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A fantasy
I waited outside of the bus for a little over half on hour. I was cozy and comfortable in Pete's lap, my head on his shoulder, my hands in his hair. We talked about the concert, about guitars, about drunk people, and imagined that he would one day be the one on stage. I warned him, with a laugh, that I'd run out and tackle him in the middle of one of his songs. Yes, he is that damn sexy.
The other fans came and left, flowing like the tide, their patience allowing them either to grasp hold and wait for their star to come or making them stumble away with curses and backward glances when he did not appear on command.
And then there he was, tired, tall, smiling. John Mayer, the sweetheart of college students everywhere, finally made his appearence.
The other fans came and left, flowing like the tide, their patience allowing them either to grasp hold and wait for their star to come or making them stumble away with curses and backward glances when he did not appear on command.
And then there he was, tired, tall, smiling. John Mayer, the sweetheart of college students everywhere, finally made his appearence.