It was between sets. I was sitting outside after the mandatory three-chord-high-school-punk band had played. I could smell cigarette smoke hanging heavy in the crisp autumn air. All these kids were killing themselves. I was too. I found myself doing that a lot lately. I don't know what caused it, but I started looking around at all the little things that I do that I know are bad for me, and I started asking myself one question: What is this bullshit? I mean seriously from staying up late when I know I have to get up early, to not putting on my seatbelt, to smoking and the occasional drug use. If you really look through your day, I'm sure you'll find at least five ways that your trying to kill yourself.
I was thinking about why we all wanted to die so badly when she showed up. She too wanted to die. I suddenly felt like Jim Jones. I took a cup of kool aid form my pack and lit it for her. Thats what we were all doing really. She sat down next to me and took a long drag off of her recently bummed cigarette. She was cute, definitely looked like she belong here, had the dark clothes and the short hair and the whole bit. Well, maybe not the whole bit, she could pass off as normal if she needed to. I liked people like that. They were into something enough to brand themselves with the mark, but not so short sided as to completely alienate themselves from the outside world.
She started to say something when a thunderous drum solo filled the air. The bass started tuning up. We started to head inside, when we entered the building she said a simple thanks and left me alone.
The next band was much better than the first, but they lacked a certain something. There is an element of rock that you seem to lose as you get better at your instruments. You start to find what music should sound like. Why can't bands ever find a balance?
I could see the girl standing in front of me. She was leaning on the barrier looking very into the music. Nodding her head to the rhythm and bouncing up and down when there was a call for it. I was too busy watching her jumping to realize I was about to get caught in a mosh. Some guy smashed into my back, probably not intentional but it still didn't feel to good. I pushed back on the body that was laying against me. More bodies were flying around, bouncing off of one another like little popcorn kernels. I don't mind the moshpits here too much. The people here seem to understand the difference between a moshpit and a brawl. That said, it was still getting pretty crazy pretty fast.
About halfway through the second chant, I got flung hard forward right at the girl. I caught myself on the barrier around her as what felt like ten people slammed right into me. I eventually pushed away only to get smashed right back. I landed on the barrier next to her. She was trying to push her way out of there. I didn't blame her. I did my best to push a path to the edge of the stage. She apparently wasn't as into killing herself as everyone else.
We got to the edge of the stage and she kept walking. I followed her for some reason. I don't know why, its not like I knew her. All I had done was given her a cigarette. When we got outside she just sat on the curb. It was the same spot I had been perched not too long ago. She took out her cell phone and looked at the time. I don't know what it was about the girl I found so interesting. She seemed different I guess, just something about her.
I sat down next to her. We didn't say anything for a long time. After what seemed like hours she just sort of fell over and put her head against my shoulder. I don't want to go home. She said it like she was vetoing a meal. It might have well of been I don't want Chinese.
Then don't. She looked at me with a strange expression.
Well where am I supposed to go?
I dunno, wanna go to the gas station and get something to drink?