~Just Pitchy~

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Riley and I met up around 7 so we would have pa-lenty of time before the gig at 10. She congratulated me first thing for getting a personal invite to the gig by one of the band members themselves, and secondly, for solving the mystery of my secret admirer. Riley decided to wear this pretty black dress and a weird fluffy shrug over that could possibly be made of polar bear. I stuck with a simple band t-shirt and light blue ripped jeans, not really planning on jazzing or pizazzing up for a little concert. It's going to be dark in there anyways.

"Really, Bayley. We have three hours to spare, and you're already ready? You didn't even brush through your hair!" Riley scolded me, pulling a flowery makeup bag out of her purse. I shrug, tossing it over my shoulder. Their's not much I can do- it's too long to put up, too much of a hassle to curl, and it's got a mind of its own anyhow. Nothing I do to it would last a whole hour- I've let it go undisciplined for too long, it's surpassed the point of no return. Bummer.

"Okay, give me the next hour to get ready, and then it's your turn," Riley announced to me, making it official without my consent. I groan, my fingers getting stuck when I try to run them through my hair.

"I'll be in the kitchen," I told Riley, stepping out of the beauty parlor and into my kind of scene.

An hour passed by too quickly, and I was parted from my potato chips before I could finish off the bag. Now there's a tradgedy not even Shakespeare could capture. Against my wishes, Riley used her girly skills do some sort of transformation magic on me. She brushed my hair (A miracle itself) and curled it to give it a soft beachy wave look.

After that portion was done, we moved on to makeup, and every time she did the eyeliner, it felt like she was giving me an eye tattoo. I didn't want to put up a fight, but I did complain here and there. All of the mascara coats Riley insisted upon actually weighed down my eyelids. Besides that, she picked some pretty bold, dark colors to smear over my eyelids, the sort of palette they use in horror movies. Atleast Riley is enjoying this. That makes one of us.

"Aaaand there. I believe I'm finished," She took a step back to get a better view of me, "Oh... you have got to see this." Do I want to? With all the crap you put on me, I'd be surprised if I even recognized myself. I exited my bedroom and steadily moved toward the bathroom. The much anticipated final look. This is too nerve-wracking.

I closed my eyes, turned into the mirror, and drew in some long, comforting breaths. Lets see, what weird sound effect can I say when I take a look at this. How about... Bajooga.

"Bajooga!" I popped open my eyes, coming face to face with my reflection. Wow. Impressive renovations, Riley. I could tell it was still me, but daaaang, not the version of me I'm used to. My wavy hair looked cool in contrast with the black band t-shirt I was wearing, and the dark brown eyeshadow and black eyeliner around my eyes made the green color of my irises pop dramatically.

"What did you say?" Riley called out from the other room. I took one last lingering look in the mirror, and skipped back to my room, happy to have endured the last hour and a half for this. It was worth it.

"I said that I will never doubt you and your gift again. And feel free to attack me with your multi-sized brushes anytime of the day." Riley beamed, especially glad to hear that. I was surprised to hear it come out of my mouth all the same. Definitely something a Bayley-type character woudn't say unless she really meant it. I checked the time out of curiosity.

"Well, what do we want to do for the next hour? I heard it takes around 20 minutes to get there, so what should we do for the next forty minutes to kill time?" I asked her. Riley shook her head, her expression suddenly shifting from proud to secretive.

"We have to go early. I'll explain on the way," Riley told me, getting her large bag and walking out of the room. Just what is she bringing in that Godzilla bag of hers? There's only one way to find out.

I followed her out to the car and got in, becoming excited to be let in on this classified information. Please please please be another prank. I'm not quite done yet, and the taste of revenge sounds delicious right now. I opened my mouth to start bombarding her with questions. Before I could say anything, she shushed me, raking through the items in her bag. I crossed my arms.

"This," Riley got her hands on what she was searching for, and began pulling it out of the bag, "Is what dreams are made of." She held in her very hands, wait for it.... a microphone!!!!! I stared at it for a bit, going through possibilities of how this could hurt/prank Jaxon in any way. Maybe we could smack him with it....? That's all I've got.

"So, uh, what exactly..." I scratched my head, "Are we going to do with that?" Riley sighed, taking the cord out and wrapping it around the mic before whipping out a mini sound controller.

"Wait and see, Bayley, just wait and see."

