Burn This City

“I can’t come in tonight,” Skylar miserably droned into the phone. We may have hated the teacher, but it seems that maybe Drama did do us some good. She almost even looked sick as she played the part so well to our manager. Her face brightened exceptionally as soon as she hit the end button though. I smiled slyly and gave myself one last gander in the mirror before we headed out.

“Mr. Mallard would be proud that you’ve finally honed in your acting skills,” I complimented as we dashed out of her apartment. She laughed and nodded, excited to actually have a night off from the coffee shop. We walked happily to the venue to see that a band was already setting up. Dave was attempting to set up a display of lights that read “RACING” on one box and “KITES” on the other. I glanced over at Skylar who was already scanning the area for Preston, their dark-haired, girl-troubled bassist (or, that’s what I got out his blog). Three other boys that I didn’t recognize were onstage setting up. Two of them were plugging in guitars and strumming softly while the other was repeatedly banging on his drums, making it almost impossible to hear or talk to anyone.

“There’s Alex. He’s the singer,” Skylar teased, pointing out the pint-sized boy who was messing with a microphone. I rolled my eyes.

“Let’s get a table,” I said squeezing through pockets of girls to get a booth. Skylar made her way to the bar to order the two of us drinks. I messed with my cell phone while I waited for her. She came back, sliding me a Coke. We conversed happily for a moment until the lights dimmed to inform us that the first band was about to go on. We both peered at the stage to see Racing Kites illuminated by multi-colored stage lights. A guy with tattooes and guages began to strum his guitar as the drummer banged hyperactively on the drums. Seconds later, Alex was singing and generally hopping around the stage.

Both of us watched the set with an intermediate level of interest. I could see Skylar smiling a little everytime Preston looked into the crowd. Everytime Alex flashed some hips, a few girls screamed. Their set ended quickly though.

“Nice googly eyes there, Skylar,” I giggled. She glowered at me for a second.

“Like you weren’t all over the midget lifting up his shirt,” She countered.

“He’s taller than you,” I pointed out, not bothering to deny the other part of her statement.

“Fancy seeing you two here,” A familiar smug voice came out of nowhere. I glanced over to see Dave standing a few feet away.

“Don’t you have some neon shirts you should be selling, merch boy?” I asked snappily, hoping he hadn’t heard our prior conversation. I felt awkward talking about these boys like
we knew them and it wouldn’t help if Dave overheard.

“Probably, but I figured since I invited you guys, I should at least talk to you. Wanna hang out with me by the merch?” He shrugged. I sighed, this dude was being nicer/less cocky than I expected. Hard to be a bitch when someone’s trying to be sincere. Skylar and I slid out of the booth and followed Dave to his little corner of shirts, Eps, stickers, and posters galore.

“Alex will probably be happy to see you’re here,” Dave mentioned casually after selling a shirt and receiving a five dollar tip. Skylar sniggered and my cheeks flushed. Thankfully, the next band started before Skylar could make a comment.