So Now, Run

I remember that warm, early fall afternoon like it was yesterday. Five years later and this one day is the catalyst for how my life has turned completely upside-down. The best way to describe how and why I’m currently in the position I’m in is to start at the beginning.

Fall of 2013.

It was late September and I am in the midst of my last fall semester of my senior year of college. Graduation looms on the horizon just a few short months away and my future is going nowhere but up. Senior year in college compared to senior year of high school is like comparing yogurt to basketballs; incomparable. Senior year of high school is a giant party consisting of where to spend the next four years of your freedom and parents’ tuition money. Senior year of college consists of making sure you have enough credit hours to graduate, looking up and setting up job interviews for potential jobs post-graduation, possibly researching and looking for grad schools, apartment hunting, finding “the one”, and learning to be completely free of your parents’ financial safety net you’ve been so securely wrapped up in the previous 20 odd years of your life. One thing is for sure, senior year of college is stressful and I’ve had to do the most “growing up” this year than any other year of my life. However, growing up doesn’t mean that I can’t still have fun! If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t sacrifice all the fun things in life in order to be responsible. There is a delicate balance between the two; at least that’s what I was convincing myself of as I made the spur-of-the-moment decision to drive home to Tempe for a concert that night.

Like I said before, senior year of college is stressful. I needed a stress reliever. Everyone’s stress reliever is different, but mine happens to be music. There was a band that I’d been a fan of for a while and wanted to see perform. I couldn’t get any friends to come with me due to busy schedules, so I found myself driving the laborious two hours to my hometown of 21 years that fateful afternoon after classes ended. Luckily for me, I had finished all of my homework for that week a couple days prior. (Strange occurrence as I ALWAYS have homework of some kind to do. It was like I was fated to go to this show.) Tickets were super cheap, $15 to see a favorite band at a small, hometown venue is a pretty sweet deal if I do say so myself. I was driving home on the interstate, singing along to my driving playlist, and reasoning with myself that I was indeed being responsible.

Something you need to understand about me, up until this particular moment in time, I’ve always been Mrs. Responsible. You’d never find me breaking rules, curfew, drinking, smoking, anything. Not to sound self-righteous, I just never wanted to deal with the consequences of those actions and I also have the guiltiest conscience. If I were to actually do any of these things, I would give myself shit about it forever. I know from past experiences of lesser actions. My point being, me making this sporadic trip home for a concert, by myself, on a school night at a local club was totally uncharacteristic of me. What can I say though? This band is pretty awesome and they make great music. They are coming to my hometown, tickets were cheap, I finished my homework for this week a couple days ago, and my early class tomorrow was cancelled. How could I NOT go to this show? Exactly my point. I was going. Period.

I packed light with the intention of staying at home for the night. I knew I would be too exhausted to drive back that night after the show considering it started so late. I hoped my family wouldn’t mind me dropping in for the night considering how long it had been since I had actually seen them. When I left for college four years ago, I left the house without looking back. Though I lived such a short distance away, I refused to go home. Life at home sucked. My parents…well, I’d rather not get into what they were like right now. But the one person I missed the most had to be my youngest older brother. He was just over a year older than me, but those who didn’t know would swear we were twins. Honestly, I never saw the resemblance, but whatever. He and I were so much alike it was uncanny. I got most of my sense of style and music taste from him. God I missed him. I wonder if he’d be angry to see me. I haven’t spoken to him since I left for college and I’ve regretted it ever since. I did however keep up to date with what was going on in his life. He happened to be 1/5 of a local band here that last I heard, have been doing great things. I’d have to ask him about it. When I moved to start college they were in the process of releasing their second studio album.

