Chapter 4

After getting something to eat at Luxe, a quaint little diner we frequent, we make our way downtown to the venue to see Bloodstained Symphony. Although I don’t really know much about the band or their music, I have heard of them. They definitely have a following in the metal community and have a pretty vocal fanbase, which means the concert will definitely be lively. Heavy metal concerts are known to get pretty rowdy, with the mosh pits usually forming in the center of the crowd. We tend to like how our faces look, so we do our best to avoid that area. And, from what I’ve heard, Bloodstained Symphony’s mosh pits get especially amped up.

Usually whenever we go to a concert, we typically stand towards the edge of the crowd with some type of alcoholic beverage in hand. Just chilling there together, enjoying the music. It’s a great routine that lets us have fun but doesn’t put us dead center in a crowd. Even knowing this, I have to keep reminding myself that this is good for me. I need to get out of my head and just let loose. This will be a good time.

When we arrive at Ocean Street Music Hall, the crowd is already bustling outside, just waiting for the venue to open its doors so they can go inside. The line is long and winds around the perimeter of the building. Even though everyone is definitely impatient to get in, the vibe is fun and energetic, and people are frenzied with excitement as they count down the minutes. The smell of marijuana wafts above the crowd, and lit cigarettes flare in the darkness, casting people’s faces in golden hues. I can hear somebody playing a Bloodstained Symphony song full blast off of their phone, with groups shouting the lyrics alongside the lead singer’s powerful vocals. I find myself gravitating towards the sound before I shake myself alert in confusion. Where did I think I was going?

It’s the beginning of October, and the freezing New York weather is doing its best to cut through my leather jacket. I glance over at Elijah, hoping that he has a way to skip this line. He usually does since he is both the most impatient and stubborn person I know. I’m just hoping it’s a more effective—and legal—way in early, than when we tried to scale a building to get into a concert during high school. It hurt like hell, and we definitely got caught by event security. “I really hope your buddy, the hot tour manager, got us early entry access.” I hug the leather jacket tighter around my body to avoid the windy chill in the air.

Elijah scoffs at me. “Babes, it pains me how little faith you have in me.” Glancing at me sideways with a playful tilt to his lips, he links his arm through mine and drags me toward the venue doors. I follow along, desperately trying to absorb some of his body heat.

Two security guards are at the main entrance, waiting to check everyone’s ID and tickets prior to entering. The security guard’s eyes skim over me before catching on Elijah. Looking Elijah up and down as we close in on them, he appears to be sizing my best friend up like he might be some kind of threat, about to cause a scene.

Elijah greets the guard with a hearty smile. “I have full entry passes for my friend and me,” he tells him, gesturing to me.

The security guard stands there, a bored look on his face, thick muscular arms crossed tightly across his chest. “Back of the line, kid,” he grunts at Elijah.

“What? If you would just look at our passes, we could get this over with a lot faster and leave you to your security guarding, um, sir.” Elijah swallows uncertainly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. It could be nerves, it could be embarrassment at the potential altercation, or, and this seems the most likely of the three options, it could be outright terror at the guard’s expression, which has shifted from bored to almost hostile.

“Oh my god! That’s Danica Gray!” A mousy girl standing near the front of the line screams loud enough to draw the attention of everybody around her. Oh great. Now everyone is staring at me and Elijah. God, I hate when this happens.

Even though I’m no rock star, and haven’t even been in the public eye with one in over two years, apparently, Oliver’s fans still recognize me. Usually, they want to take pictures with me, which I’m assuming is just a five degrees of fame type of thing, before bombarding me with questions about Oliver’s whereabouts. As if I fucking knew. It’s like being famous with exactly none of the perks. And all because I’m the last girl that dated Oliver Shaw before he went missing. Fucking Oliver. Even in his absence, I can’t escape him.

