"We've got front row?!" Ashley asked amazed, clutching her ticket and Hitachi zoom camera to her chest like they were cherished toys as they made their way through the crowds flooding into the arena, swirving and pushing toward Gate E, screams filling the air like at a carnival. The putrid smell of bathroom air and hot dog grease smacked all of them in the nose, but for friendship, it's worth it.

"Even thought it's for some boy band," Taryn began mutually as she eyed her hot dog, taking a bite of it, ketchup and mustard smearing at the corners of her full lips, "I'm glad my connections finally paid off."

"I don't know how you can eat that shit," Jessa said repulsed, pretending to gag. "Do you know what that's made of?"

"Not all of us love every thing with a face," Taryn retorted aggressively, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm.

"Your cousin is a god," Celeste admitted with excitment as she tried to cool down the situation, pulling on Taryn's arm in appreciation, Taryn just sipping on her Pepsi and rolling her eyes in responce, Jessa's eyes leaving Taryn and scowering the pathetic merchandise priced so high, the objective was odvious to make ridiculious amounts of money, not provide fans with decent purchases and smiles. "Tell him as soon as we get home that I will make sweet love to him."

Taryn nearly choked to death on her soda as Jessa and Ashley looked at Celeste bewildered and slightly disgusted. She'd never said anything remotely sexual before. "Guys," Celeste started shakily, peering at them innocently, stuffing her hands in her jeans' belt loops and shuffling her feet, "it was a joke."

"I knew that!" Ashley piped in with a smile as the four of them laughed, piling with dozens of other into Gate E, low rumbles of discussion reverberating off the bashe walls and into the open air of music.

They learned quickly that the tour consisted of Play, A*Teens, Lindsay Pagano and of course, Dream Street. The only group they provided slight attention for was A*Teens and that was only because Jessa was in love with '70's groups, including Abba. "The music never dies," Jessa claimed, and she was right. Many chaperones of hormone-driven pre-teens sang along quietly with A*Teens as their daughters gushed about Chris's hair and Frankie's abs to their over-excited friends. Taryn glanced around at the gossiping adolescents, their faces pure, blemish-free and minds naive, their love for Dream Street scribbled shamelessly on faces, arms and T-Shirts. 'Don't they have a more constructive way of showing devotion?' Taryn wondered as she played with the zippers on her black muscle tank. There's got to be more to this pop world she couldn't understand as a roar of approval bowled her over like she was a bowling pin as 5 boys took the stage, all sporting the same pants but in different colors, blue lights flickering around them, all made out by the naked eye was their obscure outlines. Ashley and Celeste jumped to the barracade, their faces fluent with blissful happiness as they began to sing along to "Feel the Rain." Jessa and Taryn just glanced at each other, shrugged, and slowly rose to join their friends with teeniesh tendencies, the bass booming around them like the sound of bombs, the melodious voices of Dream Street floating into their ears; this was their time, their summer.

By the middle of Dream Street's set, Jessa and Taryn actually began to sway to the music like it was an unknown proclivity, the music surprisingly captivating to the two anti-pop superstars, their eyes anchored on the boys as they executed their moves perfectly. Jessa's eyes were on only one, the tall Italian in the middle; Greg Raposo. A subtle smile shifted Jessa's lips upward as she watched him closely, observing every thrust and every note shooting from his mouth. She was the skilled hunter and he the easy prey. Mid-way through a song called "I Say Yeah," Greg and Jessa made eye contact. Expectently, a normal fan would begin screaming pathetically and peeing their pants, but it wasn't like that. This wasn't a glance-over that they provided for all fans to give them some sort of thrill; this was a staredown, her lustful eyes and his eyes of curiosity. Greg smirked a little as Jessa rose her eyebrows suggestively, a little rose brushing his cheeks. That moment when everything paused was quickly retorted with the next song, a slow ballot called "Jennifer Goodbye."

The fans began to sway like waves in the ocean as Greg took center stage, his black wifebeater wet and tight against his body, leaving nothing to the imagination, his lips moist with a swipe of his tounge as he began to oggle Jessa and Taryn. "Been there, done that, one time too many," Greg began, his voice as smooth as butter as he approached the ledge of the stage, dozens of hands reaching and groping over Jessa and Taryn, smothering them, to reach something they could never have.

