I was surrounded by rodents. And not the type I had speculated to be our travel partner, but rather six, human-sized fools who were a lot harder to get along with, and even more so to get rid of. I knew that was a dramatic way of calling my own friends a major headache, but two cups of coffee with no food in my system had turned me into this—humanity-hating, tired, simply done.

Brunch was going to be a pain, much like anything we managed to do, because the peak of our struggles was picking a place to eat at.

Evan was gone. He'd left in the early hours of dawn, and I had noticed when the bed felt vacant to my side. I wanted to say I had no recollection of how I ended up on the bed after deciding to sleep on the floor. I wanted to wipe that memory off my mind, last night under moonlight and all the conversation we'd shared. I wondered how many more times it would take for me to be at ease with playing the moment: his hold as he carried me, the warmth, the laughter which permeated air molecules and cut through the smoothness of the duvets like melted butter.

It had been replayed over a thousand times, yet my mind deflected from reality.

"Pizza?" Sean prompted, but everyone's attention was haywire. "Can someone contribute something useful so we can speed this up? We still have a good distance to travel."

Raymond was the most capable of that, but he had left to get the rest of us something to drink. Xavier and Leo sat on plastic chairs a little far from us, whilst Chloe bobbed her head to the music that she played on her phone.

Stella's eyes glued to mine, lips twisted in a smirk. "How was last night, babe?"

"Don't babe me, you menace," I scowled, but the mention was enough for my chest to squeeze. "I haven't forgiven you."

She rolled her eyes. "Still doing this? Laura," she drawled her words, and then winked at Chloe. "Just because you enjoy the chase doesn't mean others will. If someone snatches what's yours, don't come home crying."

Chloe nodded.

My mouth almost, almost, dropped. To the fucking floor. She was loud. Xavier was seated a couple feet across, browsing his phone, and he glanced up and laughed, too.

"I won't be grinning at this if I were you," accusing Xavier was second-nature in an unnatural conversation. "You are endorsing mistreatment." And public humiliation of a dear friend.

"Just because I'm grinning doesn't mean I endorse shit," he shrugged, in his eyes a miraculous glint. "I like chaos, darling. You must know this by now."

And that could've been fine, if that was all. Leo, who lacked knowledge of this, was deep in thought. I didn't even want to know how a person with no context took in this disastrous conversation. I didn't want to do anything with this. I wanted to go home, for God's sake.

First, he gaped. Then came the dramatic sigh, lips frowned.

Apparently, it was easier to read than I'd thought.

"You so left me out on this," he shook his head. I wanted to tell him: there is nothing to be left out of, but he had continued before I could, lips pulled in a teasing smile. "But it's profound, isn't it? Two idiots in love must be a force to reckon with."

I was potentially deceased on the inside. Dead, unalive, gone.

I felt every iota of embarrassment that stomped on my chest as if it were a physical force. And for a second, I almost wished it was, so it could squash me like a bug on the ground. Then, maybe, I'd have an easier time while my friends sat in silence, giving me looks.

I came to an obvious realization. All of them were menaces. Perhaps even more so than the moron who still lived in my mind like it was his own damn real estate.

Xavier mouthed something to me, then, which looked worse than him actually muttering it aloud. Truth stings, he had tried to convey. Sucks to be you.

There was no truth in any of this. I wished I had said it outright, but instead I spoke, "We're having pasta for brunch," both to break the silence and the flow of the conversation which twisted a knife through my guts. Everyone glanced at me with their eyebrows raised, all except Sean—who observed each one of us with a gaze too intense.

He checked if anyone had complained. I wasn't sure if pasta was universally loved, or my friends had suddenly forgotten how to speak after giving their two cents on something I had never fucking brought up.

Nobody uttered a word.

"A conclusive decision. Never done before," Sean looked up at the sky as if he was reciting a prayer in his head. He then dropped me a glance. "Thank you."

I mouthed you're welcome, but the one grateful was me.

