I've noticed that there are times I don't think. Times where I act on impulses, but what are impulses exactly? Is it just a tick in time where you do something erratically brilliant or impossibly stupid, all just for an instant of gratification? It may be for a good cause or a horrible sin, but can your life change forever from one tiny incident of thoughtlessness?
For me, this moment in question was when I set foot in that concert. It was an underground scene with wires crisscrossing the floor and speakers hanging dangerously from cords above smoking heads. It reeked of pot and hookah, and was cloudy with fog and cigarettes. I was just standing in the back with my heels against the wall, wishing I had just gone home. There was an ominous bad feeling surrounding me, and I wish I could listen to that psychic part of my mind. Instead, I listened to the impulsive rebellious teenager that I sometimes was.
'This would be so much fun' I convinced myself earlier, 'a change of pace' and apparent change of scenery. I had my hands in my pockets now, and I felt the sweat soaking those pockets. If I was somehow called upon to dance with a girl, I hope she wouldn't notice. The entire room suddenly erupted into excited screams and clapping as it was time for tonight's headline of Club Spades; The NeverEnders.
I smiled outwardly at the banner for the band. More and more bands name their groups ridiculous things. The guitarist strolled out with his black V-shaped guitar slung behind him. He waved and the girls screamed his name, "Zander! Zander! Zander!" although I was sure his name was spelled with an 'X' because he thinks he's that cool.
Next the bassist walked out with who I'm assuming is the second guitar player, and the screams notably died down, they weren't as 'hott' as the first guy. Based on the shouts, one was named Shaun, and the other was Jackson.
The red curtains opened up to reveal a drummer doing a little solo for his intro. The screams increased and his name was Jay. He was a scary looking fellow with multiple piercings, and looked like a typical biker that would put my lights out. It was this point that I was about to leave because I could tell these guys had quite the following already, which meant I would get swept into mosh pits. I could be logical sometimes, and part of it was my antisocial tendencies. Suddenly the entrance was shut tight with three guards in front of it. I quirked an eyebrow and I tried not to panic. I had claustrophobia too. I stiffly turned around to find the singer had now stepped onto the platform, oh how they all screamed! I couldn't even hear his name! This concert was just like the ones on TV and YouTube, I don't know what I expected different. I guess it was the excitement I felt for this at first, it would be violent and crazy.
The first song was played right away; it had hard rock roots apparent in the intro, and had a little melody already. Then the singer flung his head back and forward as he belted out the first words, his dark hair plastered in his eyes already.
"I never meant to die alone, I never meant to be here, and I thought I would've flown. But I crashed down, down, down, into your blood red snow, your snow."
His voice was actually pretty okay; it was in tune for the most part and worked in harmony with the rest of the music. I wasn't too fond of the lyrical value. It sounded like he put some morbid phrases together to make it sound dark and powerful. It really wasn't.
Some of the things I hated about myself were that I could never enjoy anything on top of my quirks. I always had to analyze everything and pull out the bad points. It was if I couldn't allow anything to be just 'good', it had to be 'if it wasn't for this and that, then maybe, it'd be okay'. It was why I couldn't hold onto a girl, she finds me boring and depressing on day two. Being moderately good-looking only gets you so far.
I started to notice that a lot of the jumping fans were getting too close for comfort. I stepped off towards another wall of the huge room, being careful to not step into any puddles of discarded drinks. Another thing I hated was my internal dialogue. I do so much reading that my mind sometimes replaces things with more complex words, for example, I could have just thought 'I don't want to step in beer'. No wonder girls can't stand me; I make a sentence into a complex compound statement with some vocabulary tossed in, just to complete the word-fucked salad. Heh, word-fucked. I'm funny. Did that even make sense?
My quiet musings were interrupted from a punch to my face. My nose erupted into pain and my back hit the wall hard. I looked past the stars in my eyes to find a guy laughing at me.
"I wish I could forgive you, but I get so angry that all I see red. Like the red in your snow, your snow."
I snarled in pain and frustration and leaped after the guy. Impulse mistake number two. I grabbed his shoulders and threw him down. I wasn't sure what exactly came over me, I didn't know I had a temper problem. I turned around to walk away when a hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me back to receive another hit across my jaw.
"I never meant to die. I never meant to die alone. I never meant to fall, I didn't mean to lose it all."
I promptly countered with an uppercut but missed, and my misplaced hit made me lose balance and I hit the floor. The guy slung a leg over me and closed his fingers around my throat. I can't breathe. I can't…
"Lose it all for you…"
The music faded away.
I woke up on cold cement outside. Someone must have dragged me out here because my back stung like there were a million and two scrapes. I moved to get up and succeeded, but it was hard to breathe as my throat still felt a little closed. I coughed and retched until I was sure I was blue.
Finally I was calm enough to analyze my surroundings. It was dead silent outside, so it was either the show was long over or I was entirely somewhere else. I looked up to be slightly blinded by a lamplight. I looked back down to find my shoes and socks were missing, and for that matter, so was my shirt. No wonder it was fucking cold. I was glad whoever did this didn't like my pants. They were probably too tight to fit whoever attacked me. That was the bright side to wearing tight skater jeans. I slowly stood up and was met with an intense headache. After a few seconds it subsided and I was briefly thankful I was alive, until my right eye started to pound…
I heard a door creak open behind me, so I jerked around to find a guy staring at me curiously with a guitar case slung behind his back. He quirked an eyebrow much like I would have done.
"Um…" he looked me up and down; I looked odd wearing only pants. It was cold enough that I could see our clouds of breath.
"Zander, what the hell are you stopping for?" Another guy looked past him to find me, and he instantly rolled his eyes. "It's a bum. So what? We got to get to the next town by sunrise."
I stepped back to allow them room to get past me, stoned band members were the last help I needed. It was then I realized I didn't have my phone either, or my wallet. Well…fuck.
"What happened to you? You have one hell of a black eye." He smirked slightly, it was typical. One person's pain always amuses another.
"I got pulled into a fight during your stupid show and got knocked out, and apparently robbed." I touched my eye to find it was definitely tender.
"Damn, you must have been out for a while 'cause the show ended two hours ago. It's two in the morning." The guy Zander stepped closer to me to allow his band mates room to get through the door to the bus waiting just outside the alleyway. The last of them, the singer, looked back at me with a very dark expression. It wasn't my fault I got attacked!
"Yea well, I don't get into too many fights. You guys must be doing pretty good to have a tour bus." I changed the subject to be nice; I may need this guy's phone.
"Yea we have been. We're all pretty good with our…instruments." He smiled. It made me briefly wonder what the pause was for, but I disregarded it.
"So um, I know you guys are in a hurry, but can I borrow your phone? Or get some change for a pay phone? I live a ways off." I asked as politely as I could.
"Yea sure. Just follow me to the bus, we can actually give you a ride." He smiled even wider. I quirked an eye brow in confusion. It sounded like they didn't have time before.
"Um, okay then. My name's Drake." I offered politely.
"Alright, Drake, come right over here." He placed an arm around me which was pretty awkward and pushed me towards the bus. It's this point where I had a very important decision. Do I go on impulse by getting on the tour bus with a famous, yet unknown band, or insist on a payphone?
I got on the damn bus.