Just Think Happy Thoughts
Ch. 14: Golden Trifecta
Five minutes later, Rosie had edged her way to the front, along with the rest of the group. Elena fixed her with a skeptical eye. “What’s suddenly changed your mind about this?”
“Nothing, I just didn’t feel like sitting at the bar anymore. Figured I’d see what all the fuss is about.”
“Then who was the boy you were talking to?”
“None of your business, scrunchkin.”
“Whatever. Just make sure you let Nick down gently when you tell him you’re leaving him for a boy with a devilock you met in a Chicago nightclub.”
“Just shut up, short stack, or I might have to ask when you and Iero are tying the knot. You know it took HIS parents forever to finally make it legal.”
“Aww, sweetness, you’re not leaving me for Tony, are you?” Marty batted his eyes at her jokingly.
Elena rolled her eyes and sighed, thanking God that the other boys weren’t listening. “I’m too young for this shit.”
Luckily, Travis chose that moment to take the stage. “Alright, alright, everyone, who’s ready for the music?” The thick crowd let out a half-hearted cheer, being too much so composed of hipsters to be truly excited for anything. “Come ON, you pussies, let some emotion show!” Still the cheer came back only partially. Travis grumbled and shook his head. “Fucking emo hipster kids, making my life miserable, obviously Gabe’s so-called dance skills weren’t enough…OK, fine, here’s Basilica.”
Without preamble, Gregori and three other boys took to the stage, strapping on their respective instruments. The Bulgarian wriggled the mic out of its stage and grinned happily down at Rosie, a busted right molar visible from the dancefloor. “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll!” he slurred into the microphone as the guitarist hit the opening chords of the first song. Rosie felt a familiar surge of joy swelling up in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed it quickly, not wishing the others to sense that she was enjoying herself.
The guitar wailed, the bass thumped, the drums rattled the foundation. And Gregori screamed. In what one could only assume was Bulgarian. His accent was twice as thick when he yelled, somehow, deep, guttural, primal. Like a jungle chant. It didn’t take a whole two verses before the first few rows were convulsing to the beat. Even Melody was thrashing with the others. Rosie only allowed herself to sway and bob slightly, struggling not to completely let loose.
“MOSH PIT!” Tony, Danny and Manny screamed out instinctively in unison, throwing themselves in opposite directions and bumping into unsuspecting hipsters. Marty pulled Elena with him into the fray, soon followed by Melody. Rosie resigned herself to watching Gregori as he bellowed.
With one last bestial groan, the song ended, and the crowd cheered in earnest. Gregori flashed his crooked smile down at them, lingering on Rosie. “I hope you are not too tired, because we have a full set to play still. This next one is a love song!”
“Nothing, I just didn’t feel like sitting at the bar anymore. Figured I’d see what all the fuss is about.”
“Then who was the boy you were talking to?”
“None of your business, scrunchkin.”
“Whatever. Just make sure you let Nick down gently when you tell him you’re leaving him for a boy with a devilock you met in a Chicago nightclub.”
“Just shut up, short stack, or I might have to ask when you and Iero are tying the knot. You know it took HIS parents forever to finally make it legal.”
“Aww, sweetness, you’re not leaving me for Tony, are you?” Marty batted his eyes at her jokingly.
Elena rolled her eyes and sighed, thanking God that the other boys weren’t listening. “I’m too young for this shit.”
Luckily, Travis chose that moment to take the stage. “Alright, alright, everyone, who’s ready for the music?” The thick crowd let out a half-hearted cheer, being too much so composed of hipsters to be truly excited for anything. “Come ON, you pussies, let some emotion show!” Still the cheer came back only partially. Travis grumbled and shook his head. “Fucking emo hipster kids, making my life miserable, obviously Gabe’s so-called dance skills weren’t enough…OK, fine, here’s Basilica.”
Without preamble, Gregori and three other boys took to the stage, strapping on their respective instruments. The Bulgarian wriggled the mic out of its stage and grinned happily down at Rosie, a busted right molar visible from the dancefloor. “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll!” he slurred into the microphone as the guitarist hit the opening chords of the first song. Rosie felt a familiar surge of joy swelling up in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed it quickly, not wishing the others to sense that she was enjoying herself.
The guitar wailed, the bass thumped, the drums rattled the foundation. And Gregori screamed. In what one could only assume was Bulgarian. His accent was twice as thick when he yelled, somehow, deep, guttural, primal. Like a jungle chant. It didn’t take a whole two verses before the first few rows were convulsing to the beat. Even Melody was thrashing with the others. Rosie only allowed herself to sway and bob slightly, struggling not to completely let loose.
“MOSH PIT!” Tony, Danny and Manny screamed out instinctively in unison, throwing themselves in opposite directions and bumping into unsuspecting hipsters. Marty pulled Elena with him into the fray, soon followed by Melody. Rosie resigned herself to watching Gregori as he bellowed.
With one last bestial groan, the song ended, and the crowd cheered in earnest. Gregori flashed his crooked smile down at them, lingering on Rosie. “I hope you are not too tired, because we have a full set to play still. This next one is a love song!”