▂

WE WERE HERE, EVENTUALY—THE EVENT FOR WHICH WE HAD RISKED A BRIEF PERIOD OF ACADEMIC VALIDATION. The air had taken the colour of bronzed inertness when the hours filled with caffeine and copious road-rage. Going back to the road after a lazy morning was exactly how I pictured reality to creep into dreams: slow at first, and then sickening madness at the realization. It was a hustle and bustle, a mix of us losing directions while being equal parts enthralled and terrified, because we were to get to the venue before the time on our tickets: 8 P.M.

We had been bickering about taking the wrong turns one second, and finding the right ones the next. Clearly, even after memorizing the route well before and accessing it constantly on our phones, confusion prevailed. One second we strayed farther away from the destination and dread filled in, and the very next second. . .we were there.

We had arrived.

The more we stepped in, the more it dawned how calling myself starstruck would've been an understatement. Soundcheck was in process, the slightest sound of music reverberating past the hall walls. We had been outside for the majority of the time, but when we did go in, the sight overwhelmed every nerve ending until all I knew was to be light on my feet and turn around to take in every inch of the venue. On the inside, the venue looked bigger—wider—or perhaps that was solely because it was devoid of the massive crowd soon to flood in. The realization in itself was far too insane for me to take in.

A whole band assembled on the stage. The drummer waved at what I could suppose was the bunch of us, but we could only wave back with half-dazed attention. Surreal was the word that I swallowed from the tip of my tongue, and the show hadn't even begun. Evan entered the scene, then, in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, tuning his guitar and the volume of the microphones so that it was just apt. He resembled something magical out of a movie scene—one which was ghastly aglow. It seemed something out of fond memory, yet something I had no recollection of.

And when he grinned, I knew there wasn't a single way I was surviving tonight.

So I grabbed Stella and got us something to drink.

▂

FIFTEEN MINUTES HAD PASSED AFTER PEOPLE SETTLED. And it was loud, so loud already, that I probably wasn't ready for when Evan arrived on stage. Laughter and brightness floated thinly in the air at first. The opening act—an artist I knew a couple songs from but decided to add more to my playlist later—finished, and the main act halted right before it began. Muffled noises went up in an uproar, one too deafening for anyone present. The air was humid when Leo laughed at something Ray had said and when Stella's arm went over my shoulders, but I missed her words completely when the stage dimmed.

It lit up, then. In a coordinated way so it formed spotlights, and I seemed to miss her words again when the stage bathed in golden, and—

And, and, and. He stood at the centre. He stood smiling, messing his hair, greeting the crowd, and he looked: out worldly. Untouchable. Invincible. He stood with poise and a guitar strapped around his shoulder and jewellery—rings—which bounced the light falling right off them.

Evan Parker stood on top of the world in every essence one could find. One glance was all it took for me to tell he belonged nowhere but here. There.

I had missed anything and everything Stella had managed to say, and she had retorted to my mental absence by elbowing me in the chest. It didn't even hurt. I couldn't even fathom all that happened in my periphery, let alone drift my gaze to the people standing beside me. I wasn't sure if I was hearing the crowd scream in my ears or my own heartbeats, because he was singing.

He was singing the very songs I had spent extra time trying to memorize for solely this moment.

Stella had begun dancing. My laughs evaporated beneath the guitar riffs until all of us were intoxicated to a feeling I had been new to, and I hadn't realized when my voice was a part of the mix—the three of us performing alongside him with invisible mics in our hands. Sean was grinning. Leo joined us, off-key and off-pitch but very much on the same wavelength, pushing Raymond to stop his god-awful screaming.

Xavier looked like he was about to cry.

I nudged him, laughing. "Someone's getting emotional."

"Of course I am," he faked a tear. "All my training has finally paid off."

All of us rolled our eyes. Evan switched the familiar melody to something electric, charging up the air as if the venue wasn't already buzzing with a burning flare. Then he walked closer to our side, detaching the microphone from the stand and sending us the widest, brightest grin.

My heart hammered against my chest, in sync with the beats of the drums.

Someone bumped my arm, then. It was so sudden I hurled back to glance over my shoulder, but the muffled voice sounded to my left, making me jump.