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The place was packed. It was a pretty decent sized room, and the stage was right there, with all of the instruments and mics already set up. People stood in little clusters, most of them drawn towards the back where Jaxon and his bandmates were hanging out. I was glad for the diversion; it took nearly all the attention off the stage. For now.

"See those stairs? Climb those, keep your face low, and run up on stage and switch them out. Plug in this one and take the other one with you," Riley told me in a hushed voice.

"How come I have to do all the dirty work?" I complained, nervous to be caught. I am never very lucky when it came to these things.

"You got this Bayley. I'll be down here to create a distraction if things go wrong," Riley assured me. She prompted me forward, and I gulped, starting in the direction of the stairs. Being the coward I am, I came rushing back.

"What if it doesn't work?"

"Trust me, It'll work. I borrowed the mic from a friend, and her dads owns a recording studio. The replacement microphone will still plug into the sound system, but it won't be able to be controlled by the DJ in the back because it only hooks up to this bad boy," Riley explained for the millionth time, waving the little device in my face, "Now go before it's too late!"

She pushed me forward, and I ducked down so that I would blend in more with the black staircase. I crept up the couple of steps and took cover behind the curtain. The stage was dim, fortunately, and as it appeared, the main microphone was merely a couple feet away. Okay, just run and switch them out. Be fast so nobody notices. Don't overthink this.

I peeked out of the curtain at Riley, who was giving me the go signal. I scanned the crowd first, who mostly had their backs to me. Nobody was looking. It was the perfect time.

In a rush, I ran and ripped the plug out of the microphone. Then I took the look alike Riley supplied me and plugged that one in, carefully setting it into place. It made a weird clipped frequency buzz when it was unplugged, and I panicked, looking up to make sure nobody saw. Nope. Once I had retrieved the real microphone and properly placed the dud, I dashed back into the darkness and flew down the stairs. Riley was patiently waiting for me, and we both walked towards the crowd afterwards, in effort to blend in.

"Well done agent Davis," Riley whispered into my ear. I gave her a sly smile and nodded, slipping the mic into her purse.

For the next half hour, we wandered around the concert building, chatting with strangers and ordering some french fries at the little food booth. When we came back to the main area, the band was already up on stage making last minute arrangements.

We weaved through the crowd and had to shove our way to the front, which made the other people not too happy with us. From our perspective, they were going to be playing directly above us, where we could nearly reach out and touch them. Jaxon turned on the mic and didn't bother doing a sound check since they already got that taken care of (Thanks the heavens).

"How's everyone doing tonight," Austen asked into his microphone. We all started cheering, the usual response to that question. He laughed and plugged in his electric guitar, strumming once and letting the sound fade into the crowd. Jaxon spoke into his mic, and Riley gripped the device in her hand, ready to do some serious damage when the time was right.

"Allll riiight. First, I want to thank you all for coming out tonight. It means a lot that you would come and support us. But more importantly, you guys ready to roooock?" The girl next to me screamed at the top of her lungs, and everyone around her joined in. I whistled, and it rang out with the rest of the screams. Jaxon put his own guitar on and grabbed hold of the mic.

"This first song we'll be playing is an original, and it's called Same Old Day Same Old Way.... One, Two, Three!" The drums start pounding, and the guitars come in strong, making an epic intro. The lights start flashing, and we all went silent. Jaxon gripped the edge of the mic.

"She calls me up, wondering where I've been. I find my tolerance is wearing thin," He sings. I remember hearing them practice this song, but the tune is a little bit different now that they've made some adjustments. Jaxon pulls away to jam out with his guitar. As he continues the verse, his voice deep and utterly flawless, I bump Riley a couple times. She shakes her head.

"A typical day with you, Allow me to give you a clue. I'm sick of your constant obsession, Caught waiting for a love confession..." The chorus is so catchy that everyone tries to sing along, even if they don't know the words.

"How do I put this lightly, what I mean to say, is I'm done, so done, with the same old day same old way. Hey!" They jam into the next verse, and live, the song sounds better than half of the stuff I hear on the radio. But before I can get lost in the song, I look back to Riley one more time. She smiles and nods. It's time.

I watch her turn the dial on the device, changing the pitch, and it immediately affects the mic. The normally low verse spikes, and his voice is altered to an almost chipmunk sound. Jaxon crinkles his eyebrows, probably wondering if he's hearing it right. But even with the trouble, he continues the song. The audience's cheering is dying, wondering what's going on.