Greg cupped his hand over Taryn's, Taryn's

eyes popping out of her head in surprise. "Come on up," he whispered, his voice raspy yet sweet. A burly black security guard lifted the tall Taryn over the grey iron barracade and she crawled onstage, much to Celeste's jealousy and Ashley's awe. Taryn couldn't hear anything; she was too in shock. Taryn felt as if she was under a microscope, being dissected visually by hundreds, if not thousands of strangers as Greg got down on one knee, his hand still leeched onto hers, his brown eyes glistening from the poking of irritating lights. "Jennifer Goodbye," Greg began, Taryn's voice hitched involuntarily in her throat as a semi-joyful smile diffused on her face, the somber blue spotlight blinding her. The cool winds drifting off the water spun her and Greg in their own world, a world where the audience was just a mirage and it was only them living, breathing and drinking music for now and forever. 'This attention is nice,' she smiled to herself.

"Don't wanna figure out why anymore." The crowd was behind Taryn, cheering almost overshadowing Greg's voice, her heart beating against her skin like she was overdosing, a feeling it knew all too well. "Don't want to be your fall back guy." Taryn felt his hand slip a little too down south as he dipped her, a move she sure a few dozen fans would kill her for. Taryn glared at him with fire as he simply smiled with a tinge of arrogance. The flash of a camera verified that Ashley captured that picturesque moment and Taryn was going to kill her for it. "I'm gonna take care of me." Greg let her back up, his gleaming smile the last thing she saw as he lead her sweaty hand toward the security guard, her eyes glassy and dialated as if she'd seen a ghost. She could barely breathe as the guard let her over with her friends, Jessa, Celeste and Ashley bombarding her with questions like bullets from a machine gun of curious interest, easily refilled and easily pulling on Taryn's nerves.

"To make it short," Taryn began curtly, glancing back at the boys finishing "Jennifer Goodbye", her hands tucked comfortably in her capri pant pockets, "It was like a permanent high, but better."

The four friends watched the show until the end, hand in hand, Jessa and Taryn beginning to catch some of the words and melodies like a net snagging butterflies. They were definately great and dedicated performers, Jessa and Taryn had to give them credit for that; maybe that's all the credit they needed. Celeste and Ashley were falling more in love with them and the music, hoping the summer would pass as slow as an old man crossing the street of his mortality.

After the crowds dispersed after an extremly energetic performance "It Happens Every Time," Taryn, Jessa, Celeste and Ashley sat back in their wooden seats, taking in everything they just saw, their eyes twinkling and lips permanentaly smiling. "This is going to be a great summer," Celeste whispered, the wind dancing skillfully through her hair.

The four friends retreated back to the RV, the RV nestled next to the Jones Beach's main gate, a gate holding Dream Street behind it, a fact the girls weren't clear of. The moon guided them safely to the RV, their faces casted in pale moonlight, the RV dark under the shade of night.

"I'm trashed," Taryn said groggerly, rubbing at her eyes that still noticed circles of red following her eyes wherever they moved from the damned lights, a yawn jumping from her throat, unlocking the RV door and faltering in. "Let's call it a night."

"I'm with her," Ashley yawned, climbing into the RV at Taryn's heels, the thumping of their feet surfing through the dense night like a stampede. Celeste and Jessa sat against the RV, the night still young and their energy far from reaching bottom. Like the ears of dogs, they heard the unmistakable shouts of the boys of Dream Street, their amiles augmenting.

"I think that's them over there," Celeste whispered intensely, rising to her feet and taking a few cautious steps foward.

"Hey!" Jessa shouted, waving frantically, seeing the outline of one of the guys approach the gate.

Greg stopped at the gate, his gut knowing that was the girl front row, his mind not sure. He grasped onto the gate, his eyes trying to fight through the darkness to compromise with his gut feeling. Secretly, a smile jumped onto his face, hoping he could at least get her name.

"Great show," Jessa yelled, a smile sliding on her face as she hit Celeste, Celeste cracking up at this strange situation and Jessa's sloppy approach.

"That's not how to win him over, Hun," Celeste whispered through her chuckles, Jessa glaring at her to be quiet.

"Thanks," Greg shouted back, his heartbeats climbing inside his body like the moon in the sky.

"See you tomorrow," Jessa studdered as Celeste pulled her onto the RV, their laughs clashing together in the chilling night. "Stop, Celeste," Jessa scolded her quietly as they tumbled onto the RV, their disturbance waking Taryn.

"Normal people sleep at this hour," Taryn yelled brusquely, suffocating her ears with two pillows, burying her head under her black blanket with teal polkadots sprinkled over it.

"Since when was she normal?" Celeste whispered with cruel intentions. Laughs exploded in their throats, but were stifled by hands clasped over their mouths. Two of a kind, Jessa and Celeste.

"Tomorrow?" Greg wondered aloud as he slowly creeped back to the bus, his eyes bolted on the vehicle that would trail them like a devoted puppy for 2 exhilirating and crippling months. So much will happen to the 9 travelers of the road, so many things wanting to be framed and so many things wanting to be buried. Because, they all know, It Happens Every Time.