***Since I've been on Vingle I have mostly just commented on things other people post and I feel awkward not really contributing anything to the community. That's why I wanted to do something to contribute to the fun here. I don't write fanfic but I thought I could try something a little different for you: a story about concert-going. It is a little gift for the people looking forward to EXO concerts and for the people (like me) who won't be making it to any. If anyone actually enjoys what I have so far I'll keep going with it. Enjoy!***
A small scream escaped my lips as my phone dropped from my hand, softly landing unharmed on my bed. My second though was, to be thankful that the text arrived while I was next to a soft surface. My first thought was that I must be hallucinating. I slid down onto the floor and grabbed my phone from the bed. No, I was definitely not hallucinating. There was definitely a pair of EXO tickets in the photo. My best friend was holding them just below her smug, wicked grin. As soon as I could stop shaking with excitement, I called her.
“Cassie, you told me that you couldn’t get tickets! You said that your internet went down and they sold out before you were able to get back online! Why?! Why did you do that to me?”
“You made me take off work to buy those tickets since you couldn’t miss your Grandma’s birthday party, remember? I was annoyed. Besides, isn’t it more fun this way? Wasn’t it a good surprise?”
“So you booked a room, right? I’ll have to pay you back for the hotel. That was the deal, you cover the tickets and I cover the hotel. Oh, goodness, the concert is in 3 days, I have to choose an outfit and I have to pack and”
“UH OH! Um… Beth? I forgot about the hotel. I didn’t book anything. After I snagged the tickets I was too excited and didn’t even think about that. Well, I guess you can book now since you know about the tickets.”
“Right, okay. No problem. I’ll do it now and text you back once I have it settled. I can’t believe it! We’re going to see EXO!”
I stood up and walked over to my small, chaotically cluttered Ikea desk, a sharp contrast to the rest of my neat, minimalist bedroom. Shoving aside a small pile of half-finished sketches, I opened my laptop and sat down. “So, what do I want? Close to the venue, inexpensive, free parking, late check-out,” I thought out loud. Finding a hotel meeting those criteria turned out to be a bit of a challenge. Actually, it turned out to be an impossibility. There were no $49 rooms; no $99 rooms; no $149 rooms. There were no rooms at all. What if I couldn’t find a room anywhere near the venue? What if those wonderful, glorious tickets would go to waste all for want of a place to sleep? No. That can’t happen. I searched again. This time a room did come up, and at a hotel within walking distance of the venue! I looked at the price and froze: $250/night. I groaned. “It can’t be helped,” sighed. I booked the room and whispered “I’m sorry” to my credit card, squeezing it tightly in sympathy before shoving it back into my wallet. I hoped I wouldn’t need to buy anything for the next month. I could live on pasta and frozen peas, for that long, right?
I texted Cassie to let her know that I’d booked for the night before the show and the night of the show before collapsing on my bed and staring at the ceiling for a while, enjoying the anticipation of what was sure to be an adventure.