Kenny and I were a team. While he did the hair, I did the makeup. We were working on a guy with very specific guidelines on what he needed to look like afterwards. The guy never said one word the entire time we worked, which was just a little unsettling to me. The next one was a girl who wouldn't stop talking long enough for me to put on lip gloss. Because of that, it smeared. She nearly flipped when she saw it, so I told her to wipe it off and keep her mouth still. She was a little irked but did as I asked.

Once she was gone and before the next cast member came, Kenny grinned at me. "Well, that's one way to get her to sit still," he said.

I shrugged. "Had to do it somehow." I returned his grin as the next person sat.

After about thirty minutes, we finished our initial jobs. All that was left was refreshing powder and a few minor adjustments to the girls as the show went on. The director and writer had spent an hour drilling the makeup changes into us before the cast started showing up.

The show progressed and, surprisingly enough, everything went smoothly. We were almost to the final act and the final touchups. A few minutes after we finished fixing up the cast for the next-to-final act, someone came up behind me and put their hands over my eyes. A masculine voice breathed into my ear, "Guess who."

I smiled and a name popped out: "George?"

The hands dropped. "Are you being serious right now?" Mario said, sounding just a bit annoyed. He took a few steps to face me. "Did you really think it could in any way be George? Does he even go to these kinds of shows?"

I shrugged. "No, but he was the first person that came to mind. Don't judge. He's technically already my boyfriend." Well, he wasn't the first person, but I didn't want to tell him it was a reflex. I was worried it might be and I didn't want to guess Mario when it possibly could have been George, no matter how small the chance.

Mario sighed and looked out towards the stage for a long moment. His face grew somber. He glanced at me before taking another breath and turning towards Kenny, who was standing nearby, watching. "I'm guessing you're Kenny," Mario said, trademark grin in place.

"You got it," Kenny said, returning the grin. "I guess that makes you Mr. Lopez."

"Mario."

"Right. Mario. I saw your picture online the other day."

"Oh, yeah? People need to stop putting those up there." He glanced at me. "So, how's things been?"

"Okay so far, I guess," Kenny answered. "I mean, could've been worse. Daisy already sassed someone over their lip gloss." He smirked at me. I rolled my eyes at him. "At least the girl listened."

Mario nodded, glancing at me again. "Well, if she can do one thing, it's get the job done," he said in a dull voice. His eyes suggested he'd left our conversation. He looked at everything backstage, just about gawking. I'd done something similar when I'd first gotten here, but he had something akin to nostalgia in his eyes.

I frowned as I studied him. Kenny tapped my arm, yanking me back to my job. A girl was just coming off the stage, the one we needed to change the makeup on for her to finish this scene. I stepped away from Mario and got to work. By the time we were done, Mario was speaking to the director. Again, I watched him, frowning.

Kenny sidled up to me. "What's wrong?" he muttered, sounding genuinely concerned.

I glanced over. "Nothing." Mario was becoming animated. More animated than I'd seen him before. It was fun to watch.

"Seems like something is." He touched my elbow. "Are you coming tonight?"

I shrugged. "I'd like to," I whispered back. We'd gotten closer to the stage after finishing the makeup, and that was the loudest we could get. "I might."

He nodded. "Well, okay then." He didn't move. "Um, so, we kind of need to get back to work. We don't have a whole lot of time between scenes."

I sighed and followed him back to the station. Right after we got everything ready, cast members flocked to us. We freshened up makeup and changed some looks for the final scene. Finally, as it arrived, I was basically free to do what I wanted. Mario was waiting for me to come to him, evidently. He was lurking in the shadows at the far end near the door.

The scene ended, everyone took their final bows, and I helped Kenny pack up. As I reached to pick up one of the boxes, Kenny stopped me. "He's waiting for you," he said, nodding towards Mario. I looked over and he was watching us from that same spot.

"I can help!" I tried to grab the box, but he picked it up and walked off. I sighed and went over to Mario.

It was actually a relief. I wasn't clear on where everything went since I was late thanks to Larry, plus it meant I was free to talk to Mario.

He gave me a small, sheepish smile when I reached him. "Sorry" was all he said.

"For what? You don't have anything to be sorry for." I tapped his arm lightly. He gave me another sad smile, but this one disappeared quickly. There was something like guilt in his eyes. I frowned at him. "I really don't need an apology when you haven't done anything to get me upset. Unless there's something you haven't told me?"

He sighed. "There's not. Do you want to go to that concert?"

"I would like to, but I don't have to." I glanced at Kenny, who was just coming back to where we were. "We can go there, or we can go somewhere else."

Mario's lips twitched and he nodded. "Okay. How about we go check that out and then decide?"

"Sounds good."

We waited around until Kenny left and then we followed him up the road to the amphitheater. We got about a mile from the place and had to stop. Cars lined both sides of the road – not that there was much space, anyway – so Mario pulled off the road behind Kenny. We all got out and he led the way to where the performance would be. There we found about a hundred people or so cheering in front of a makeshift stage.

It was hard to get anywhere near the stage, so we stood close to the outer edge. A couple of minutes later Kenny ran up to the microphone looking much different. He'd changed clothes and redone his hair, making him look more like a rockstar. "Hey everybody!" he shouted into the mic. A loud cheer came from everyone around us, but Mario and I stayed quiet. "Let's get this party started!" The drummer began banging on the drums, beginning an obvious heavy metal song. The guitars came in, and within seconds Mario and I found ourselves in a mosh pit. We were knocked around and he pulled me behind him out of the crowd.

"That was awful," I groaned as we made our way back to his car. "I hate metal."

"You're telling me. I've always hated metal, too." He patted his pockets and reached inside of them.

