Don't Give Up (On Me)

The way he looked under the spotlight was actually ridiculous. He was painfully good looking and it made me wonder how I'd gotten so lucky. I'd been lucky for the past year and eight months, and trust me, that's a long time in the young adult world of dating.

The way he breathed in what the crowd fed him was something I'd never seen before in my life. He was incredibly talented and remarkable at what he did. He put so much passion into it, no wonder he was so good. He stood on a speaker and breathed in and out heavily, holding the mic above his head as the crowd sung back at him. It was a good mix of girls and boys, something that surprised them.

There was a time when it'd be only girls, but now that their music was tuning more into a feel good rock n' roll, they drew in a lot more guys than they thought they ever would.
He waved them on, both hands in the air, begging them for more. And they gave it to him. He had the audience of two thousand people wrapped around his little finger and he loved every minute of it. He was an exceptional front man, and interacted perfectly with both the crowd and the rest of the guys, dividing his attention perfectly.

"Come on, Arizona! Bring it home for us!" He screamed into the mic as the crowd continued to sing the words to 'Don't Give Up On Us', right back at the man who had written them.

It was a home show, to end a sixty two date tour. That's right, sixty two, world wide. He'd been away for almost four months, and they were all glad to be home, even though this was the biggest tour they'd ever done. They looked worn out but they ignored that in order to put on a great show, like they always did.

The singing stopped but the guys kept playing. John moved forward on the speaker to get closer to the crowd while the guys played an interluded version of the song, so he could speak. Every step he took on that speaker put me on edge. He'd had about two beers before going onstage, taking one [on with him and it was making me nervous. He wasn't supposed to be drinking that stuff right now.

Thought I wouldn't notice.

"Alright AZ!" He yelled into the mic, silencing the venue. "We're home-it's our last gig of the tour and I want it be-I've got a really good feeling about this show, Arizona!" He called, placing one hand on his hip as Kennedy wandered over beside him, focused on his guitar. "I'm surrounded by good vibes, good people, you guys, these guys," He chuckled, putting a hand on Kennedy's shoulder. I think that was to steady himself, more than anything. "I gotta pretty girl side stage," He threw in unexpectedly, looking over to wink at me. I poked my tongue back at him and he laughed, turning back to the crowd. "And fucking good music, and I feel pretty fucking good right now. This feeling? Is what I've been looking for, so Arizona, you pretty mother fuckers, don't you dare let me down, I want you to sing this song and bring us all home!" He screamed, raising his mic as the guys fell into the last chorus.

His voice was like a raspy symphony, singing his own words to two thousand plus sets of ears. He was living a good life and he knew it.

As he pumped up the crowd during that last part, I couldn't help but look over to where a bunch of towels and backpacks sat on the storage unit backstage, my eyes dropping to a little orange container that sat in the side water bottle pocket of his backpack.

O'CALLAGHAN, CORNELIUS JOHN
PRESCRIBED: ANTI-DEPRESSANTS