Sorry Not Sorry

- 21 🎸

At first I'm worried they think I'm a weird stranger or something, but Max looks up towards me and his eyes light up. He jogs the short distance over. "Hey, Xavier! You came!"

"Of course I did. Your costumes really good."

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"Thanks, I really like yours too!"

He leans on the fence. "I thought you were solo, you have a band?" I ask.

"Oh," he waves a hand lazily off in the three people's direction. "Yeah, we're in a band. I will be going up there alone a few times though."

I nod. "Cool, cool." I look up at the high ceiling.

"I'll see you after the show. I'll introduce you to The band." He smiles, showing off his pointy canines. "Oh, I'm starting soon." He looks back at the bandmates, who are standing t their spots on the stage.

"Good luck" I say, giving him a fist pump.

He smiles and waves, rushing up into stage.

He stands in frount of the mic. "Mic check, mic check." He says. It screeches, and everyone in the venue steps back, clutching their ears. "Woah, sorry about that." He holds it further from his face. "Well, that's what mic checks are for." He jokes, and everyone in the crowd laughs, including me. "Well, let's get into it. Welcome to Late Autumm Nights, and your watching Silvera Blue!"

He places the mic back in its stand and steps back, doing a test strum on his guitar.
"One, two, three, go!"

Watching them play is like watching art in motion. Soon enough, the entire club is alive with movement as people in the crowd bob their heads to the sound.

Kitty catches my attention and head bangs, sending her perfectly styled hair flying wildly through the air. I laugh at her and turn my attention back to the band. I don't want to forget this.

The purple lights overhead illuminate the band members, but Max definitely stands out.

After that song finishes, Max swaps the mic with one of the other members and swaps his electric guitar for an acoustic one. The boy singing now has white shaggy hair, black tipped on the ends. The white contrasts nicely with his tan skin.

I divide my attention to the other members. There are three more, so one mustn't have been talking with Max earlier.

One, the drummer, has wild ginger hair,  downturned blue eyes and plenty of freckles sprinkled on their face. She's wearing a blue leather jacket over a white shirt that says something on it, and a green gem choker  around her neck.

Another guitarist stands to the left of the white haired singer, he has really long blonde hair with pink beads threaded onto the ends of the braids. Everything else he's wearing is black though, including the black beanie thrown over his head, with little greens alien pins on the side.

The other band members other than Max and the next one aren't dressed up a s anything, but the next and final member is a girl with pointy black hair and skull makeup on. She seems tallented with the makeup though, so I can only assume she wears goth makeup looks everyday.

She wears suit pants and a blazer, both black with skeleton bones painted on. She has a short black mini skirt over the suit pants, which I admit is quite a odd concept, and if it were anyone other than her they probably couldn't have rocked it as much as she did.

After one more song, the band members filter off the stage and Max stands there alone. He sits down on the chair a worker dragged up for him, after nodding his thanks.

"This one's much calmer, but I hope you'll  enjoy it." He says, clearing his throat.

Max leaps into the heartfelt song, and I'm entranced. Until I hear a gruff voice behind me mutter "He's quite attractive, ain't he?"

I whip around go find the holder of the voice. "Who fucking said that!" I yell.

A few other people around point to the guy directly behind me who shrugs. "Yeah I did, so what?"

"That's a fucking Nineteen year old you're taking about." I hiss. "And as far as I can tell you're sixty."

"Listen, back up. I don't want to fight a kid."

"But you'll gladly call a teenage attractive?" I clench my fist. "You make me sick."

"Oi, mate. It's none of your buisness." He snickers.

"I think it is! It is my business!" I respond. Everyone in the vicinity is listening now. I point back at Max, "That's my friend you're talking about." Everyone except for Kitty, who seems unaware of the chaos behind her. She pulls me around using my shoulder to look at the stage.

"Don't miss this."

My eyes sparkle up at Max as he sings. "Wait I-" I'm cut off as I'm pulled backwards, slamming my head into the hard concrete floor.

-

"This is ubsurd. Why weren't you watching?" Kitty scolds me as she holds an ice pack to my head at the bar.

"That old prick called Max attractive. He's like, Sixty." That 'old prick' was luckily escorted form the building, especially since the multiple witnesses around us backed my story.

"I get it, but you didn't need to provoke him. What if you'd been hurt worse?"

"He's a fucking bastard and he deserves anything. I'll do it a hundred times over to protect M- my friends." Kitty sighs and continues holding the ice pack to the back of my head.

"Xavier!" Max runs up behind me, then rests a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

I sigh. "I'm fine..."

"What even happened?" He asks.

"Well, this ol-" I pause. I don't  want to ruin Max's good mood from the show. "Just some prick getting on my nerves, nothing more."

He sighs in relief. "It's a shame I missed the end of your show though, I was really digging it."

Max smiles. "Thanks. If you're not in any pain, I'm wondering if you'd still like to meet my band mates?"

I leap up off the chair, "Hell yeah!"

Max smiles,  grabbing my wrist to pull me along. "Come on, then!"

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