Things might not make sense now, but it will, I promise.

When I say "home" in this story, I don't mean where Eli lives. You'll see.

Eli

The lights dimmed and then fully went out.

Chanting of the crowd began.

The hit of the drums was heard.

And then, the screech of the singer's voice was heard.

And that's when he started to feel.

The music pounded into his ears relentlessly, giving no mercy, not that he was asking for any. He felt like he was the only one in that small underground venue. There was no one around him. It was just him and his vibrating soul. Every chord, every scream, every single noise had him feeling electrified. There was something about being in a crowd, listening to music, and feeling like you are by yourself that made him crazy. In a way, it was more of a home than anything that he'd ever had before.

He also liked how if you looked around, you could see everybody looking on stage, lost in whatever they felt. No one was worried about anything. No one was worrying and thinking about the next day. Everybody was in the now and had left everything else behind in a cloud of dust.

That was the power of music.

Eli felt his eyes close and his walls fall down. He swayed to the music, in the same motion of everyone else. His feet were moving by themselves and his mind focused on the sweet sound of the voice singing sadly into the microphone. The people around him, the people that came to this place every single weekend, the screwed up ones, swayed with him. The crowd was a unit, all in it for that same release and same kind of hope. It was easy to feel alone in a crowd, but with a crowd listening to music, it's hard to feel alone.

And then, like every weekend, realty caught up with the people in the crowd. The concert was over and would start again next week.

Everybody grumbled and started to leave. Eli simply stood there, staring at the now empty stage.

And as fast as his walls fell down, they came back up quicker and stronger than ever.

Clare

Her parents watched her. And it wasn't a nice stare where pleasant things happened afterwards. It was a glare.

What did she do?

Clare's heart was beating rapidly against her shirt. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if they could hear it. Sweat formed by her brow and her lips was being chewed off by her teeth.

She didn't need the lip anyway...

"Are you guys okay?" Clare asked, her voice trembling slightly. God, their stares were absolutely frightening.

Randall Edwards sighed and ran his fingers through his balding hair, of course, that was his habit, a reaction to everything.

Found out that his daughter is in the hospital for attempting suicide?

He ran his fingers through his hair.

Every fight that he has with his wife?

Oh look, his fingers are running through his hair. How unusual.

He almost had no hair left and Clare always wondered what he would do after he had no more hair.

Clare was still thinking when her father answered, his question odd, "Is it our fighting?" Clare raised her eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. Helen Edwards just sat. Silently.

"Is what your fighting?" Clare asked, honestly confused. She shifted in her seat, leaning towards her parents.

Her father just ran his fingers through his hair.

Her mom just sat quietly.

"Somebody stole from the church. The money was stolen from the offering bowl." Her father said gravelly, looking at Clare suspiciously.

"Oh!" Clare exclaimed. It made her sick to her stomach that someone would do such a thing. What kind of sick, twisted-

"The last person in the church was you."

Ah.

Clare was speechless. Did they really believe that she did that? Yes, she was changing this year, but to steal? Did they even know her at all? They couldn't possibly think that she'd actually steal.

Right?

Randall Edwards stood up when she didn't answer, answering Clare's unspoken question. Helen Edwards just stayed silent, not giving anything away. She gave a questioning look at her mom. Helen Edwards just turned away, giving Clare all the answers that she needed.

Yes. Yes, they did think that she stole.

Eli

Thanks, bud!" Matt said, slapping Eli on the back. Hard.

Matt like an older brother. He had been the first one to start the secret venue. And he had met Eli at one of the early shows and Bam!-they became good friends and Eli got a job of cleaning up afterwards.

And Eli didn't even care.

This place was his home.

"Hm?" Eli questioned, sweeping the concrete ground. Through the years, he had learned that people were pains and never took care of their crap, which left him to sweeping for two hours. He wasn't complaining but honestly, it's common courtesy.

"The money, man! You didn't have to, but because of you," Matt ruffled Eli's hair fondly, "We can have a few more shows! I mean, I got money from other people, but man, you gave me the mother-load." Matt sighed and counted the money that he had made that night.

"People just aren't feeling the music anymore." Eli murmured, looking around the place. In total honesty, the building was hideous, but that just added to its beauty.

"Nah, people just need to move on. Just like we all have to someday." Matt pointed his look at Eli, referring to something beyond the building. "Yeah, this place is great when you want to escape, but everybody has to face realty sometime." Matt started to pack up, his back was filled to the top with stuff, causing him to walk slow.

"I don't have to." Eli mumbled, looking down at the non-existent dirt that he wasn't picking up.

Matt chuckled and shook his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "No one wants to. It's just a part of growing up, kid."

Eli wanted to shake his head and stick his tongue out and throw a fit at the thought of growing up. Fuck, he wanted to be Peter Pan. He could fly away from home, meet the lost boys, become acquainted with pirates. Now, who wouldn't want that life?

But he kept his mouth shut and continued to sweep.

"Can you lock up? I need to get home." Matt asked, knowing the answer was yes. Eli nodded. Of course. "Oh, and don't forget to have the band members sign the wall, alright? ...Joe always forgets to ask them, no matter how many times I remind him." Matt pointed to the wall of signatures and headed towards the door. "Thanks, man. You're a great kid." And with that, he walked out.

You're a great kid?

Who the hell says that?, Eli thought and chuckled at the weird guy. Matt was just...different. A bit of a ditz, but his heart was in the right place.

Eli poured the dirt that he had gathered off the ground, and into the trashcan. Finally. He was done. He rolled his head around and tried to relax his stiff muscles. He wheeled the big trash can over to the side of the room and looked around the place, seeing if he could clean anything else. I mean, that's what happens when you have a home, right? You take care of it.

He shuffled his feet on the hard concrete floor and slid. He remembered doing that in his socks a couple of years ago. He'd run quickly across the room and then just slide. And then at the last minute, he stop himself before he ran into the wall. And he remembered the one time when he did that, but hit the wall. She couldn't stop laughing. Julia was-

Eli's stomach fell and he stopped shuffling his feet and closed his eyes for a moment. He suddenly felt a presence above him and he looked on the stage to find the band members looking at him.

"Do you have a sharpie?" The drummer asked awkwardly. Eli nodded silently and pointed to the desk next to the wall of names. The guys nodded and shuffled to the wall, taking their time to look at all the names.

Eli just wanted them to go, he had a headache and he had her laugh in his mind. Eli watched each guy pass the marker down the line, each one left when they finished signing. The last one to sign was the drummer and he looked at the heart with the two names in it. His gaze was curious.

"Eli and Julia. They must have been in love." The drummer murmured thoughtfully, reading the names inside the heart.

"Yeah, they must have." Eli whispered, his heart breaking, loudly. The drummer just nodded and signed his name quickly, his last name found its way into the Eli and Julia heart. He nodded awkwardly at Eli and left.

Eli walked to the heart and touched it with his fingers, the paint that they had used was flaking.

Maybe things that seemed permanent, weren't.

And he looked at the part missing from the heart, the part that had flaked off, and he turned away, not wanting to admit that the heart was not permanent