Passing college is a difficult task on its own, but imagine what it's like when your final grade rests in the hands of the worlds' favorite rock-star.
As graduation from her local community college approaches, Reese Taylors yearns for some answers...
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Lennon and I manage to make it to the stage with two minutes to spare, and he's immediately whisked away to prepare for his meet and greet. I meet up with Maia, Kacey, Nick, and Harrison, the latter of the bunch steps closer to me.
"How was the ride?" he asks smoothly, pushing a strand of black hair over his forehead.
"It'll be a miracle if I can get out of bed in the morning."
He grins. "I know the best masseuse in all of L.A. if you're interested."
Instead of kindly declining his offer that I'm about ninety percent sure he's talking about himself rather than a professional masseuse, I launch into the tale of the last time I got a massage. I had just gotten over a cold, having lost my voice and was unable to let the masseuse know that the hot rocks were indeed too hot.
Quite a mood killer, if you ask me.
He doesn't push the conversation further.
The stage is located in the back of the park, overlooking the tall thrill rides and the Ferris Wheel I didn't get the option to ride. Maybe I can sneak out during the show?
After getting their two-hundred dollar photograph with their favorite band, fans start to trickle in, claiming their spots against the barrier. Unlike their L.A. show, there's a gap between the fans and the stage, allowing room for security guards to stand by and less room for fans to grab their favorite's ankles onstage or get their fingers smashed.
"We need to head down if we want a good spot," Nick says as he peers over the crowd from behind the curtain.
Kacey brushes him off. "We have Maia Keyes. Those fans will let us stand wherever we want." She checks the time on her Apple watch. "I want a picture before we go."
I resist an eye roll at her privileged mentality. Those fans paid an arm and a leg to be standing where they are, let them have their spot.
Presley sprints toward us, a hand covering her mouth as she tugs on Maia's arm. "Do you have any gum?" She's trying to remain secret but is too urgent to get the message across.
Maia's face is stricken with pain. "Oh, shit. No. I forgot. Can't you just brush real quick?"
"Not when Logan knocked mine into the toilet on the ride over here." she says through gritted teeth. "Do you have a mint or anything? Unless you want Lennon repeating what I just did all over the front row."
"I have a mint," I tell her, reaching into my drawstring bag I carried with me. Pulling open my zip-lock bag filled with lifesavers, I hand her one. She greedily accepts it, tossing the small mint into her mouth and I catch a whiff of her breath. I resist the urge to gag, "did you just throw up?"
