Drunk On You

"My, my. What a crowd we have here tonight!"

Cheers erupted from the packed amphitheater. The House of Blues in Los Angeles, California was packed to the brim for the Zumiez sponsored tour. All Time Low and Yellowcard were co-headlining the tour, with Mayday Parade having a spot on the roster. The three bands and their specific crews had been excited for another chance to be on tour with their friends, and the opener Anchors?

They were just glad to be there.

It'd been a short six months since that fateful show in Austin, Texas and so much had happened in that time that it hard difficult for the members of the pop-punk outfit to really wrap their head around anything. They'd been relocated to Los Angeles, California for most of the six months, having been put up in a small studio to record their first album.

A feat which had been a dream for the do-it-yourself band whom they'd never thought they'd fulfill. Up until that point, Anchors only had a handful of self-released EPs that had been recorded and printed onto self-labeled CDs bought it bulk from Costco. Being able to enter an actual studio and record professionally had been a dream come true in itself.

But this?
Playing to hundreds of people night after night, on a functioning tour bus, and getting paid to do it?

This was heaven.

As Anchors stepped on stage for the first night of the tour, it was clear that nerves were a plenty. The drummer, Jake, nearly knocked over his drum kit once he had seen the sheer number of people filling the amphitheater. Logan and Vance, bassist and guitarist respectively, were sharing specific looks of pure awe and nervousness while Ben could barely walk on stage.

They were being watched, of course. Hundreds of eyes stared at the opening band, some familiar with their music - but most of them not. But it wasn't only the fans, of course. Their tour-mates lined the side-stage, eager to hear music from the newest addition to the Epitath family.

Zachary Merrick was leaning against an amp set-up with his tour manager and lead singer by his side. Jack and Rian were standing across the opposite side of the stage, leaving Zack to watch the set with Alex and Matt.

"They look like they're going to shit their pants," Alex piped up, slurping down his coke ICEE with a speed that both impressed and disgusted both Zack and Matt.

"It's their first real tour, Alex. It's understandable. Playing their first gig in LA of all places can't be easy," Matt offered, rolling his eyes at his friend's insensitivity.

Meanwhile, Zack just stood and observed - in typical Zack Merrick fashion. He wasn't generally a man of many words as it was, but he was also curious to see what this newbies had to offer. He had met most of the band, and they all seemed like pretty good people - the kind of band that seemed to get along with everyone.

Except for their front-woman.

It wasn't that Delaney Rae was rude or shy or awkward. She was just...something else. She'd burst into the All Time Low dressing room in a flurry of "Nice to meet you!"'s and "How're ya'll doin'?"s before dropping off an apple pie and being pulled away by her tour manager, Reece, to do sound check.

"Delaney seems to be doing fine, anyways." Matt continued, pulling Zack from his thoughts as the raven-haired singer marched on stage with a confident gate and a beaming smile.

She was something else, alright. While the rest of her band seemed overcome by nerves, little miss Delaney Rae was prancing on the stage like she fucking owned it in a little pair of cut off denim shorts and her cowboy boots.

Those who had actually heard of the band screamed for the outfit, while the rest of the crowd offered up a polite round of cheering just because the show was starting. The sound of those cheers just had Delaney smiling even brighter as she removed the microphone from the stand.

"We're a band called Anchors from just outside of Nashville, Tennessee-" she began, her southern accent even thicker than Zack had remembered.

"This tour is our first official time out on the road as a signed band, which is very exciting for us. Some of you might have heard of us, but I'm thinking most of you have no fucking clue who we are. So, we decided to start things off with a lil primer for ya'll to get you in the mood. How many of you have ever heard a little song called 'I Believe In A Thing Called Love' by the Darkness?" She asked, pausing and offering her band mates a grin when a vast number of the crowd roared in anticipation and Anchors began their set for the night.

At first, those watching the set from side-stage had been nervous for the band, and rightfully so. It seemed, from the reactions of Anchors' male members, that the band had never played a to a crowd of this size, and appeared entirely over-whelmed. But they seemed to be following Delaney Rae's lead, growing more confident through their five song set as the crowd vocalized their approval for the opener.

It was evident by their first original song that Anchors was good - fucking great, even. Their overall sound was heavier than anyone on tour had anticipated (because, well...not to be stereotypical but Ben was very flamboyantly gay and their lead singer wore fucking cowboy boots) and Delaney Rae had a voice on her that sounded smooth and creamy like single malt whiskey - but with a hint of rasp and a range that blew the male vocalists on tour out of the park.

Everyone was impressed with the openers - and rightfully so. Anchors had just put on probably the best opening set that anyone on the tour had ever seen, and the crowd's reaction at the end of their set reflected that.

"Thank you, Los Angeles for an amazing set! We'll be at our merch table in about thirty minutes if you want to come say hi!" Delaney called out, giving an exaggerated bow to the crowd before she wandered off of the stage, heading right towards Matt, Alex, and Zack.

"Girl, that shit was amazing!" Alex exclaimed, a broad grin across his lips as Delaney was the first off of the stage.

Zack watched as she approached the trio at Alex's proclamation, leaving the rest of her band to chat with some of the others on the tour.

"Thank you," She smiled warmly, that slow, southern drawl coming across just as easy as it had on stage.

Her hands were clasped in front of her, shoulders slumping forward in a manner that was so different from the stance she'd adopted on that stage. Zack watched curiously, seeing her dark eyes shifting subtly from the men in front of her towards her band mates hanging in the wings. It was a strange, subtle shift from the Delaney Rae who'd just nearly brought down the house to this creature standing before them.

All three of the men watched her curiously, with Alex the first to vocalize any concern.

"Hey girl, you okay?" He asked, watching as Delaney's breathing was suddenly deep and erratic - her dark eyes widening ever so slightly. He took a step forward, about to place a hand at her shoulder before her drummer, Jake, was suddenly at the girl's side.

"Shit, Laney. Already?" He asked, a soft frown over his lips as he wrapped an arm around her waist and rushed Delaney past the trio without so much as another word. Everyone nearby watched the pair, with Ben rushing after them.

The last that any of them saw of Delaney Rae that evening was of Logan holding a paper bag to the girl's mouth as she hyperventilated and Ben closing the door of a dressing room behind them.

"What the fuck just happened?" Jack asked, his brows furrowed as he wandered up to a very confused set of men.

No one had an answer for him.