Page 43 of Crash & Burn

And I’ve never seen Eddie so in his element. I thought he looked good when he was practicing, but that’s nothing compared to watching him on stage. He does not miss a beat and looks like he is having the time of his life.

Watching him reminds me of how it felt to watch Nico. Every doubt, every trace of sadness, has melted away. All that is left is peace and love for what he is doing.

I thought it would be challenging to find the shots, but it’s seamless, and I’m having so much fun. I find myself singing along to the songs, and I forgot how good it feels to listen to music and just enjoy it.

Their second-to-last song is finishing up, and I got all the shots of the crowd I wanted, so I show my photo pass to security to get back into the crowd. The venue is standing-room only, so it is basically just a big hall with a stage and a bar lining the back. Now that the crowd is significantly bigger than it was at the beginning of their setlist, I have to squeeze through more people to get to where I need to be.

My skin begins to prickle at the closeness of the people around me, but I try to ignore it and focus on my task.

As I politely push my way through, saying, “Excuse me,” and trying not to make anyone think I am stealing their spot, I am stopped by a group of guys that are either ignoring my attempts to get past them or they are too invested in Cross My Heart’s show to notice me.

I try to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume the latter, but with each step I try to take forward, they won’t budge.

No, it is almost as if the guy closest to me widens his stance to make it harder for me to get through.

I’m trying to go the opposite direction of the stage, so most people are letting me through with no problem because I’m not trying to make my way to the front, but this group of guys, or maybe justthisguy, keeps blocking my way.

The song ends, and Mateo starts announcing that this is their last and most popular song, and they can’t wait to sing it for everyone. I’m bummed that I’m missing this shot of him talking to the crowd as Theo and Silas move to the center to stand next to him, so I get a little less polite as I try to make my way through.

“Excuse me,” I say as I take a step forward, but the guy in front of me just looks down at me and then back up at the stage.

“I saidexcuse me,” I try again, a little more stern this time and try to step forward, but Mr. Doesn’t Want To Let Me Through actually takes a step in my direction to stop me from getting through.

Now, I’m pissed because the band is about to start the last song, and I donotwant to miss these shots. This is their first big show as an opener, and I don’t want to miss their last song.

“Dude, I’m not trying to steal your spot,” I start to step and feel him tense rather than move out of the way, but I don’t back down. Instead, I use some strength to push past him. He is bigger than me, but only a few inches taller, but he staggers a little off balance. Luckily, I’m out of there before he can say anything.

I hear him yell to one of his friends, “What a bitch,” as Theo’s opening riff starts, but I’m able to get to the outskirts of the crowd in no time for the shots of the guys.

The last song finishes, and I put my camera down to join the clapping and yelling for them as Mateo says, “Thank you! If you’re interested in Cross My Heart merch, please see our booth in the back. Can’t wait to see you all soon!” The flannel he was wearing at the beginning of the set is now around his waist, and his brown hair is sticking to his forehead. Theo throws his guitar pick to the crowd before joining Mateo in the middle of the stage as Silas throws his Cross My Heart trucker hat to a girl he was probably eyeing the entire show.

Eddie stands from his drums and comes up to join the other three. He took off his T-shirt after the second song, and I can’t blame him. It is fucking hot in this venue, and he did the whole crowd a favor playing the drums in nothing but his black jeans and gold chain.

I snap a couple pictures of the four of them as they wave to the crowd and then hug in a quick huddle as the lights on stage go out and the bar lights go on.

People start moving towards the back of the place to grab drinks before the next opener, and I can’t wait to sneak a peek at the shots I just got.

I click the display button on my camera and instantly feel a rush of emotion as I see the last picture I took. The four guys all have their arms around each other in their huddle, and I can see the proud smiles on their faces. It is a moment I am so grateful I got to capture.

I’m overly eager to see the other shots I got, so instead of meeting Mateo and the other guys by their merch booth like we agreed on, I find an empty spot against the wall near the restrooms where I won’t be in anybody’s way and start to click through the other pictures.

I’m completely distracted by the genuine happiness on their faces as I click through the pictures that I don't feel a presence approaching. And when I finally do, it is not one I recognize.

“Cute, a groupie,” a voice says, and I look up to see the guy who wouldn’t let me past him in the crowd. He is just under six foot with a stocky build, and he is wearing blue jeans and tennis shoes with a T-shirt of the headlining band. His blonde hair is receding in a direction that makes me think he is at least fifteen years older than me.

I am used to being around Eddie, Theo, and Silas who are all around ten years older than me like Mateo, but none of them have ever looked at me in the predatory way this man is looking at me right now, and I feel my heart start to beat faster.

Before I can say anything, he walks a few steps closer to me, and I look around to see that I am near the men’s restroom that never seems to be as crowded as the women’s, so it is basically just me and him.

The merch booth the guys are waiting for me at is on theotherside of the crowd, and I am regretting my decision to find a quiet corner in a venue that is made up of mostly men.

“So which one of those shitty musicians are you fucking, groupie?” he says with a disgusting smirk on his face. People are walking by, but there is no way an outsider’s perspective would think anything is wrong with just a quick glance.

My mind begins to race as I feel the room close in on me. I feel myself go intofightor flight, but I refuse to back down from this asshole.

“First of all, I’m the photographer. Second of all, it is my brother’s band,” I let my camera drop, the strap still around my neck, and I push off the wall I was leaning on and begin to take a step past him. “And who I fuck is none of your business,” I add for good measure.

He intercepts my step, and his sweaty hand wraps around my upper arm. I freeze as he brings his face closer to mine, and I can smell the stale scent of beer on his breath. “Unless it’s me,” he says as if anything about my face, voice, or demeanor leads him to believe that would be something I want. “Come on, honey. Let’s get out of here.”

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