I shook my head to dismiss the memories, and to wipe the tears I found trickling down my face from me being such a sucky sister and not keeping in touch with the brother I loved to death. I looked and saw the sign for my exit and pulled off. My vision was becoming obscured from crying so I pulled off into a gas station and parked in one of the spots. I pulled down my visor and saw the wreck my face had become. Damn, and I worked so hard on my makeup for tonight. Good thing I brought my makeup bag with me. I reached over and opened the glove compartment, grabbed a couple napkins, and proceeded to wipe the running mascara and eyeliner from my face. I heaved a deep sigh and worked to calm myself down to keep from crying when I was startled by a knock on my driver window. I jumped in surprise to see a bewildered man in his 60s, concern laced in his features, asking me if I was alright. I gave a small smile and nod in response. Not completely convinced, he nodded and proceeded to walk over and get into his car which was parked to the left of mine. I looked at the clock on my dashboard and saw that I still had a little over an hour before the doors opened, so I decided I would grab some food and would drive over to the club afterwards.

Upon arriving at the club a few minutes before doors opened, I was surprised that there was only about five people in front of me. My past experiences at general admissions concerts was pretty cut-throat. Typically I would be fighting off teenage fan girls wanting to get a barricade spot with the hopes of hooking up with a band member. Not me. My brother was in a band already and I was all too aware of that lifestyle. Not one that I wanted for myself. I heard too many horror stories from my brother and his band mates about their encounters with underage fans and trying to keep them at arm’s length. However, I won’t deny that I enjoy barricade spots at shows. Granted it is for completely different reasons than hook ups. When I listen to music, I want to experience it. When listening through my headphones or computer speakers, I always try to create an ambiance that reflects what I’m listening to. With concerts, I want to be in the midst of the crowd and be right in front of the stage; feeling the adrenaline of those in the crowd around me as they sing along to their favorite songs as well as feel the pure excitement and energy coming from the players as they perform their songs. There is no parallel to going to a live show to me. It’s an experience I can live, and re-live and it will be different every time. It’s almost like an addiction. It’s my escape. It’s my stress reliever. This is why I HAD to come to this show tonight. Not to be irresponsible. Not to hook up with band guys. I came to this show with the sole intention of letting go of the stress I’d been harboring over the last couple months since school started.

I stood in line for a brief fifteen minutes before they let us in and showed us to the respective stages where we would be seeing shows that night. I had never been to this particular club before, but apparently the stage my show was at was extremely small. I entered the room, and to my right was a small bar with the bartender chatting up a couple of the people already seated there. In front of me was a stage that looked like it could barely contain all the equipment of this small four member band, and to the left of the stage was my safe haven; a small balcony that led to the stage, containing a few bar tables and stools directly next to the stage. All the perks of being close to the stage, without having to stand and be pushed around by people standing by you. I saw my golden spot and claimed it. Once I was settled, I looked around me and saw that there was only about eight people in here, none of which appeared to be attendees. These eight guys kept going back and forth from the bar, to the merch table set up 3 feet away from the bar, and into the room connecting to the stage off the small balcony I sat at. I assumed these eight guys had to be the band I came to see as well as their opening act. Considering this band has been around for a couple years and was growing in popularity, I was surprised that they had booked such a small venue.

Time passed, and the show started half an hour late. Almost no one was in the room. So I could’ve easily stood right against the stage no problem. However I was definitely in the minority at this show. Usually I was one of the older ones at a show, and was battling pushy, pre-teens. Not that they’re all that way, but tell me one show you’ve been to that consists of a younger fan base, and tell me that you haven’t dealt with the same thing. Exactly my point. So I felt completely out of my element when I looked around and noticed that most of the people here were at least in their mid-twenties and standing a good six to eight feet from the stage. I felt like a real “adult” for once, as weird as that sounds. That’s beside the point. I came here for a show, and I was going to enjoy it. The opening act wasn’t too bad, they were a local band that I’d never heard of. They performed a short 5 song setlist before bequeathing the stage to the main act. I got my camera ready because I wanted to establish my portfolio more and concert pictures were a great way to do that. It was difficult to remember to take pictures because I found myself getting so caught up in the performance. I was already a fan of the music, but gosh, seeing them live was a completely new experience altogether. I knew these guys were good, but my gosh. I’d definitely have to tell my brother about them. I have this gut feeling he would like them. They are a band that definitely fits into our quirky music taste.