I give a weak smile and wave at the girl. Elijah won’t let me out of tonight, so, in lieu of going home, I just really wanted to get inside and have a drink to escape this awkward situation. Turning back to face the security guard, I snatch one of the tickets out of Eli’s hand, holding it out to the security guard with what I’m sure was a mildly pleading look on my face. “I would really like to go inside now, sir. If you would, please, just look at our tickets.” I’m all but shaking the ticket at him in my desperation to get inside.

Without saying a word, the security guard grabs the ticket from my hand and inspects it closely. He lets out a deep, exaggerated sigh, before cracking open the door behind him. “Go on in.” He holds the door open just enough for Elijah and I to slip through, but not enough for there to be a run on the doors by the rabid crowd outside.

We pass through the doors and down a dimly lit hallway to the main area. The room is massive—a space so large that it could easily fit a few hundred people. The vast majority of the space is empty, ready for the waiting fans to pour in and fill it to the brim. On the far wall is the stage, where the first of the three opening acts are already setting up. Lining one of the other walls are the merch stands for all of the bands playing tonight, bustling with last-minute activity as roadies get the final touches all set. To our right is a grungy bar, its laminate top sticky with years of spilled liquor—and other less enjoyable fluids. The walls behind the bar display an assortment of alcohol, with posters of well-known metal bands bordering the shelves. The room is dark, save for the lights directed at the stage. Loud music is playing through the speakers while employees scurry to finish their final prep.

“Let’s get us some drinks, sweet cheeks. That guy outside was a real asshole.” He huffs in irritation, eyebrows furrowed at the memory.

“Yeah, he looked like he wanted to eat you. And not in a good way.” I grab his hand and start leading us towards the bar.

Elijah gasps, all annoyance gone, and an amused look on his face. “Well, well, look who’s cracking jokes.” I snort inelegantly at him and keep dragging him towards the bar.

Our favorite bartender is doing a quick last-minute swipe of the countertop, a smile lifting his mouth as he sees us take a seat. He recognizes both of us, starting our usual drinks before we can even place our order. He doesn’t ID us, which is pretty standard for the venue—it’s more underground and definitely pretty low-key about things like underage drinking. Although Elijah is already 21, I still have one more month to go until I hit the drinking age. But I’m grateful that I can order alcohol here without issue, so I can get the extra boost to help me let loose and try to have fun.

The main doors at the entrance open wide, and the crowd starts pouring into the large room. Within minutes, the space is filled to almost max capacity. Elijah and I take our drinks, nod at our bartender, and battle our way over to stand near the merch stands where, with any luck, we’ll be able to stay out of the way of the other enthusiastic concertgoers.

With so many people in the room, the noise level ratchets up, laughter and loud chatter filling the space while everyone waits for the first band to play their set.

My anxiety is spiking as the noise does. I’m starting to feel panicked, claustrophobic almost—the room feels smaller, more cramped, with all the bodies clustered. I shift on my feet nervously and take a few sips of my fruity beverage to try and help to calm my nerves. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve been to hundreds of these shows.

I flinch at the lie I’m telling myself, though. While it’s true that I’ve been to a million of these, being at metal concerts choke me with so many memories of my past with Oliver. I went to every single concert he had with his band, standing either backstage, or off to the side of the stage to watch them—to watch Oli up close. He was absolute magic on a stage, and I would get absolutely lost watching him.

I think I still let Eli drag me to these concerts to help me cope with my past. To face it. So I can make new memories here, in this very same building that Oliver played at while we were together. Sometimes, I have this fantasy in my head that Oliver is going to walk out on the stage. That the last two years are just a horrible nightmare. That the night of the party was a fever dream. But it’s all just a fantasy that never comes true.

“Eli! Danica! Hey, come on over here!” A shout sounds from behind one of the merch stands. Elijah and I turn to see a tall, slender man with light brown hair and a quick, easy smile calling us over. “I told you he was hot,” Elijah shouts to me over the noise as we make our way over to the merch stand to say hello.

He nods to Elijah and extends a hand to me. “So glad I was able to spot you guys in the crowd. Everything go okay with the passes?”