"If I had to pick a certain type of music to say I loved, it would be whatever John Denver is."

Mario stopped searching his pockets long enough to give me a surprised look. "Really?" I nodded. He gave me an impressed look before he went back to searching his pockets. A minute or two later, we reached his car and he looked inside. He let out a long sigh and muttered something in Spanish, something that sounded a little like he was cursing his car.

"What's wrong?" His reaction alarmed me. Something terrible was obviously wrong. I'd never heard him say any of that before.

He turned to me. "I locked my phone in the car and lost my keys somewhere. Someone probably got them." He let out a frustrated noise and looked at the car like he wanted to kick it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Daisy."

I shook my head as I pulled out my phone. "Do you remember your family's numbers?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Oh. Well, I can just call Larry and he can call Jimmy. I think he has Jimmy's number."

"Do it."

I called Larry and he picked up after a couple of rings. "Daisy? You okay?"

My heart sank when I heard how much static was coming through. I glanced at my signal. One bar. It was going to start breaking up at any moment. "I'm fine. I need Jimmy's number."

"Daze? I can barely hear you. Jimmy's number? Why do you need that?"

"Just give it to me!"

"Okay, okay, hold on." Silence for a long moment and then he gave me a string of numbers I tried to memorize. "Is it something I can help you out with?"

"Not this time. Thanks." I hung up and took a breath. Mario was watching me closely. "Got it. Let me dial and then you can speak to him." He nodded. The moment I hit the call button Mario snatched the phone from me.

There was a short conversation in Spanish, and the whole time Mario looked embarrassed. He gave my phone back and sat on the ground next to the car. "Should've kept up better with my keys."

I knelt on the ground next to him, lifting my skirt up enough so I wouldn't kneel on it. "It's okay."

He looked at me. "Mom and Dad are probably going to park my car for a while. I won't be able to use this car or one of our others." He sighed and leaned his head back on the door. "I can't believe this."

I felt so sorry for him. "I'm sure it will be fine, Mario."

He closed his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure it will, Daze, but we won't be able to hang out together for a while."

I shrugged, sliding closer to him. "It's okay. George would be happy, at least."

Mario rolled his eyes as he turned his head away. He took a breath, opened his mouth then closed it, and shook his head. "Well, at least some good will come out of this for one of us." He pulled his sleeve up and checked his watch. A Rolex. Gold. Very expensive. I had looked at one the last time I got a gift for my Dad before walking out of the store. "Dad should be here in a couple of minutes."

The words didn't register – I was stuck on one thing: he had to be rich. His sleeve was stuck, letting me see the watch still. I tapped it. "Yours?"

He glanced at it before pulling his sleeve down, covering it. "Dad's. He's had it for a very long time. I borrowed it."

I studied him for a minute, but his face didn't change. I shifted position so I was sitting on the road next to him. He leaned closer, our shoulders brushing. "It's nice. I was going to get one for my Dad, but it cost too much for me."

He fiddled with the watch. "Mom gave it to Dad for their anniversary before I was born." He looked at me. "You look nice tonight."

I glanced down. I had on a black skirt with a red wrap top trimmed in black lace. "Thanks." I looked at him. "You don't look so bad yourself."

He shrugged. "What can I say? I clean up nice." He winked at me. That was an understatement. He cleaned up very nicely. His blazer fit him perfectly. It was black and he'd paired it with a deep purple paisley patterned shirt. He looked good, especially with his hair slicked back like that. "What?" he asked, startling me and making me realize I was staring.

I smiled at him, blushing. "Nothing."

He smiled back. "I like your hair when it's pulled back from your face." He reached over and he touched my hair timidly. A moment later, his eyes darkened, and he tucked my hair behind my ear. He'd never looked at me this way before, and it was making my heart do funny things. Not that I was about to laugh. Not with his eyes locked on mine, or his fingers barely touching me as he slides them down my cheek and then my jaw, finally coming to rest just under my chin as my breath catches.

I swallowed when his gaze drifted towards my mouth and jerked back up to mine. We both leaned closer to each other, our faces inches apart. I could feel electricity in the air and my skin felt hot where his fingers were touching. His eyes were dark, and they felt like they were pulling me closer, closer. I closed my eyes, my lips just barely parted, waiting for the lightning to strike.

Instead of warm pressure on my mouth, I felt abrupt cold air on my face where his fingers had just been. My eyes flew open in time to see him run a hand through his hair and stand. I pulled my knees to my chest. What just happened? We were about to kiss, and he suddenly jumped up.

That train of thought was interrupted by a single name: George. That one name brought guilt crashing over me. He would be so hurt to know the truth of how I felt in that moment. The longer I let that thought and feeling linger, the more scared I became of myself. Because, despite everything else, I had wanted Mario to kiss me. Just to see what would happen.

I was glad it was dark so that Mario couldn't see how red my face was. He was probably thinking the same thing. I was embarrassed, not only because of what really happened, but because I didn't even try to stop him.

"Um, Dad should be here any moment," he said. I couldn't even bring myself to look at him. He came closer and I could just see the tips of his shoes above my knees. "I'm sorry," he whispered when I didn't respond. I put my forehead on my knees and felt his hand touch my shoulder briefly before he pulled back. "I shouldn't have – I'm sorry. I just . . ." He turned and leaned on the car with a sigh.

I stayed silent.

"Daze," he whispered. "I don't know what came over me."

I pressed my lips together as I lifted my head. "Not now, Mario."

"Why-"

"Don't. Just don't."

"But let me explain-"

"Later. Leave me alone for now, Mario."

He sighed but slid down the car, sitting next to me, this time with a foot between us. That was how we were when his dad found us a little while later.