chrysalism. n.
the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension...
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New York, New York. May 28th, 2017. 7:06 pm. The Band's Floor.
Malone stood in her bedroom in front of the mirror, hating what she saw. Her legs and arms, she considered strong. They were larger because of the muscles she developed carrying heavy gear and running around on stage. But looking at her stomach, she pinched the skin and frowned. She had always carried more weight there than she wanted to, and it made her more insecure than anything else. She sighed and pulled a black t-shirt over her torso, tucking it stiffly into her black jeans. She walked over to her closet and grabbed her white Doc Martens and the lucky yellow leather jacket. She gave her hair another flip, trying to be happy with the way it looked. Her sharp cat-eye eyeliner contrasted the blown out lower lash liner. She felt the most uncomfortable right before going on stage but always did it anyway because she loved the rush she got from being up there. She stepped out of her bedroom and into the hallway, hearing her bandmates converse in the kitchen. She rounded the corner and was met by the boys, all of them wearing balck, a staple in their closets.
"Are you ready?" Cole asked, grabbing his guitar case.
"I guess," She breathed, grabbing a bottle of water.
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Bucky sat in the corner of the massive central living room, alone. He scanned the room looking at all the people Tony invited. They were mostly his friends, Bucky only knew the Avengers. He felt out of place, just like always; even though he was supposedly the guest of honor, he felt invisible. A member of the catering staff walked past Bucky and handed him a drink, even though Bucky knew he wouldn't feel anything from regular alcohol, he drank it anyway; he wondered if it would have a placebo effect on him. He rolled his shoulders back, trying to get comfortable in his sport coat and a maroon button-down shirt, smoothed his black dress pants as people turned towards the stage at the front of the room. The lights in the room dimmed, and Bucky stood. He watched as the band took the stage, not giving an introduction before flying into a guitar-driven song Bucky had never heard before.
"Gonna play you a song, a little bit of rock and roll," the brunette girl sang. Bucky still wasn't sure of her name, but he loved her voice. He listened intently, his hands in his pants pockets. He smiled to himself and felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to come face to face with Steve.
"Whaddya think? We never had any music like this," Steve laughed.
"It's different, for sure," Bucky replied with a smile.
"Listen," Steve raised his voice over the music, "Do your best to have a good time, come find me if you want a real drink."
"Oh, so you're the bad influence now? I go to Wakanda and you just take everything from me, huh?" Bucky laughed, loudly. Steve just smiled, gave his friend's shoulder a pat, and walked away.
"We wanna thank you guys for coming out tonight, and thank you Mr. Stark for having us here," the girl on stage panted, hanging on to the microphone stand to hold her balance. "To my right here, our bassist, Ryan Ferris!" The crowd cheered for the bass player. "To my left, my oldest brother and best friend, Cole Taylor! Behind me, the heartbeat of the band and the middle child, Kenny Taylor!" She smiled at her bandmates.
