Memories.
sunshine,
“Let’s play a game of Russian roulette. I’ll hold the gun, you place the bet.” I jump in time with the music, banging my hands on the hard metal of the security gates to my left. The bass resounds in my chest, making my heart beat to the drum.
The energy in the air is like no other. Bands like this are what keep the metal music industry alive. My auburn hair whips back and forth and my brain honestly can’t process anything other than the flashing lights and pulsing crowd. It’s amazing how much music can alter your mind.
Sort of how, if I had been paying attention to anything other than the band in front of me, I might have noticed how I had caught the attention of a certain guitar player who had come to watch his friends play.
The energy somehow increases even more as the night goes on.
“I’m burning down every bridge we make. I watch you choke on the hearts you break. I’m bleeding out every word you say. Go to Hell for Heaven’s sake.” I scream the words with the rest of the crowd as adrenaline pumps through my veins. I tap on the shoulder of a taller guy beside me and ask for a lift. He grins kindly, uttering, “Fuck yeah! Be careful, though!” I surf the crowd, so caught up in the moment that I don't really care that some fifteen year old pervert just grabbed my ass or that my eyeliner is smeared. All that matters is that for once in my life, no one can tell me to stop doing what I love.
Well, no one but the huge ass security guard in front of me.
He escorts me down and points me towards the back of the crowd, not bothering to try and say anything over the loud music.
My favorite song begins just as I get back to where I was once standing and my more practiced, well executed screams sound a tiny bit over the blaring crowd.
“I’ve said it once, I’ve said it twice, I’ve said it a thousand fucking times. That I’m okay, that I’m fine, that it’s all just in my mind.” A few eyes in the crowd look over to me, impressed that a girl that tiny could make a sound so loud and powerful, but the rest of the crowd remains with their eyes glued to the set.
“Every second, ever minute, every hour, every day. It never ends. It never ends.” The notes ring in me pierced ears and I pause, taken aback by the memories that accompany the song.
But here again, recovery is a beautiful thing.
I came alone to this show, having just moved to southern California after spending most of her life in north Mississippi.
That’s why I was surprised when a heavy hand grasped my shoulder, followed by a ‘Hey, what’s up?’ I mentally snort at the question. ‘What’s up?’ is such a silly question. The answers were limitless. The sky, gas prices, unemployment rates, the list goes on and on. But in this context, the question was extremely absurd to me. Regardless, I puts aside all thoughts of how stupid social interactions are and instead smile sweetly at the tattooed ginger in front of me.
“Just watching this sick band! They’re pretty amazing, right?” He nods, chuckling.
“Yeah, they’re pretty sweet.” At this point I turn back to face the band, having had my fill of being social for the night. He taps my shoulder again and I face him, slightly peeved.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you wanna meet up later?”
Oh.
I'm not prepared for this.
Mentally sprinting through all possible replies, I settle with, “Sure. Let me see your phone?” He digs his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. My chipped turquoise nails type in my number and I title it ‘girl at the rock show’. If he didn’t understand the reference, I wasn't too sure how well this would work out. But to my enjoyment, he laughs as he reads the contact name.
“Blink 182 fan, huh? Well, I’ll see you later!” And with that he weaves his way through the crowd. I blink slowly, surprised at what had just happened. I had a kind of date. With a boy I didn’t know. Deciding that tonight is my one night dedicated to not overthinking anything, I simply shrug.
At least the boy had good music taste.
The energy in the air is like no other. Bands like this are what keep the metal music industry alive. My auburn hair whips back and forth and my brain honestly can’t process anything other than the flashing lights and pulsing crowd. It’s amazing how much music can alter your mind.
Sort of how, if I had been paying attention to anything other than the band in front of me, I might have noticed how I had caught the attention of a certain guitar player who had come to watch his friends play.
The energy somehow increases even more as the night goes on.
“I’m burning down every bridge we make. I watch you choke on the hearts you break. I’m bleeding out every word you say. Go to Hell for Heaven’s sake.” I scream the words with the rest of the crowd as adrenaline pumps through my veins. I tap on the shoulder of a taller guy beside me and ask for a lift. He grins kindly, uttering, “Fuck yeah! Be careful, though!” I surf the crowd, so caught up in the moment that I don't really care that some fifteen year old pervert just grabbed my ass or that my eyeliner is smeared. All that matters is that for once in my life, no one can tell me to stop doing what I love.
Well, no one but the huge ass security guard in front of me.
He escorts me down and points me towards the back of the crowd, not bothering to try and say anything over the loud music.
My favorite song begins just as I get back to where I was once standing and my more practiced, well executed screams sound a tiny bit over the blaring crowd.
“I’ve said it once, I’ve said it twice, I’ve said it a thousand fucking times. That I’m okay, that I’m fine, that it’s all just in my mind.” A few eyes in the crowd look over to me, impressed that a girl that tiny could make a sound so loud and powerful, but the rest of the crowd remains with their eyes glued to the set.
“Every second, ever minute, every hour, every day. It never ends. It never ends.” The notes ring in me pierced ears and I pause, taken aback by the memories that accompany the song.
But here again, recovery is a beautiful thing.
I came alone to this show, having just moved to southern California after spending most of her life in north Mississippi.
That’s why I was surprised when a heavy hand grasped my shoulder, followed by a ‘Hey, what’s up?’ I mentally snort at the question. ‘What’s up?’ is such a silly question. The answers were limitless. The sky, gas prices, unemployment rates, the list goes on and on. But in this context, the question was extremely absurd to me. Regardless, I puts aside all thoughts of how stupid social interactions are and instead smile sweetly at the tattooed ginger in front of me.
“Just watching this sick band! They’re pretty amazing, right?” He nods, chuckling.
“Yeah, they’re pretty sweet.” At this point I turn back to face the band, having had my fill of being social for the night. He taps my shoulder again and I face him, slightly peeved.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you wanna meet up later?”
Oh.
I'm not prepared for this.
Mentally sprinting through all possible replies, I settle with, “Sure. Let me see your phone?” He digs his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. My chipped turquoise nails type in my number and I title it ‘girl at the rock show’. If he didn’t understand the reference, I wasn't too sure how well this would work out. But to my enjoyment, he laughs as he reads the contact name.
“Blink 182 fan, huh? Well, I’ll see you later!” And with that he weaves his way through the crowd. I blink slowly, surprised at what had just happened. I had a kind of date. With a boy I didn’t know. Deciding that tonight is my one night dedicated to not overthinking anything, I simply shrug.
At least the boy had good music taste.
♠ ♠ ♠
So. New story. :))