A Safeway parking lot. Cars pulled up, one by one. Red, white and blue. The engines bumped to a jangly beat as the doors opened, one by one, releasing the passengers onto the pavement. A trashed black van pulled up, drum beat kicking from the sound system. The door rolled open, releasing a cloud of smoke. The first one out was Reese, a long-haired California boy with a mischievous smirk. He was followed by Mitch, long legs first, who trundled behind him, giggling. Then came Greer, heavy set and merry. Next was Jeb, who swung out of the car in his leather jacket and sunglasses, cigarette dangling from his kissable lips.

As the smoke cleared, the van looked empty, but there was one passenger left. He exited from the driver seat. He was short and frail, with blonde hair. He looked unhappy about something. Jeb strolled around the car, knocking the blonde boy's shoulder and joining the crowd that was now forming around the parking lot. As Jeb strode through the crowd, people watched, trying to get his attention. Jeb smirked, heading toward the end of the lot, where the band was setting up, and began singing:

Load up on guns and bring your friends

He picked up a red electric guitar and pointed it at Greer, pantomiming firing a gun. Greer grabbed his chest, fake gagging.

It's fun to lose and to pretend

He swung the guitar strap over his shoulder and strummed in a swinging motion, making his way over to the drum stand, where Maggie, a dark haired girl in a DIY t-shirt was warming up.

She's over bored and self assured

He sang to her, kicking the cymbals with the toe of his Converse sneaker. She made a disgusted face.

Oh no, I know a dirty word

He joked, thrusting his hips in her direction. A boy from the sound crew plugged in the lead mike, and the sound pierced the air. Jeb spoke into the mouthpiece.

Hello, hello, hello, how low?

The crowd was starting to settle in, filling the parking lot, circled by their run down vehicles. In the front, people began moshing. Aluminum beer cans cracked open and smoke from cigarettes and other substances filled the air. Someone threw a bottle, knocking out a street lamp. Jeb grabbed the mike, swinging into action.

With the lights out it's less dangerous

He screamed. The base and second guitarist picked up behind him. The drums kicked in.

Here we are now, entertain us

The crowd screamed back, bottles and bodies flying simultaneously, as another street lamp was knocked out.

Near the front, the blonde boy stood, scowling, with his fists stuffed in his pockets. The crowd jostled him and he pushed back, singing:

I feel stupid and contagious

The crowd surged again and the boy fell forward, tripping toward the drum kit. He shoved back, and looking up, he caught the eyes of the female drummer. He shivered, and was sucked back in by the riotous crowd.

Here we are now, entertain us

The crowd screamed. Jeb took the microphone, climbing onto a speaker to escape the maddening crowd. He shouted fiercely, trying to keep them at bay, with his feet and his guitar:

A mulatto!
An albino!

A mosquito!
My Libido!

Unable to fight off the rioting crowd, he tore off his guitar. Welding it over his shoulder, he smacked it into a speaker to deafening applause.

Yay!

The blonde boys eyes widened, amazed by the intensity of the crowds reaction. He looked from the lead singer to the drummer, totally in love. He sang to himself:

I'm worse at what I do best

And for this gift I feel blessed

The crowd rushed the stage, and Jeb leapt back down, catching a beer in mid air and cracking it open as his friends surrounded him

Our little group has always been

He sang as Mitch, Greer, Reese and the select few herded back toward the van.

And always will until the end

The other joined in, passing around a bong as they walked. The blonde boy hung behind, consciously avoiding eye contact with Maggie, who was trying to rescue her drum kit from the rebels destroying the stage. Someone knocked over the high hat, and it fell at the blonde boys feet. He picked it back up, meeting her eyes.

Hello

He sang.

Hello

She shrugged back.

Hello!

The boys in the van screamed at the blonde boy, honking the horn. Someone tried to make off with the snare.

How low?

Maggie screamed, charging after them. The blonde boy stood by, forlorn, singing to himself.

And I forget just why I taste

He sang, brushing his lips

Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile

He smiled slightly. It looked out of place. He scanned the crowd, looking lost.

I found it hard, it was hard to find

The horn blared again.

Oh well, whatever, nevermind

He shrugged, turning back around and pushing his way toward the van.

Hello, hello, hello, how low?

The crowd jeered as two police car pulled up, lights flashing.

With the lights out it's less dangerous

Four policeman exited the car, welding their clubs and breaking up the crowd.

Here we are now, entertain us

The crowd began to scatter.

I feel stupid and contagious

The blonde boy complained, as Mitch pulled him into the car and away from the policeman.

Here we are now, entertain us

The crowd shouted one last time as they attempted to escape by cars or by foot.

A mulatto

A policeman cried, grabbing a boy by the wrists and cuffing him.

An albino

Another said, kicking another rioter.

A mosquito

Another shouted, beating down a boy that attempted to fight back.

My Libido

The last one said, forcing a girl to spread against a car.

A denial...

The kids repeated over and over as they were forced into the back of the police car. The drum kit lay abandoned on the lot, a hole punched through the bass.