Keep the Faith

Your eyes trace his figure as he marches upon the stage as if he owns it, and, under the flashing neon lights, he looks like a god in his own right. A god that reigned over whatever heaven rejected, all the fucked up things the world had to offer. You had loved him for it.

You are screaming your ragged lungs out, mouth bleeding on the inside from singing along too much, surrounded by people who are in just like you. But then your whole world goes quiet.

Hushed now, like the beating of a heart you can't feel anymore. The throb of a pulse that licks the underside of flesh that cannot be found.

Here is the day you've been waiting for; you're breathing and living in the same room as the one you called hero.

You kept the faith even when nobody else did; believed even when you resigned to the fact that you may never see them; remained strong despite how wrong everyone else made him seem.

You rejoiced when you found out they were coming; your fingers trembled as you held the ticket, the date of what may be the best one of your life imprinted on paper; nearly hyperventilated as you rode to the venue, the vehicle going agonizingly slow.

Now, to the current moment, where it seemed like everything you went through for them has paid off.

But something was wrong.

Your mouth is still open in silent exhilaration, but nothing but horror went past your lips.

You're watching him, and your eyes suddenly start to sting. Was your faith for nothing all along? Did you believe in false things? Was your strength actually just stupidity?

He's wearing sunglasses that hides his stunning eyes, his expression was that of blatant arrogance, his outstretched arms soaking up the glory the audience bathed him with.

The speakers blast out the sound of the opening song, but you are hollow as you continue to stare at him; offhand, haughty, uncaring. His voice is still as hoarse and melodic as the records suggested, but it seems like the passion has left it. He jumps around the stage like other concert recounts said he would, but his actions seemed rehearsed, robotic. He speaks and jokes and summons the crowd, but there is something rushed in the way he did so, like all he wanted was to get this over with.

As if the music was now meaningless. Like the crescendo of shattering glass; beautiful and chaotic but oh-so terrible in its brokenness.

Despair has now crept in tendrils through your heart, and by now they've almost overwhelmed it. You weren't enjoying this; you paid to see the show of the band that has done so much for you, to come face to face with the man you considered your savior. But all that you're getting are front row seats to their ruin, because it seemed like the man who urged you to believe finally stopped believing in himself too.

You almost left, even if it seemed impossible to go through this throng of people who were oblivious to the self-destruction that they were witnessing. You couldn't stand to wallow in this pretentious crap anymore; home was inviting, and the thought of destroying all evidence of hope in the band that has let you down.

But then, a sliver of salvation appears.

Redemption is here.

You turned away, but you looked back just in time to see it.

And you remember what was keeping your faith alive.

You've seen it in photos that you collected in files on your computer, in videos of other shows and interviews that you hunted down, and it greeted you every morning as your eyes woke up to the poster you'd taped on your ceiling. To remind you that he hasn't changed, not really. That he never will.

Because now he'd taken off his sunglasses, one arm was stretched toward the audience, beckoning them to sing with him, and surrounding him was something magical and enchanting lighting up his countenance, even brighter than the stark spotlights.

He was smiling.

The edges of his mouth curved upwards in a wide grin, revealing his signature crooked white teeth; his golden eyes are shining with the passion you thought he'd already lost, and his strange light shadowed the hollows of his angular features.

He's so beautiful when he smiles. There was no other word for it.

He brings the mic back up to his lips and speaks into it with something like a sparkle in his voice. For an instant you are stunned, because you realize that he has just said 'I love you guys!' in your own language.

And you just know he meant it.

The tears that had filled up your eyes now descend your soft cheeks, but this time they were of joy, instead of sorrow. You wonder how you could have ever doubted him because for you, this man inspires nothing but faith. If only everyone else could see it.

If only, and oh my God, there it goes again. You feel your heart swelling and bursting in your chest; he's still there.

Because for that fleeting glimpse of eternity, he smiles, he smiles, oh how he smiles.