet from the parking lot before I feel someone tug me backwards. I immediately stiffen and tug away. I look back to see Mara.

“Sorry, but just come here,” she says motioning for the women's restroom. I follow her in, figuring maybe she had forgotten something that was essential at this time of the month, but instead she says, “Get your letter!”

I figure now is as good a time as any and fish my letter out of my bag.

“I can't read mine. Switch?” she asks, with a nod of my head, we hand each other our letters. “On the count of three. One... Two... THREE!” she says and we are both ripping into our envelopes. I meticulously pull off the tape that holds the envelope closed, while Mara rips mine open, having no regard for the tape.

She is already reading my letter aloud before I even have hers open. “Dear interviewee, we are glad to inform you that you have been selected to assist the band, Black Veil Brides on their Warped Tour this summer!” Mara reads, practically screaming the last few words.

“Dear interviewee,” I begin clearly in a paced tone, but Mara doesn't have enough patience. She rips the letter from my hand and reads it herself.

“I was accepted!” she says excitedly!

“Yay!” I say as I give her a hug. She clutches me tighter.

“'Kay, let's go, we need to spread the good news!” she says as we walk out of the restroom.

We both get in the car and head on home. As we were driving down the road, I called the number on the paper to get more details. As my conversation with the person on the other end of the line came to a close, Mara pulled up to a stop light.

“Thank you, the rest of the details and list of things you need will be sent to your and Miss Mitchell's email. Have a nice day!” said the overly perky lady.

I looked to the silver truck that pulled up to the left of us at the light and recognized the passenger immediately. It was a face I could never forget, and for some reason I had a feeling that the lady on the other end of the line wasn't right about the “have a good day” part. “You too,” I say before qickly hanging up and leaning back in my seat. “Mara, turn right. Now.”

“What? Why?” she asks

“It's him.”

“You mean him him?”

“Yes! Now just turn!” I say. She doesn't even question my motives as she quickly puts the car in gear and turns, speeding down the street. I might be a speeder, but I can't hold a flame to Mara when she speeds. Given her speed, we arrive home five minutes faster then we normally would have. We walk inside to see my mom. Her face looks ashen as she asks me to take a seat in the living room.

“Honey. You received a call. You see, when a person has been in jail for a crime, the victim of that crime receives a call when they are released.”

I take a deep breath, already knowing the words that are about to come from my mother's mouth.

“Honey, Blake is out,” with those three words, all my worst fears are alive once again.

Notes

Dundundunnnn! Who is Blake? You'll have to read the next chapter to find out.
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