Sing For Me

Chapter Five: Arrivals

Although we arrived at the stadium an hour and a half early, it was already swamped. A large, quivering mass of over-perfumed fangirls screamed hysterically—meerkat sentries posted along the peripheral, searching for any precious glimpse of Babel. I shuddered. All it would take would be the mirage of a Babel foot, or arm—or even just a whiff of expensive You're the One branded cologne for a stampede to break out... or even a riot. The Goss once reported that Babel concerts had wagons full of riot police on standby—the way the hairs on my neck are prickling makes me feel like maybe that idea isn't as insane as it sounds.

Abbey walked straight past the writhing horde and continued up to the side of the building.

"Hey, wait up!" I yell at Abbey, stumbling over her stupid platforms. "Shouldn't we brave the mob of overzealous zombies?"

Abs gives me 'don't give me your shit right now' eyebrow. "Nope." She replies. "This hot seat thing comes with a fair few perks." She giggles, excitement boiling over, and even though I'm super-uncomfortable in these damned shoes I have to admit that her excitement is catching.

I link my arm in with hers to keep my balance as we walk round to the back of the building. I side-eye a suspicious-looking dude slumped against a wall, but Abbey tugs at me, chin held high, and confidently approaches him.

He's ragged, burly-looking, and he's sitting on a set of concrete steps that lead up to a garage-style roller door. Casually puffing away on a cigarette, a half-consumed six-pack of beer sits by his side.

I clear my throat. "Um... Abbey? Are you sure this is where we're supposed to go?" I tug back on Abbey's arm.

"He's our ticket inside," Abbey replies, confidently walking towards him. "If he looked like a security guard, he'd get mobbed—there was an incident in Bristol one time. Some of us Babblers are pretty hardcore, you know."

"Zombie fangirls willing to take on security guards?" I snort. "Really, Abbey, what do they think will happen – that they'll get past security and Babel will be so impressed they'll rip off their clothes and offer up a reverse-harem?"

Abbey says nothing—just shoots me another eyebrow. And okay, fair enough—I'll admit I deserved that one.

Looking up, the security guard takes a quick drag in, blows the smoke out of the side of his mouth, and stands up to walk towards us.

"Abbey, is it? You're the last to arrive. I'll see your ticket if you don't mind."

Abbey pulls the bright red ticket out of her evening bag and flashes it at him.

"You can see it, but I'm not going to let it go!" She giggles, though there's no mistaking the steel in her tone. The security guard chuckles—a deep, hearty sound that seems to emanate straight from his convulsing belly.

"No surprises there—that's what they all say, darl."

He hefts himself towards the door, checking over his shoulder to make sure that no one else is around, and raps three times.

"I got the last one here, Red. Open 'er up!"

The door opens almost noiselessly and a petite middle-aged woman hurriedly ushers us in.

"Thanks, Wayne. See you at intermission!" she replies.

"You two have a good time, now, but remember your manners. I don't want to see you kicked out of here like the last lot." Wayne the security guard shakes his head. "You broads get some funny ideas in your heads sometimes... almost had a lynching on our hands in Melbourne!" He winks at us and closes the door with a wheeze.