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Some Groupie

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Maybe you’re not supposed to know the meaning of everything. Mysteries are a part of human nature. I know things happen for a reason. Some look at it as God’s little creatures interacting with the other restless clumps of bodies. The stars determine the personality of each individual. Were the stars trying to tell me something on October 11th?


It’s scary growing up, not knowing where life will take me. It’s even scarier coming home to a sink overflowing with every dish in the apartment. I guess you’d expect that from a roommate whose only thoughts are directed towards banging sticks on any object in sight. I can’t say that I don’t love our apartment though. There’s not a place on the wall that is blank. Every square inch is covered in posters and photographs. Many of these pictures were of my one true love, Brooke, plastered throughout the cramped room. She was my guitar.
My drummer roommate, Blake Anderson, and I have been close ever since third grade. Good times we had back then: playing capture the flag and spitting on the cute girls…those were the days. Now, Blake and I play in a rock band called Right Next To The Garage Band. We’re definitely going places. Well, we’ve had a few gigs, but don’t worry, one day The Beatles will have our faces on their wall. Really, the only place we’ve played at is the coffee shop down the block called Sleep & Drink. The manager is super chill, Blake used to work with her at Subs R’ Us a few years back.
Every Friday, our cool kids’ band meets up to play at Sleep & Drink. The shop was stuck between a terrible pawn shop and an appalling book store. The outside looked severely beaten, but it had a nice, homey feel to it. From the outside, the building seemed very petite and narrow, but surprisingly it was pretty spacey inside.
It seemed like another normal, rock-tastic Friday, well as normal as anything really gets in a small city in Washington. The streets weren’t too crowded, the birds pooped right above me as usual- nothing new. This normal day, however, would end up changing my life, no exaggeration. Okay, a bit of an exaggeration, but don’t worry about it.
We got there and met Jake and Pierre around 6 p.m. like we always did. Jake was our vocalist, and Pierre was our bass guitarist. We set up on stage like we always did, and then ordered a round of energy drinks. I was in the middle of finishing my can, when Kristi, the manager, approached me.
“I found this on one of the tables late last night. It’s for you.” She was holding a folded up piece of notebook paper.
“What? What does it say?” I said curiously.
“Read it.” She handed me the slip while she walked behind me to wipe down a muffin crumb-infested table. So I read the note. The note said:
Damien,
This is the only way I could say this:
I can’t stop thinking about you.

-The Unknown Admirer





“What? Who is this?” I whispered worriedly. I wondered in my mind if Kristi had already read this. I stood with a puzzled look on my face with my mouth slightly open.
Kristi took the damp, crumby towel and slipped it in her back pocket as she asked me if I was alright. After a slightly dragged out moment of silence, I managed to let out a panicked question, “Who is this? Do you know who left this?”
“No, I just found it sitting there. Awe, I think it’s really sweet and romantic.”
I couldn’t help but to blush, that always gave me away.
I really wanted to find out who this was. Although my “fame” did get me a lot of dates, I never really found romance. Okay, I haven’t been on too many dates, I’ve never really even had a serious relationship. It just doesn’t seem like I get along well, on that level, with people, especially pretty girls. I’m hopeless. Maybe this is the one. No, it’s probably nothing, or some crazy stalker chick. Or even worse, a stalker dude. I was not going to stand still and do nothing about it, that‘s all I knew.


When Blake and I got back to our place, he quickly asked me, “So what were you freaking out about with Kristi?”
I had been thinking about it the entire time we were performing and driving back home. I showed him the note, and he started laughing with that annoying chuckle of his. I knew he wouldn’t understand, he wasn’t as sensitive and literate as I was, pretty much, no one was, which doesn‘t seem like a good thing these days. I grabbed it out of his hands after he had slapped it on his thighs and burst out laughing a couple times.
“Whatever. It’s nothing. Let’s just go and play some Rockband.”
“Alright dude. Oh man, oh man. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed harder,” replied Blake.
“Hey, how ‘bout we call up the gang and go to a drive-in?” Blake suggested.
“Yeah man, that’d be sick.” I was pretty pumped now. “I’ve never been to a drive-in movie.”
Maybe Beatrice would even be there. I’ve always liked her, I’ve just never had the guts to say anything to her. She was absolutely perfect. Her dark, long brown hair made her bright green eyes glisten in the light. I don’t know if she applied blush on everyday, but she always seemed to have the rosiest cheeks.
“Oh wait, everyone’s at Joey’s show, down at Bill’s Club.” Blake stated after he had put on his new, black DC shirt.
“Oh then let’s go. Let’s head out right now. When did it start?”
“Like ten minutes ago.”
“Alright, that’s not too bad.”
I grabbed the keys and put my black Vans back on and headed out the door.
So it turned out, no one was there, what a bummer. We still stayed to watch a few really bad comedians make complete fools out of themselves. While trying to not pay attention to the terrible jokes going on onstage, I started dazing out like I do about half of my day. Looking back on my week, I started getting insightful thoughts in my head about this mystery person. I whispered to Blake “This person has to be watching me. Well, while we perform at least. ”
“What person”
“The Unknown Admirer.”
“Oh God, not this again, D.”
“Aren’t you supportive.”
“Alright man, alright. I’ll help, whatever that means.”
“Thanks dude. Well, the only way I can find out more information is to leave them a note secretly on a table, but how? If I leave one randomly on a table, then some stranger could pick it up and do who-knows-what with it. Wait, I got it! I could have a sign on the window saying “Secret note for The Unknown Poet Inside,” and if they are smart enough, they would find it hidden in the coffee shop.”
“Uh, Damien, I’m speechless. I’ve never heard you sound this crazy before, congrats.”
“Thanks Blake, you’ve always got my back.”
At least I thought it was an excellent idea. I really hope it works.

