The Art Of Discretion

Jay’s POV

Oh. My. God! As soon as we enter the concert hall, the atmosphere takes over. I can feel all my worries of Mollie’s anger and the taxi driver’s odd actions drift away. Lights flash tantalisingly, taking another breath from my chest with every flicker, drawing what seems to be another ton of people into the room with every heart rendering thump of the background music.

Mol and I swarm into the pit, risking getting separated by a bunch of screaming teenies as they surge ahead, fighting ruthlessly to reach the front.

We manage to secure a place at the far left of the stage, and while Mollie is content to drift aimlessly around the pit, I cling determinedly to the bars lining the stage, refusing to relent my grip. The metal grows warm in my grip, but I clutch desperately to it whilst the crowd surges forcefully against me.

The support band strolls confidently onstage. The lead singer looks down at us and I hear Mollie scream as he winks, a cocky smirk lighting up half of his features, distorted in the uncertain light. I crane my neck round at lightning speed; Mollie’s face is shining with tears as she mouths desperate devotions of love to little Jimmy Urine. He winks once more before ploughing mercilessly into their first song of the night.

The teenies seem to have settled a little, and now I dare to relinquish my grip a little on the bars, and take Mollie’s hand, knowing that the tables will turn as soon as this act is over. Her eyes flicker rapidly back and forth as the band parade the stage, and widen to the size of our takeaway plates as the bassist performs her patented backbend.

I hear cheers, mingled with hisses of envy at the display of affection for Lyn – Z. Remembering she is my hero’s wife, I smile beguilingly, squinting in the light. She looks down and grins cheekily at me.

A night to remember.

An hour later, there are tears pouring mercilessly down the side of my face as they stroll on. The noise is deafening, the lights flashing quickly enough to provoke an epileptic fit, and yet, I feel calm. I jump in time to the uncertain rhythm as the floor is pounded and the familiar chant which has been echoing around the hall “MCR, MCR, MCR!” Finally ends in an ecstatic “MC-AAAAAAAAAAH!” As the chivalrous troupe appear.

Bob waves at the crowd, smiling toothily before settling himself behind the shields of his kit, tapping the bass drum expectantly and provoking a whole new level of screams.

Mikey swipes his bass in an expertly practised fashion, high fiving Lyn Z before hugging Frankie, who is brushing his fringe impatiently from his slightly rounded face.

They turn to face their audience, bowing exaggeratedly before sneering comically. I hear Frank’s giggle as he mimes spitting at the crowd, rendering them helpless to him as screams emit from all corners of the room.

Ray twitches his head uncertainly as he walks on – before he is greeted enthusiastically by his fans. The crowd can sense his unease and those odd glow sticks and roses are thrown to his feet. He lifts his head so we catch a glimpse of his mysterious expression and cheer louder before the band turn expectantly to the corner of the stage – and the lights black out.

The noise fully hits me now, as the sight of them all disappears into a confusion of panicked screams and frenzied stamps. The shock is almost electric and I feel my grip loosen and finally slip on the bars as I am thrown around in the torrent of the pit. The light appears. A single beam of light illuminates the stage and there he is.

He is standing alone, the other band members hidden by the sudden darkness, but he looks strong. His face is caring yet determined, and thought I know I am probably being an over - obsessed fan, he appears to be looking directly at me, his hazel brown eyes staring through mine and into my soul.

He tears his eyes away and a smirk lights up his smoothly carved face. His hair is thrown casually over one side of his face and expertly ruffled to the point of extremity. His eyes roam over the crowd, up to the stands and down at us, sweating and screaming in the pit. I think then, that we must look terrible, clawing up at the wooden boards of the stage, attempting to overpower the security guards must make us look appropriate for a zoo. But he doesn’t care. He smiles, and every word of gratitude is emitted in his expression.

“Thank you!” he calls, waving his hand for silence, and immediately the gesture is granted, an unnatural echo of whispers falling through the arena, “For being here tonight,” The crowd scream once more, signalling the end of his first sentence,
“However!” he is speaking again, a sombre expression dominating his face, “There will be no My Chemical Romance tonight!” This is greeted with gasps of despair and denial, the crowd lost in their sorrow momentarily forget the presence of Gee, it is not until he steps forward kneeling down to us, his eyes twinkling mysteriously.

‘Instead…The Black Parade will be running tonight’s events!’

I can’t help it, I feel the power of his words hit me and as they cultivate directly into “The End,” I leap up, punching a fist into the air, as I do so, my knuckles connect with what feels like a sturdy jaw. I turn, finding it difficult to direct my thoughts let alone my actions in the chaos.
“I’m so sor-“ I begin, before stopping abruptly, my mouth dropping to form a perfect “O” The taxi driver from earlier smiles charismatically back at me and nods to show his forgiveness. I find myself momentarily stunned as I am thrown around in the current, Gerard’s voice washing over me, the irresistible rhythm carrying me to no harm, but my mind elsewhere.

An hour later, Gerard rips off his jacket and leaves it abandoned from a pole hanging over the audience.
“We’ll be back in half an hour,” He winks and waves to his chorus of screams before strolling offstage. The background music switches on once more, and the lights are restored. I see Mollie fighting her way towards me, and look around. In the midst of the show, we have managed to get thrown to the middle of the crowd, all around us, people are streaming out. I shrug and once Mollie reaches me, we begin to follow them.

“God, I need a drink,” She proclaims, shoving her way towards the double doors, grabbing the glass from a nearby beer distributor and instead filling it with water from a water dispenser. She sips meekly, peering at me over the top of her glass.
“What’s up?” I tear my eyes from the shadow I have engraved into the ground with my intent stare and look at her. Her eyes are peering over my shoulder where a young man is standing.

His hair is shoulder length and he seems to be peering straight through the crowd at us. He winks, and with a slight jerk of the head, forces his way out into the welcoming cool of the evening settling outside. I turn back to Mollie, ready to exchange exasperated looks at the cheek of men, but see to an extent of shock that she is reaching for my arm and pulling me outside with her.

”Mol!” I cry, attempting to wrench my arm away, but there is no stopping her as she drags me determinedly around the corner, and into a dark, deserted alleyway.