"Hello, hello," Ciara was shuffling in, breathing slightly heavy. The gold hanging down her ears bounced, accenting the crimson on her lips. "Am I too late?"

"You!" Stella pulled her by the arm, voice too many octaves high. "Where were you?"

"There," the blonde girl pointed backwards, and then sighed. "Got stuck behind and couldn't find you guys."

I smiled. "The show's just getting started, Everyl. Buckle up."

"Oh," she blinked, and then laughed. The grins vanished behind her hair as her head swayed to the side. "I'm ready."

▂

SHE WASN'T. None of us had been.

It had been somewhere over forty minutes—perhaps fifty—and even though the show was coming to an end, I was holding up horrible. Pathetically out-of-breath, as if I'd run a marathon. And even though I had a drink with me, it wasn't enough. Stella had a hand over her heart and eyes shut, puffing her cheeks in part annoyance and part awe. Chloe laughed, breathless, and Ciara clinked her glass with mine for the third time in the past twenty-minutes. We weren't consuming any alcohol, which was funny—because we all seemed pretty out of it, and certainly high.

In one word: chaos. We weren't too sure where it was stemming from. The crowd seemed to rebound the energy Evan presented. He seemed to multiply the craziness coming with the howling cheer, eyes bright and stage anything but dull. His presence was amazing. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but he surpassed every hitch as if it was rehearsed.

"God, this is exhausting," Stella grumbled, diverting my attention. "And he looks perfectly fine. He is performing. What witchcraft is that?"

Blue light shadowed his features when I looked back at him. If people weren't staring at him because of the talent, it would be because of how he looked. He was a stunner on a regular day. Today, he could've passed as a wonder.

His hands hovered in the air above his guitar. He looked at the crowd with twisted lips, and then paused. For a second, silence drew, but then he was handing the instrument to his band and switching the guitar for the piano which sat at the very back of the stage.

He adjusted the stand as he took a seat, eyes pacing between the crowd and the keys in front of his eyes. "This one's unreleased and called August," he spoke, and the crowd jumped to voice another tumultuous cheer. "And you're hearing it first."

Ciara shook her head, but on her lips played a smile. Then the chords hit: minor and major. It felt just as sweet as it felt sorrowful.

They say it's out of sight, out of mind

But I see you a thousand times when I close my eyes

And heaven might be the feeling of getting drunk on this

All could be well if it just ended

But we're stuck in loops, pretending

Swear I reached the gates to paradise

Right when the curtain fell before my eyes

I'd rather you cut through skin and bones

Than to break me open just to give me hope

But you'll know I'm still lying, darling

Who am I trying to suffice?

You know I'm still trying, darling

Even if the days turn into lies

And august was never a favourite of mine, darling

But maybe it is, now, since it got us intertwined

The song had ended, but the repercussions hadn't even begun. My eyes were super glued to the boy on stage as if I had never looked at him, and the reasons were too many, or perhaps none. Maybe he'd felt more unreal now that I could see him create sorcery of kinds, because a glance to my side was all it took for me to know he had everyone spellbound.

The music waned in the background: breath-taking and raw and beautiful, and—

Stella faced me. I swivelled my gaze to her for a second, and knew exactly what the look on her face said.

Suddenly, I wanted him to move onto the next song. Suddenly, everything was dramatically out of focus, as if I were light-headed. Suddenly, I was being squeezed on both sides while my eyes stayed latched on the stage.

The show was over, though. Evan was gone before I could discern.

And Stella possessed the nerve to shake me, twice, then clamp her mouth shut. "No fucking way."

Not much went through my head in that instant—mind blurring between faint murmurs and echoing footsteps—and yet.

I found myself relating to that sentiment beyond reason.

happy new year guys! here's an update which hopefully you enjoyed. the next one is done and would be up soon enough i hope. one of the major goals for this year for me is to finish this book and get started on other projects that i've had in mind for a very long time now. i'm very excited for them and i hope you are too

you're golden,

abrial