Page 50 of Fade into You
“Nirvana played here, and a lot of other big bands before they got their start,” I snap back.
“Must’ve been in better days,” she mumbles, and hops out of the car. “Let’s go! I don’t want to miss Emmanuel’s set!”
I hop out as well, go to the backseat, and open the door for Bird, leaning in to whisper, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on you. This place is nowhere near as scary as you think.”
Bird nods, grabs my hand for a brief moment, then drops it.
Tuck lets us inside, waving away my offer of cash and stamping me with the over-twenty-one stamp: aT. rex. Then he marks huge blackXs on Bird’s and Kayla’s hands.
“Why don’t I get to be twenty-one?” Kayla whines.
“?’Cause you don’t come to ghetto places like this,” I grumble back, thinking she should be thankful for the free cover.
“Do you really want to drink?” Bird asks her, looking shocked.
“Dade and I do all the time.”
“Oh,” Bird says, and I can see her deflating.
“I’ll get us some drinks,” I say, and wander to the bar to pick up some Sprites. The urge to get some vodka in mine is quashed by thinking of Bird’s disappointment at me doing so.
Once I get back, they’ve pushed to the front of the stage, where the crowd is already churning in anticipation. Emmanuel and his bandmates are plugging in amps, setting up drums, and laying out the set list. I can see he’s already swaying a bit, and that means this show is gonna be the usual garbage we get from them.
“Isn’t he soooo fucking cute?” Kayla yells. I can see he hears and smiles to himself.
I press the cans of soda into their palms. “Chugalug, once the music kicks off, we won’t want these in our hands.”
“Why?” Bird says, taking a sip.
“?’Cause we’re essentially standing in what will be the mosh pit.”
Her eyes widen in what I think might be fear. I put a hand on her back. “Don’t worry, it’s just the opener. I don’t think they’ll rage that hard.”
I see Natalie slink in, and she waves to me to hit the bathroom. I duck out and head to the horror show that is the Touchstonecrappers. At least they managed to get the leaking toilet to stop dousing the floor in dirty piss water. Natalie is perched on a toilet seat, blazing up. She hands me the joint and I breathe in smoke and breathe out calm. The drug hits me right away and I can feel the light happiness it gives me, the sense of potential for the evening, the happy buzz and slight euphoria.
“So, here with Bird, huh?” She side-eyes me.
“Shut up,” I murmur back.
“Hey, I think it’s good you’re diversifying. Dade’s a dick.”
“You don’t know him.”
“And I don’t wanna.” She puff, puff, passes.
“He’s better one on one.”
“Aren’t we all?” she responds. We finish the joint, just the sounds of the inhale, exhale, and crisp snap of the cherry burning up the skunky weed. She tosses the roach in the toilet and fixes her hair in a mirror practically covered in stickers.
“Thanks, Natalie,” I say, and unlock the door, ready to head back now that my brain is in the right clouds to listen to noise rock.
“Of course, comes from the earth, goes to the earth, and is meant to be shared.”
As I step out I hear three sharp raps—the drummer setting the beat—and then bass, guitar, and drums slam out. Shit, Bird and Kayla, they’re still in the blast zone.
“I gotta…”
“Go.” She waves me on.
