And here's where it all... *Fanfare* comes together! No, I don't know why every chapter ends it "And _ loved it." They just do. Anyhow, I'm going to sleep now. See ya.
The fans were all talking and laughing and shouting, screaming when someone walked on stage and groaning in disappointment when it was just a technician or a camera guy. Suddenly, all lights in the building shut off, and a steady roar rose up from the crowd, punctuated by the screams of over-excited young women. Spotlights flashed in every direction, blinding people, but it was still possible to make out the six forms walking onto the stage, and the noise level in the room rose substantially.
The lights stopped flashing after a few moments and pointed towards the stage, making it possible to see the people better. One girl, her brown hair cut short, heavy makeup on her face, wearing a forest green tank top, jean shorts, and numerous bangles on her arms, jumped up and down and clapped her hands over her head as she made her way towards the back of the stage, screaming along with the audience; she picked up her violin and bow in one hand and waved them over her head, laughing and shouting and living it up.
Another brunette gave her a fond smile as he slipped his bass guitar on; he pumped his fist in the air and threw back his head, wolf-whistling, at the same time his girlfriend began waving her violin around. The sides of the man's head were shaved, and the hair on top of his head was pulled back in a short, tight ponytail. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt with a large blue flannel shirt over it, as well as dark blue jeans and his signature white stone necklace.
A second girl, also brunette, shook her head at her brother's antics and waved at the audience members, winking and shouting greetings that were lost in the noise; she hadn't picked up the microphone yet. Her hair was in its usual braid down her back, strands of hair colored green and blue and purple, shiny, neon colors that glinted in the light, but they had nothing on the light reflected off the sequins of her blue halter-top. She was a walking disco ball, all lit up and dazzling. Large gold hoops hung from her ears and she was wearing her ever-present black and blue necklace, as well as a black-and-white checked belt over her low-rise skinny jeans.
A second young man with dark, shaggy hair raised his drumsticks in an almost mocking salute to the audience, giving them a lazy grin to acknowledge their adoration. The brunette girl pouted; he blew a teasing kiss in her direction and continued on his way to the drums, twirling one stick around his fingers. The sleeves of his tight red shirt were rolled up past his elbows, and his black cargoes were too long, dragging on the floor and almost tripping him. A large, jagged scar, the result of some mysterious accident that only his close friends and family knew about, covered the left side of his face.
A third girl was on the stage, her black hair - bangs dyed green - falling in her face and her eyes staring unseeingly as another man helped her to the keyboard. She was wearing a short camo dress, knee high green socks, combat boots, and a smirk. When this third man placed her hands on the keyboard, she rolled her pale green eyes, though she did smile a little when he squeezed her elbow as he turned and made his way back to center stage.
This man grinned and pulled his black beanie with the blue arrow down lower so that it covered his eyebrows, and he jumped carelessly over the pile of chords in his way, his unbuttoned yellow shirt flaring out behind to show the band name printed on his t-shirt underneath. He grabbed his guitar off the stand and whipped it on at the same moment the brunette girl next to him grabbed her microphone and raised her fist in the air.
"Hello, Omashu! Are you ready to rock?"
The audience screamed.
And they loved it.