The show ended, much to my dismay, but I wanted to stick around and talk to each of the members. I was so in awe of that performance that I had to pick their brains. As a partial, fellow musician, I definitely wanted to converse with them about musical influences and musical processes with their music. I first talked to their drummer at the merch table momentarily before he told me he was going to get the rest of the band so they could meet me. I felt very honored. I said brief hellos to each of them, but there was one certain bass player that I seemed to make quite the connection with. His name was Nick. I had noticed him on stage, and noted quickly that he was very easy on the eyes. Seeing him this close and talking with him, definitely added to my nerves, but I refused to let my inner 12-year-old fangirl come out. I was going to be a cool, calm, and collected adult. Whatever the hell that meant.

He was extremely friendly. He greeted me with this, ugh, utterly amazing smile. He had short brown hair, and enough scruff on his face to show he hadn’t shaved for the last few days. He was covered in sweat and reeked of smoke, but damn, it was hot. I had never found myself so attracted to another male in my entire life. We stood there and talked for what seemed like forever. We talked mainly about his band’s music and upcoming releases for them. I was telling him how I was so happy to finally see them live. Somehow it slipped in the conversation that I had driven two hours here on a school night to see them.

He stopped me mid-sentence. “Wait, so you mean to tell me, you went to class today, and drove two hours here, just to see us perform, and you still have class in the morning?!?”

I nodded meekly in response.

“Okay, c’mere. Give me a hug. That’s amazing and absolutely means the world to me. It’s because of people like you that make all of this worth it.”

He then closes the short distance between us and engulfs me in one of the biggest, and best, hugs I’d ever received. We stood there and hugged for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few seconds. It was however, longer than your standard one or two second hugs. This was a REAL hug. It felt utterly amazing. In those few seconds, as weird as it sounds, I felt like I was right where I needed to be. I don’t know how else to explain it.

He released me from his hug and we continued to talk. He then realized that I probably hadn’t met the rest of the members yet. I shook my head because I had only met the drummer and one of the guitarists at the time. I felt terrible because I was such a huge fan of their music, but had NO idea what their names were. He was asking me if I’d met Brad, I gave him a look that said I had no clue. He chuckled a bit and told me that was their lead singer. I shook my head no. He then asked if I’d met Tom. I once again gave him that ‘I have no idea who the hell you’re talking about’ look. With another slight chuckle and roll of his eyes he says it’s their keyboardist, their newest member. Now knowing who these two were, I shook my head no. He takes a gentle hold of my right hand, and leads me over to Brad and Tom who happen to be standing together talking with a couple others that were in the crowd that night.

Nick interrupts them. “Guys, hey, sorry to interrupt, but you guys need to meet this girl. She’s amazing. She drove two hours here on a school night in order to see us perform.”

Wow. What an introduction. I kinda looked at him from the corner of my right eye with an arched brow, and he smiled and winked a bit at me with a twinkle in his eyes.

Tom and Brad both introduced themselves and we talked for a very, very short time before they continued their conversation with the two they were talking with before. I turned back to Nick to see him standing there, with this sense of approval lacing his face. In a weird sort of way, it was like he was introducing me to his family and was wanting approval. I know this all sounds so far-fetched and ‘yeah right, that would never actually happen’, except for the fact that it actually did. That’s the best part.

Nick and I stood there staring at each other for a couple seconds before he takes hold of both of my hands and says, “Hey, so I really want to stay and chat, but I really need to take a smoke break. But I’ll catch you around. We plan on coming back here in a few months. I better see you at our next show.”

I laughed a little and said, “Don’t worry, you will.”

He was about to let go of my hands and go out back to smoke when a thought seemed to cross his mind that stopped him. “What’s your name? I want to make sure I remember because I will definitely be looking for you the next time we come here.”

I smiled and replied, “Charlie. My name is Charlie.”

“Charlie.” He smiled. “I’ll remember that. I’ll be looking for you.” With that he winked at me, smiled, and made his way out back to smoke.

What naïve, 21-year-old me didn’t realize at the time was the amount of severity and truth his statement held. “I’ll be looking for you.” That statement and that night quickly became the reason I found myself five years later wishing to relive that night and choose to not go to that show.