The chorus starts, and she hands the device to me, letting me take over. I grin, keeping it out of sight and messing with the dial. His voice goes up and down like a rollercoaster, and then back up to the highest pitch. The crowd starts to laugh a little, acknowledging how stupid it sounds. Jaxon glanced up at the DJ in the back, throwing a hand in the air.

He transitions into the bridge, and it's higher than Justin Bieber on helium. I giggle, unable to hold it back anymore. Me and Riley hung onto each other, hunched over with laughter. The audience all started to crack up, and Jaxon cuts the band off.

"Hold it," He stepped back from the mic and tried to silence the uncontrollable crowd, "We're having some technical difficulties. Just, uh, give us a second." He took the screwy mic in his hand and inspected it carefully. Payback has been fulfilled, in my opinion. I'm not looking to ruin the entire night, even if that's what he deserves.

"I think we should give it back now. What do you think?" I asked Riley. She nodded, giving me the original mic and taking the device from me. I hesitantly jogged up the stairs. Hopefully Jaxon has enough self-control not to strangle me when he finds out.

I stood at the edge of the stage awkwardly, unsure how to get their attention. I watch Jaxon run a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. The frustration is evident on every band members face, too concentrated on fixing the problem to notice my pssst-ing. Instead, I whistled, which grabbed Jaxon's attention instantly. He looked to the side, locking eyes with me.

"Think fast." I chucked the mic at him, and he caught it easily. After staring at me for a while, the reality of the situation settles in. An unexpected grin breaks across his face. The other band members follow his line of sight, and they look confusedly at Jaxon for an explanation. He shrugged, acting as if he doesn't have the slightest idea.

He unplugged the rigged mic and replaced it, doing a brief sound check. I leaned against the wall backstage, smiling to myself.

"Sorry about that guys. We shouldn't be having any more difficulty from now on," Then he looked at me, smirking, "Right?" I laughed and nodded.

"What do you say we finish the song?" Jaxon projected to the crowd. They cheer at that, and I can see all the confidence has returned. He starts the guitar into the bridge, and the band picked up where they left off.

Riley snuck up to where I was, and we spend the remainder of the concert watching from behind the scene. The band seemed so natural on stage; once they get more publicity, their concerts were guaranteed to sell out. They got the audience involved, and not one person in the room wasn't entertained. Several times during the songs, Jaxon would look over at me, smiling. I couldn't help but smile back. They were killing it up there, even with the "technical difficulties" in the beginning. Nothing was holding them back.

They ended the concert with a cover of "Gives You Hell" by The All American Rejects. Me and Riley rocked out backstage, flipping our hair and dancing like maniacs. The last note rang out, and the cheers from that relatively small crowd was deafening. They had all forgotten about the Chipmunk voice, that's for sure.

"This has been incredible. We love all your support," Austen told the audience from his mic, "Also, we're planning on releasing a debut album around summertime, so be sure to check that out and spread the word."

"Yes, please do. Before I continue, I gotta ask, Did everyone have a good time?" Jaxon said, his forehead glistening with sweat. The audience goes wild, especially the countless assembly of female admirers within the crowd.

"Great, great. We'll try to book another show then soon, and I hope to all see you there!" The band all waved and said their goodbyes, then walked off stage to where we were. I ushered Riley towards the stairs, hoping to escape before Jaxon can get to me. Someone grabbed my arm.

"Hey, hold it right there." I struggle to break free from his grasp. He looked at me, our faces only inches apart, and smirked.

"Don't go anywhere, okay?" Jaxon insisted.

"Okay, as long as you let go. You're all sweaty," I complained. He let go, but before I could walk away, Jaxon wraps his arms around me. I shrieked, being submerged in his sweatiness.

"Aahhh! Jaxon, you reek! Help!" He laughed into my ear, low and husky, and tightened his hold on me. After what feels like an everlasting wet embrace, he let go. I raced down the stairs, seeking some fresh air.

"I'll find you!" Jaxon called out behind me. I didn't bother looking back. Riley grabbed my arm and yanked me into the lady's restroom, demanding an explanation. I took a deep breath, confronting the fact that I'm in for an interesting night.


I'm terribly sorry that took so long for me to write, and update, and what not. With work and end of term and all that other crap that goes on in my eleventh grade life, I haven't been able to fit in writing. Please keep up with the story and continue voting, commenting, etc. I'll try to get in the regular habit of weekend updates since that's probably the only time I have. Tell me what you think!

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