I grabbed my lyric notebook and tore out a piece of lined paper from there. Furiously, I searched for a pen that actually worked and jumped on the couch. I started my escapade of questions. I had asked:



How do I know you?



Why are you doing this to me?



And of course, who the hell are you?
I folded it and taped it underneath the tabletop of the table they had left their note on the previous Thursday. I assumed they would come in late Thursday or sometime on Friday, because that is around the time they had left theirs. I had spent the entire day, Saturday, listening to music, eating, and reading some magazines at Sleep & Drink.

The next morning, I hurriedly ran to Sleep & Drink to ask Kristi if she had anything for me. Nothing.
“Sorry kid,” she said sympathizing with me.
I disappointingly sighed and replied ”Oh, it’s cool.”
Tuesday, still no luck. Disappointment was rushing through my veins, but I still had hope.
Wednesday, the sun was luminously shining upon me with every step I took. I pranced in there, and to my surprise, Kristi had the largest grin on her face.
“I have something for you,” said Kristi as she quickly ran behind the bar counter, and appeared again with a small piece of paper in her hand.
“Is it really?” I anxiously asked. Then I realized I was being too excited for a tiny piece of paper, so I nonchalantly took it from her tough, overworked hand.
“So I’m guessing you didn’t come in here to spend your day with me?” Kristi teased.
“Oh, you know I love spending every moment with you, Kristi. How could you even ask such a question?” I said sarcastically, hoping she didn’t slap me in the face.
She laughed then kicked me out of the shop. I couldn’t believe I had this note in my very own hands. I was incredibly nervous to read it. I went back to my apartment before I read it.
As usual, I lost my keys and searched for probably four minutes to find them. Once again they were in my back, left pocket, I don’t understand how they end up there. I walked in, threw my shoes off to the corner, sat down on the couch and prepared myself. Deep breathe in, and then out. Two breathes later; my hands trembled as I unfolded the paper and started reading.


Damien my dearest,


We attended high school together. I am in your graduating class.


The purpose for this is to be able to show some reason into




your life while all the while staying hidden. I know you are afraid



to be yourself.



Without the unexplained and mysteries, life would be




boring, would it not?


I will not say who I am for then there would be no point for



me being unknown and masked, now would there?
“Okay, I’m officially being stalked. Awesome” I said to myself. I paced around the room without much concern for things in my path. Blake apparently thinks that the floor is a resting place for ALL of his things. It’s called tables or drawers, maybe?
If they don’t want to tell me who they are, why should I care? I can’t help wanting to know, though. What if it’s Beatrice? Our love could finally come into the open and we could live happily ever after. That would be just phenomenal, what are the odds of that though? Oh god, what if it’s Lisa Maulk? She constantly whispered random, stupid comments in my ear in history class back in high school. Or what about Angela N-something? Well, I’m going to have to get more info, I’m going to have to play this little sneak’s game and write back. I hope they're getting pleasure out of this.
So I wrote:


Is this Lisa Maulk?

Two months later, after I had lost faith in this person, hope come around. I had stumbled along an envelope in my mailbox addressed to me. I opened the envelope which revealed a note.
Its weird how in the beginning of all this, I had such an urge to find out who this person was, almost like that would fill the whole in my heart. I learned that you have to bring the change you want in your life. In these two months, I had completely forgotten about The Unknown Admirer, and finally had the b**** to talk to Beatrice. Our twelfth date, we went to a comedy show. When it was over, we walked outside into the dark, cold street, when she turned to me and doubtfully said, “Hey D, I kind of have to tell you something.”
“Uh…it’s not bad, is it? Cuz then I don’t want to know?”
“No, no, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s…oh forget it.”
“Um, okay.”
Usually, like every other functioning person, I wanted to know what she was trying to tell me, but I had a feeling of what it was. Instead, I grabbed her and just gave her a kiss.





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