Wildest

Crowdsurfing

The concert hall was always much smaller when it was empty. Rox was kneeling by the drum set, a gas mask strapped on tightly, as she peeled away the template of their logo she spray painted onto the kick drum.

"Are you sure we're allowed to do that?" Jenny looks out into the crowd, holding a hand over her eyes to mask the spotlight's burning flood.

"It's democracy..." she shrugs.

"You had a vote?" Jenny chuckles, sitting down next to her, sticking the guitar pick in her mouth as she adjusted it in her lap to cradle it, picking lazily at the chords.

"Well...I just sort of shouted it into a drunk crowd and they all went 'yeah sure' so..." Jenny clicked her tongue.

"It's your way or the highway, isn't it."

"Hey. What are they talking about?"

"Jesus christ!" Jenny jumps, strumming a false chord and making her eyes water. Pete appeared on stage out of nowhere, jutting his chin to the sparse arrangement of chairs in the audience. Jenny squints. Jones had his notepad out, it rested against the calf of his crossed-over leg, chewing on the end of his pen. He was leaning over to absorb whatever Scar had to say, which she was communicating with plenty of exasperated-looking gestures. She stopped from time to time to rub her eyes and relish the satisfying sound of Jones' pen on paper. "I dunno...he only ever eats pen caps when he's chasing after a lead."

"She only spreads her fingers out like that when she's talking, when she's pushing some weight off of her chest." Rox joins their glances towards the audience.

"You think I don't know that? What's she got on her chest? That she didn't tell me about? Maybe this Jones guy is making her upset?" Pete almost lunges himself forward as if he was about to crowd surf. Rox catches his ankle.

"Calm down, dude. Jones is one of people Scar has taught herself to trust as well. He's not upsetting her."

"Yeah, what the hell dude, he's my dad!"

"Something's not right." to thaw the war erupting in his brain, Pete did what Pete did best: dangle his legs over a drop and smoke. He sat on the edge of the stage, cupping his cigarette.

"She said she had something to tell me, and I thought it might be more useful to Jones instead." Jenny shrugs, "I've got no idea what it could be."

"As long as she doesn't drag this attitude into her performance tonight..." Rox rolled her eyes, "it's nothing but obnoxious when she doesn't acknowledge how fucking good at music she is."

"She's that great, huh." Pete grins into the darkness. "I showed her this path, y'know. The Darrington should be thanking me."

"Oh please." Jenny pushes him softly with the toe of her boot. "Scar's gonna be just fine." her words had not a hint of belief. They let themselves be flattened by the spotlight.