Nineteen

I come to this venue every saturday night after work, its been my tradition since I became of legal age three years ago. Tonight is saturday night and I have specifically come to see a certain band. I saw them last week performing here and their music blew be away. It wasn't just the music though, the singer was gorgeous. I couldn't understand why i have never felt the same way for another man but that only spurred my curiosity on. I sat at the bar waiting for them to come on. I looked at my watch and saw they had another five so I ordered another drink. I had a problem with alcohol I admit but tonight I wanted to be sober so maybe I could speak and maybe even dance with the singer.

"Hey fuckers! Welcome Pencey Prep!" the manager yelled into the mic. He was a good friend of mine and when no one wanted to join me here, we hung out. The crowd cheered as the band of four men ran onto the stage and grabbed their instruments. The lead singer grabbed the mic eagerly and grinned.

"This one's called Heroine Slow!" the crowd cheered and I finished my drink. I pulled a twenty out of my pocket and left it on the bar to blend with the crowd. I wormed my way to the front and past the mellow mosh pit which hadn't formed yet since this song was slower as the title claimed. Now I was resting my arms on the stage and watching the band perform. Everyone was so full of energy that I felt myself being dragged into the laughing crowd as the second song began. By now the singer was pouring with sweat as he braced himself, doubling over and screaming into the mic. It was a wonder that he didn't keel over when that song finished.

The band was great, it really was but the singer captured most of my attention. His short dark hair down to his soccer t-shirt were enough to make butterflies dance in my stomach and up to my heart when he put his white guitar down and jumped into the crowd. Instantly he disappeared and I felt a sense of loss. I looked around to only see the mass of fans screaming for the next band to come on. I waded back to the bar to see if I could find the singer but there was no sight of him. I was looking for navy blue shirt with a soccer ball on it in a cast of hundreds of black clad punks! I sighed in defeat and resumed my earlier position at the bar. I ordered my third rum and coke of the evening. Maybe next weekend Pencey Prep would be playing again and maybe that time I can meet the singer. Then again, I was just another fan that wanted to befriend him. Another sigh escaped my lips and I took a careful sip of my drink. But of course they were a unknown band so who knows where I will end up with all of this?