a navy sky.
air charged with six bodies worth of excitement.
one dark haired, blue eyed boy. hard worker, quiet.
one blond boy, broad shoulders, 6’3”, Russian accent.
one curvaceous blond girl. tousled hair, no makeup, all in black.
one red-head. girl. fiery. green-eyed.
one east-indian boy, wild black hair, slight accent, glasses.
one pale, raven haired girl. red lips, sarcastic sneer.
Mick
Vasily
Maira
Poppy
Abhijit
Ruby
on their way to a concert. a good one. the best one.
“favorite band playing two towns over? of course we all jump in the fucking van and drive on over. we’ve known about them since the beginning. you bet your sweet ass we’ll be there” –Poppy
track 6, playing on the tape deck. not that old fashioned…
waiting to compare, do they sound just as delicious live?
arriving at the club. two bouncers, no i.d.
“drive around back, say we’ve got equipment?” –Abhijit
“fuck no, didn’t work last time, why would it now?” –Ruby
“I say we go. if it comes to it we can get in some other way.” –Maira
“roof?” –Mick
parked van, three lots over. no one goes to run down furniture stores this late anyway.
sneak around, out back pipes twist like ivy crawling up the wall in the yellow street light. we will mimic it.
slinking up a filthy metal ladder, one by one. till we all stand on top. and look out past out city to where we know others live. people we’ve never met and never will. out to the black space to the west where we know the Pacific curls over melted sandcastles. perfect silence. perfect night.
“beautiful. yes?” –Vasily
“yes.” – Mick, Maira, Poppy, Abhijit, Ruby
down small, stale smelling carpeted stairs.
bursting in, joining the crowd in the middle of the set. noise and warmth from so many bodies, but mostly noise, washing over them with the feeling of sinking into a hot bath.
all turning to look at each other and smile, they all knew.
they knew that this is what life is.
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