Panic

1. adrenaline

Ecstasy; the adrenaline-ridden drug pumped through my veins as the roar of the crowd escalated. At that moment in time, for the split of a second I felt as if I were truly invincible. To conquer flight or the highest mountain seemed an effortless task compared to giving the performance of a lifetime to our dedicated fans.

Curls of pink hair whipped across my forehead whilst I twirled across the stage.  With the confidence and skill of any iconic fashion model I strutted down the runway, reaching out as I did so to touch the finger tips of the fans that swarmed before me.  

“Those fools who think they know us,” I screeched as I fist pumped the air in time with the beat, “who judge us and hold grudges.”

 “Don’t worry your pretty little head ‘cause their time will come soon enough,” the crowd sung in union.

I watched with amusement as the people in the mosh pit danced around, arms waving in the air as they screamed their throats dry. I felt a surge of pride when I saw that many were decked out in the bands official merchandise.  Our name and logo now appearing across everything from fitted hats, t-shirts, jewelry, scarfs and even, to my surprise, a pair of lacy knickers that were wrapped around a woman’s head.

Sensing a presence behind me, my suspicions were confirmed when the crowd’s screams managed to get even louder. It was then that I noticed the absent sound of the guitar.

Last time I had checked that wasn’t part of the plan. Though by the time realization had hit it was too late. A pair of arms had encircled my waist lifting me into the air and spinning me around as if I weighed no more than a rag doll.  He twirled me across the stage, the crowd whooping with excitement while I screeched very unflatteringly from the shock.

Once my feet were once again securely on the ground I spun on my heel glaring at my attacker who wore a smirk across his lips. Obviously amused by my discomfit he leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“You should have seen your face,” he chuckled, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

“You’re an ass,” I muttered back as I folded my arms defiantly across my chest.

In the background the loud thump of Kyle’s drum could still be heard reminding me that now wasn’t exactly the best time to pick a fight with a co-worker.

“Please don’t be mad Sky,” he said, obviously realizing that I was upset by his little stunt. “It was all Thom’s idea, honest.”

Rolling my eyes I pointed a finger at his chest. “That doesn’t mean you have to go along with it London,” I hissed, knowing very well the game that Thom was trying to play.

Trey shrugged his shoulders helplessly before he leaned down and placed his lips gingerly upon my forehead. I felt as if time had slowed down, or had just completely stopped all together as I looked up into his sapphire orbs. I had always been jealous of those damn eyes. They had everything my plain light blue eyes seemed to lack; depth, character, beauty. If I had one wish then I would, without a second thought, wish for those eyes.

As he began to pull away I reached out, brushing back a few strands of dark hair that had obscured my view of his eyes. He seemed taken aback by my small act of affection and was about to comment before the crowds hypnotizing chants of ‘Scanter and Trey’ brought us back to reality.

Bringing the microphone to my lips I sang, my voice echoing throughout the now hushed arena.

“Today is their judgment day. Where they’ll be forced to stand and take the podium allowing reality herself to doll out their punishment.”

Knowing the cue, Trey picked up his guitar from the stand beside him and began to strum the chords, our ‘moment’ now nothing but a faint memory.

“Love is like a bittersweet reality, my only real-,” I sung, my voice cutting off mid-lyric as I was suddenly   pushed backwards by a woman from the audience who had managed to clamber onto the stage.

Decked out in a ‘Archangels’ t-shirt and tight metallic leggings I watched with astonishment as she quite literally threw herself at our base guitarist Johnston.

The well-muscled young man stumbled back from the force of the sudden attack. Shock clouding his features as the fan wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.

“I love you Johnny,” she cried as tears of what I assumed to be happiness, trickled down her cheeks.

“Y-yeah,” he managed to stutter as he pleadingly glanced around the stage for any sign of help.

I tried to compose my features but it was too late. Throwing my head back I couldn’t help but laugh at the rather ridiculous scene before me. It didn’t take long before Trey and Kyle had joined in too, none of us bothering to assist our friend.

Unfortunately our entertainment for the night was short lived as in a matter of seconds our security team had removed the woman backstage. Not to say that she didn’t struggle. She put up quite a fight, kicking and waving her arms in every direction while she begged Johnston to accept her proposal of marriage.

“Right...” I said awkwardly to the crowd after the woman was finally removed. “While we’re on the subject, does anyone have any other proposals for Mr Tough-Guy over there?”

Laughter emerged from the mass in front of me while Johnston; missing half of his Nirvana t-shirt shot me a mocking glare. With a signal from the production manager who was standing discreetly off to the side of the stage I took it as my queue to end our final show of the tour.

“Thank you New York. We love you guys,” I screamed as I skipped backstage along with my comrades in arms.