Metanoia [H.S.] Harry Styles.

1

                                   Maeve
The bus halted to a stop in front of the trashed up bar. I pulled the seatbelt off of my body and began grabbing my guitar case as fast as possible. Me and my band had been invited to a sing off a whole month before today and we still arrived late, arriving 30 minutes past the time given.

I looked over my shoulder to check on the rest of the band, watching them hurriedly scamper around the bus grabbing instrument cases and bags. The bus doors swung open and I could already hear the music from another band blasting from the inside.

"We need to hurry the hell up before we get disqualified!" I yelled towards the back of the bus where the other 3 were.

I jumped out of the vehicle, both feet hitting a puddle and splashing water onto my boots. I took my sunglasses off and glanced up to get a second look at the bar. It was a small building, mostly black except for the neon lights that read "Tusker's Bar" in neon purple over top of the large glass front doors. The place was old and almost falling apart, but it was still bustling with alcoholics and music lovers alike.

The other 3 band mates stepped out of the bus behind me as I began walking up to the front squeezing myself through a group of old men. I pulled the doors open, revealing the dark room filled with the musty smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

I already knew that Tusker's has a hard to please crowd. As I said earlier, most people who come to this bar are some sort of music lovers. The owner of this place always hosts "Battle of The Bands" and has musicians coming through every day to entertain the bar goers. If you don't play good enough for their standards and piss them off, they'll throw you out of the whole bar and maybe leave you with a black eye. I ignored my nervousness and put on a cocky front, walking pass the crowd to the backstage.
Late to show or not, I'm prepared to kick some ass tonight.