Rogue

Part One

Prologue [sorta]

Rogue.

It’s simple, really. It’s only one word. It’s simply five letters. It’s merely one syllable too.

But, the logistics of the word can’t describe the way it affects the people in the stadium.

Rogue has developed into one of those words that cause adolescents to squeal and most likely chant (it can’t be called singing for most of them, because most of them really can’t sing despite their delusion) some lyric that any enthusiast should know. It’s one of those words that adults deliberately evade just to maintain control of the conversation. It’s a fine specimen of distraction for those who need something to blame for not accomplishing anything productive.

But, here in the stadium, it seems as though no one was trying to avoid using the word. The word is plastered all over the walls, and Lucas almost gets a headache from all the information coming at once. He thought he would get used to it, once a couple of concerts passed, but dozens, and dozens later, he still discovers himself overwhelmed. The word coats the people’s arms, and legs, and clothes. He can’t even count how many logos residing in the scene, varying in colour from cotton candy pink to bleak black.

However, he smiles. The smile doesn’t reach his eyes though. He smiles, because even though it is just a simple word, it means the world to everyone in the room, especially to him, and his friends.

So he sings, his voice echoing throughout, and he grins again when the instrumental kicks in. He ignores the choreography he’s supposed to be doing, and instead, just takes in the scene. The melody resonates and he imagines that the flimsy building is vibrating. Although, it wouldn’t be from the music itself, but instead, the collective scream almost overpowers the speakers’ reverberation.

The fans sing along, and many people would argue that Rogue’s supporters’ voices completely ruin the song, but as far as Lucas is concerned, the song became one hundred times better. The fans, the workers, even the haters find themselves singing along by heart. The song was the groundwork of Rogue’s fame, and topped the charts for months, ultimately forming a fan base, that rivalled the most famous of bands. It birthed recognition from all over the globe, everyone identifying the song from the first few beats.

The crowd basks in their exuberance, and Lucas’ smile falters. They don’t even know. They knew something though: that something wasn’t right. For the entire hour, Rogue had been off, sending each other concerned glances every five minutes. But, ignorance is bliss, so they ignored everything: something they’d soon regret.

Lucas still smiles despite the fact that it would probably be the last time that they’d all be as jovial as they were. Reluctantly, he looks back towards his friends, secretly hoping that they’d all changed their minds with the taste of the stage, but all the papers were signed what seems like ages ago, and there’s no going back. His other band-mates don’t notice, but the drummer does. Peter looks up, still playing, his hands knowing the movement by heart, and gives Lucas a sad smile. And Lucas knows what it means: I’m sorry.

Lucas’ own horrified face when they proposed it was immediately enough to disappoint the rest. They knew it would be hard on all of them but Lucas’ own terror was a sign that the rest of the world would probably take it hard too. And Lucas’ own dread was enough to deal with.

Lucas turns back around. The song, to his luck, has a rather long instrumental, which gives him enough time to shake the devil off his back, tell himself to save the moping and to remind himself to dwell on it after the song ends.

His band-mates stare at each other after the song ends. Their eyes scream that it’s time. They all find themselves misty-eyed, frowns overtaking their once vibrant smiles. The crowd stares curiously, a silence hushing the room.

The band had formed in the midst of their teen years, when others turned to addictions, and Chorde, Petra, Adam, Peter, Kate and Lucas gravitated to music. They were merely strangers who flocked together in band room. Next thing they knew, they were upgrading from weekly garage practices, to vigorously preparing for stadium-filled performances.

It has been almost a decade since the name ‘Rogue’ was coined. The world had watched excitedly as couples formed within the group and ultimately, grew one baby larger from last year to the exuberance of all the fans – although, some who favoured Kate and Chorde separately weren’t exactly thrilled to lose their chance of ever being with them. The band had announced the arrival with teary-eyed smiles though. Now, the crowd begins to get more alarmed as no one says a word, and they anticipate some sort of announcement.

Lucas grimly glances at his friends. They all left their separate positions and the couples assembled together, as usual; Kate and Chorde hugging, and Petra and Adam holding hands, standing strong while Peter stands alone. Despite their strong facades, they all knew that none of them were alright with it. They had all talked about the relief that would come after, but as with all things about life, they might have wanted it, but it didn’t make the transition any easier, and they almost knew that it wouldn’t be as great as they predicted.

Lucas steps forward, the microphone shaking in his trembling hands. He reaches the foremost point on the stage. He brings the microphone to his lips, taking a breath before doing so. Everyone holds their breath too. Misty-eyed, he hesitates, stopping himself. He looks back reluctantly towards his band-mates hoping for some sign of reassurance which he doesn’t find. He doesn’t want to do this. He wants them to tell him that after this, everything will be the same, but they can’t and they all know it. His face almost begs for someone else to do it.

His friends’ faces seem to soften even more, as they walk towards him. He lets out a sigh of relief, as they stand in a line with him, putting their arms around each other and Peter gently takes the microphone away from him. Lucas almost smiles, as he imagines the Luter shippers flailing inwardly down below. Although, everyone knows deep down that Luter would never happen; Peter’s girlfriend would never left that happen.

The stadium is still hushed though. The Luter shippers are present but even the fanatic shippers are silent, as the entire crowd senses the overall tension on the stage, and their frowns deepen.

The silence seems even more deafening. Peter, looks to his friends, and finally says it.

“Rogue is done.”

It’s simple, really. It’s only three words. It’s simply eleven letters. It’s merely three syllables too.

But, the logistics of the sentence can’t even begin to describe the way it affects the people in the stadium.

*

Hey, guys. Yes, another short story that you probably expect never to be finished. But oi, 3/4 chapters are done! Also, they are quite short [which sorta makes sense, 'cause it is a short story] and due to the due date being the 26th, will likely be up tomorrow! This is dedicated to Ara, my lovely adora, whose birthday is coming up and whose competition this is for. Thank you for reading! Keep on smiling! Oh, ps. song on the side is awesome, although not the song that this is based off of; you'll see it later on [aka, next chapter]. OH. YEAH, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO COPY THIS. PLAGERISM IS NOT COOL. Have a good day!