I shake his hand with a shy smile on my face. “Nothing we couldn’t handle,” I reply. “Thanks for giving us the passes. That was really cool of you.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “It was no big deal. I ran into Eli earlier today, and I thought you both would like to come see the show. My name’s Todd, by the way.”

“My name’s Dani, but I have a feeling you already knew that.”

He laughs and nods his head just as the lights dim in the room, signaling the start of the first opening band. “Well, I have to go meet up with the band, but I’m so happy you both could make it out tonight to see the show. Will I be seeing you guys at the after-party later?” He looks at Elijah, but his gaze shifts to me quickly.

“Yeah, we’ll catch you there.” I give him a polite smile, before he walks towards the stage.

Elijah and I turn to face the stage. The first band is already out, and the crowd is going crazy just at the sight of them. At the first guitar chord the crowd goes insane, energy pulsing through the room. Everyone is moving in some way, whether jumping up and down, running around in the mosh pit, banging their heads to the hard music, or standing there bobbing their head along to the beat.

For me, the best part of everything, besides the music, is just standing there and people-watching.

We chill our way through the following two bands’ sets. Around us, though, people are anything but chill as the energy intensifies. By the end of the third opening act, people are drunk as fuck and the room is filled with the musky scent of sweat from all the bodies in the room, bouncing around to the music. It’s controlled chaos, and I’m just buzzed enough that I’m loosening up and enjoying myself.

The lights cut out, and the room goes completely dark. An eerie song that raises the hair on my arms plays through the speakers. The crowd amps up for Bloodstained Symphony, chanting the band’s name in an ever-increasing wave of sound. A few women even start screaming, some just toneless shrieks, others a name. Smoke machines emit thick smoke onto the bottom of the stage. You can only just see the outlines of bodies as the band walks onto the stage.

A deep guitar strum echoes through the space, right before the lights blaze on, illuminating the stage in a vibrant white light. The music is heavy and fast, with thrashing, vigorous guitar lines.

The crowd surges forward, everyone shoving at each other, jockeying for a spot closer to the stage. From my spot by the merch stand, my eyes twinkle with the glittering glow of cell phones above the heads of the crowd. Each person trying to get good shots of their favorite band.

A tall figure stalks onto the stage. Their lead singer, microphone in hand, beams at the crowd. “What the fuck is up, New York!” he screams into the mic. The crowd absolutely loses their shit, deafening noise spilling through the space. “We are Bloodstained Symphony. Now it’s time for everybody to fucking bounce!” Gripping the mic in both hands, he starts belting the lyrics into the microphone, his voice alternating between a harsh scream and a more melodic tone. Just like when I heard his voice outside, I find myself gravitating closer to the stage. That voice. I can’t explain it, but it fills me up. Makes me feel almost whole.

I’m closer to the stage, no idea how I even got there, when I finally get a closer look at the vocalist. At that moment, the entire world stops. I can’t breathe. My skin is on fire, my cheeks heated. I’m staring, wide-eyed, at this man up on the stage. He is the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

My lips part, releasing a shaky breath as I gaze upon him. God, this connection feels almost magnetic. Even as I think it, I know just how it sounds. But even still… it’s almost like he can feel it, too, because he’s scanning the crowd like he’s trying to find someone.

He finally pivots towards where I’m standing, and I know the exact moment he sees me. His eyes lock with mine, and my body jolts like I just got hit by lightning. After he finds me, he doesn’t move, singing the lyrics while piercing me with his gaze, sending shock waves of pleasure through my body.

He moves back to the mic stand, sliding the microphone back into place with one hand, the other hand stroking the length of the stand suggestively. Fuck, I’m being insane. There’s no way he can see me when I’m still pretty far back from the stage and surrounded by people.

I turn to Eli, who appears to have followed me in my trek towards the stage, standing on my tiptoes to shout into his ear. “Who is that? The singer.”

He turns to look at me, his head bobs back and forth along with the music. “I’m pretty sure his name is Chris.”