Restraint is Useless Here

Chapter Ten

If there was ever a perfect way to distract oneself from a horrible breakup and persistent incoming calls from a psycho ex-boyfriend, it was experiencing an Avenged Sevenfold concert.

As the show neared its end, the band's energy never dwindled. The lights lowered and the band walked offstage, leaving cacophonous applause in their wake. The haphazard cheers crescendoed into two distinct chants.

"Sevenfold. Sevenfold. Sevenfold."
"We want more. We want more."

After several moments of darkness, the backdrop exploded with light, geysers of flames erupting from every direction and illuminating the riotous crowd. The band walked back out onto the stage, launching into their final song.

The air grew thick and heavy as the evening progressed, exacerbated by the thousands of sweaty, musty bodies bouncing and shoving to their favorite songs, but Anna didn't care. She could've watched Brian forever.

With a voice that complementarily soared just above Matt's, he sang a beautiful tenor harmony. Watching his fingers expertly speed over his guitar as if they had a mind of their own, her jaw fell slack. Arrogant as he was, Brian undersold himself. He was so, so painfully talented. He seemed to feed off the crowd's energy, sticking out his tongue as he nailed each solo and playfully interacting with the fans closest to the stage. She and Maria were about 50ft from the edge of the stage, and Anna tried to suppress the sliver of envy of the fans in the pit—how they loved him, how they screamed for more, reaching to him in hopes of grasping his hand. She thought she saw his eyes searching in her direction a few times, but chalked it up to wishful thinking. The stage was his playground, these fans his kingdom.

She didn't stand a chance.

********

After Maria had departed and Anna had arrived at Johnny's Saloon—Val and Anna took her Corolla while Brian's dad picked up the guys to go get Jimmy's Suburban—Anna felt like an entirely new person. The concert atmosphere, the music rush, and riding the surrealistic wave of hanging with this entourage had all but erased Jack from her mind. Naturally, Val had asked about his absence upon the girls' arrival to warm-up, but Anna casually explained that she and Jack were taking time apart so he could focus on med school. She breathed a sigh of relief when her friend didn't press further, Val's type-A personality was quick to redirect itself to minding the Ps and Qs of pre-show duties.

A thrill energy of energy jolted through Anna's veins from top-to-toe as she strolled down the sidewalk toward the bar's entrance, her arms looped with Val's. She felt a happiness so all-encompassing that nausea struck her, like her body didn't know how to process the sensation of joy. Anna loosed her arms from her friends' as she strode ahead, stiletto heels clicking against the concrete as she pirouetted forward again and again with arms arched delicately above her head as she twirled.

"I never want this night to end," she exclaimed in sing-song. "Tell me it doesn't have to."

"It doesn't have to!" Val laughed loudly. Never to be outdone, she joined in with her flawless pirouettes. She and Val continued dancing and giggling drunkenly despite the fact that neither had touched any alcohol yet. The girls hadn't seen each other in years and still fit together comfortably, like an old sweatshirt—albeit half of it was primly coiffed and rhinestone-studded with killer lipstick.

"Okay, one last thing," conceded Val. She crossed her arms and turned to Anna. "Grand jeté or bust, Sinclair. Let's see those ballet chops."

Anna's finger shot out at Val, her expression bursting with wordless agreement that this was the best idea ever. Removing her shoes, she planted her forefoot onto the cool cement with the opposing foot pointed behind her. Feeling light as a feather, she took two steps before bursting into a mid-air split—and felt the roll of her ankle as she landed, scattering the contents of her purse across the concrete.