You Awoke With A Start {COMPLETED}

CHAPTER III: The Unwritten Rules of The Mosh Pit

Chapter Three: The Unwritten Rules of The Mosh Pit

After that night, you moved back in with Aiden. Things weren't the same, sure, they'd never be the same after what you'd been through, but now the changes were tolerable. The silences between you two still appeared every now and again, but it wasn't awkward like before. It was comfortable. Well, maybe not comfortable, because in that silence you could tell the other was thinking about the accident. Or Nicole. The latter was usually how it ended.

Once things started getting back to as normal as it ever would be, you noticed Aiden take a sudden interest in metal and begin to stow away from alternative, punk, and classic rock. It wasn't like it surprised you, the anger had to go somewhere, and based on your own experience with Slayer and Pantera, they definitely had a way with getting it out of your system. At times, the lyrics weren't even what hit you the hardest, occasionally it was just the solid riffs, the window shattering bass, rhythmic drums, they all had an equal place in your heart. A good vocalist was usually just a plus. At the moment Aiden was extremely into Judas Priest, which you had no problem with.

In fact, there was a tour going down a couple towns away with Priest, Morbid Angel, and Venom. The band choice seemed rather odd to you, but you didn't care. Both of you had made a unanimous decision to sneak in due to your crippling debt.

As the day had come and you pulled on a Led Zeppelin shirt over your chest and a pair of unintentionally torn jeans (which, you later discovered to be an actual fashion statement). Aiden's wheelchair didn't stop him from dressing like the picture of a twenty-something metalhead. His signature leather jacket was pulled over the Slayer shirt you gave him a while back and his acid washed jeans were splayed over a pair of black boots that you'd never seen him take off. Dark, almost black hair framed his face in messy, unwashed waves and you knew that no one would feel sorry for him. In this contrast, his wheelchair was nonexistent. You hitched a ride with Nicole's cousin, the one person who didn't show up for the sole purpose of hoping they'd get some death-cash. Fortunately for the both of you, she was just as into music as you were. This was the hardest concert she'd ever been to, and you could tell by the way her pale, tattooed hands clutched the wheel meant she was nervous. It had occurred to you to encourage her or promise to keep her safe, but you physically couldn't push the words from your lips. No matter how innocent you believed it would be seen, you didn't want her or Aiden thinking you had any romantic intentions. Because you didn't, and you feared you never would again. You hoped that Aiden might develop a thing for her.

Rachel was her name, and she was a knockout. She was taller than Nicole, and reached your eyes. Her hair was black, but it turned to an unnaturally deep crimson as it reached her waist. A Nine Inch Nails shirt clung to her narrow stomach and leather pants hugged her wide hips. You didn't know why you weren't attracted to her. Aiden certainly was, in fact he pulled you away just before you got in the car to talk about how nice of a rack she had.

You caught yourself comparing her to Nicole a lot. Maybe that was the problem.

As you arrived, you pushed all thoughts of love, loss, and anything pertaining the opposite sex world over out of your head. Now you were going to focus on the music, and the music alone. You'd gotten there a little late, Judas Priest was nearly done, but it was for the purpose of sneaking in easier.

The venue seemed bigger on the outside, once you both snuck in a door for the band members and shimmied your way through the crowd, you were surprised by how little room there was. You had gotten separated from the other two and decided on edging into the center of the crowd. Lights exploded around you and the vibrations from the bass ran up into your feet in a slightly ticklish fashion. You weren't a very big Priest fan, but you did enjoy the pot in the air that gave you a secondhand high. The pain in your legs and back eased after that and once Morbid Angel was preparing to steal the show, excitement squeezed your stomach in a vomit-enducing euphoria. Something changed in the crowd, everyone seemed to be hit with the same excitement, and a strange thing occurred. People began shoving one another in anticipation, which at first you thought was anger. But the smiles that twisted the men's faces as they swung wildly at one another, hoping to connect with something told you otherwise. More people began getting infected with this need to pump one another up, and soon you found yourself being shoved, lightly at first, but gradually becoming more aggravated. But once there was an ear shattering guitar riff to "World Is Shit", everything changed, something snapped.