Reckless Serenade

one | quinn

i. in which the readers catch a glimpse of quinn stevens' exciting life

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THERE WAS ABSOLUTELY nothing better than feeling the heat of those silver stage lights as they flash neon colors onto your back. There was nothing as melodious as hearing the frantic onslaught of cheers as soon as you take one step onto that obsidian paradise.

To think that after countless tours and performances, I would get bored of the same routine, the same songs, or the same people. Let me just say that I think that's absolute bullshit. The truth is I don't think I could ever tire of this high life I'm living. I had the world in my palms and glory illuminating from my fingertips.

Six years ago, I learned that when the music hits you: it hits hard, and it just so happens that music managed to knock me into a boxing ring against an opponent by the name of Life. Now, Life and I were constantly at each other's throats, but I manage to scrape through. Especially during times like this when I feel invincible and infinite. When I'm just downright reckless.

I was currently in a room, a simple four-sided trap colored in with beige and decorated with splashes of warm brown. In the opposite side from where I sat on a white, leather couch alongside my band, a mirror faced us, keeping us locked in a showdown where no one can turn away. Our appearances mesmerized us - not because of our outfits or our hair or anything clearly materialistic, but because like always, we were left wondering how we were just a few of the lucky ones.

I stared at the young female towards the center, barely visible behind the bulky shoulders of the two, lean men on either side of her. Her eyes were alight with sparks of excitement and anticipation, shining a bright, amber hue. I took note of the cascading waves of light caramel that draped over a single shoulder, the semi-shaved undercut behind her pierced left ear. Her lips were full and bloody red, standing out in contrast from her too-dark outfit comprised of a showy, laced tank top, skinny jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens. I smirked, and the girl in the mirror immediately copied.

An inanimate television set sat in the corner with magazines strewn carelessly on top of it. In between the mirror and the couch was a simple coffee table with browning stains from cups of Joe made by previous users of the dressing room. A silver rack of outfits was pushed into the opposite corner, along with the pile of clothes we originally came in.

"Joel, how many people do you think are out there?" A petite voice radiated from my right. It belonged to our bassist, Ebony. She was a tiny little thing, though I was the child of the group. Her curly black locks were unmanageable as always but she managed to pull it off with style and flourish. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of emerald that I wanted so desperately, and she wore a black dress adorned with rainbows, bright yellow leggings, and Converse. Ebony was my best friend, practically my sister.

 "Judging by how the floor is vibrating right now, I'm guessing over a couple hundred?" The boy directly to my left replied. That was Joel - our drummer. He had the most remarkable baby-blue eyes that pooled towards the irises, a grin to make the ladies swoon, and the perfect chocolate brown, boy-band haircut to prove it. Evan and I would often mock his resemblance to a boy band member, and every time he would simply find a new excuse to defend his flirtatious hairdo.

Evan was our second vocalist, besides myself, and presided in rhythm guitar. Unlike Joel, he was quiet and reserved. The two were the complete opposites of their hairstyles - Evan having a dirty blonde, bad-boy quiff. Sometimes their differences made even me question how they were related. The two were both dressed in flannel, rocking the old-style blue jeans, and wearing similar shoes.

"Another sold out show," I hummed, as if the prospect of selling over six hundred tickets meant nothing. I leaned my head against Evan's shoulder, continuing to stare at the large mirror in front of us. “Typical. When was the last time we didn't have a full house?"