Chapter 4 #2
Zana walked on stage, arms lifted, his hair loose and curly around his face and his arms bare to show off the angels and eyes tattoos that went from his knuckles to under his chin.
He raised his arms higher, palms up, rings flashing in the lights, and waved for the audience to yell.
And they did, louder than Luka could remember hearing a crowd at a concert before.
The lights went pink and purple as King and Reno took the stage, the audience somehow getting even noisier.
The yells shook the air and Luka could feel it in his chest and throat.
Next to him, August was putting earplugs in before joining in on the noise.
When T-yan came on, his drumstick spinning over his head, August leapt up from the stool and went to the bannister to get a better look.
Luka stayed at the table, watching Reno prowl the stage, bringing the audience to move into a chant as he cocked his hip and struck a pose with his guitar, and even from the balcony, Luka could see the way his nails and eyeshadow glittered in the spotlights.
T-yan sat at the drum set and blasted everyone with double bass, then King joined in, making the venue vibrate. Zana went to Reno, held his mic away from them, and said something in his ear.
And Reno looked directly at the balcony at Luka.
When their eyes locked, Luka felt a jolt of electricity roll down his spine.
Reno flashed a smile, something cocky and filthy in the way his teeth glimmered in the light, to turn away right as Zana growled into the mic to kick off the first song without an introduction.
Luka had two hands around his drink as he stared, frozen.
Slowly, he lifted the drink to his mouth and drank through the straw, his eyes never leaving the stage.
Voltage was on fire. Luka had seen them play every time they came to the States, but he’d never seen them like this.
Zana looked close to diving off the stage and throwing himself into the audience, the toes of his Converse hanging off the speakers where he crouched low, hand outstretched to almost touch the crowd as he sang.
King was on the drummer’s platform, a foot on a bass drum as he played until hitting a heavy breakdown where he launched off the platform just in time to back up Zana’s vocals in the mic.
August came back to the table after a few songs, looking delighted as they took their drink and finished it. “Reno looks way taller than you said!”
“Stage presence,” Luka said over the noise, motioning back to where Reno was playing, his stance wide in his stacked boots, the straps and buckles around his legs only making them look longer.
He flipped his hair out of his face and stalked the stage, crouching low to point at the audience with a mean smirk before the next drop.
The people in front reached for him, screaming, and Reno winked at them before ripping away to play a complicated riff on his guitar.
August sat down on the stool, shaking their head. “He really is something else. I think I like T-yan, though. He’s a monster.”
T-yan hadn’t broken focus the whole set, even as his bandmates flaunted around him.
King would join him on his platform sometimes, but T-yan would hardly glance up and away, and Luka couldn’t imagine the skill it took to play a single song of Voltage’s on the drums, let alone an entire set.
His fanbase was huge, not just because he was so attractive, but because of how skilled he was, setting the band apart from most others with the sheer complexity of its drum line.
King kept pace with him, letting Reno fly off the edge with unnecessary sweeps and haunting melodies all while Zana kept the center of attention, his high, clean vocals sliding into low, filthy growls at any moment’s notice.
“Thank you, Columbia!” Zana yelled into the mic, his accent thick and French as the guitar hummed and the drums kicked.
“We’re so grateful to be here, you’re all electric!
” King slid his fingers down the bass and the venue shook with applause.
“I can’t tell you how much it means for you all being here tonight.
Can we take a photo together?” he asked, like he did at every show.
The crowd went wild as they yelled ‘yes!’ and Zana got his band together to pose for the photo that a roadie took on Zana’s phone.
He gave the roadie a side hug, took the phone back, and looked at it appreciatively.
“We look so good together! Oh, Reno, you’re so handsome tonight,” he laughed into the mic and everyone cheered and laughed when Reno flipped him off.
He put his phone back into his pocket and said, “We have two more songs for you, then our friends in Hearts n Hell get to come play. We love them very much and we hope you all do too.” Zana cheered for their tour band, stomping his feet in appreciation as Reno made a heart with his hands and several people in the crowd mirrored him.
Zana swiped his hair away from his face, then took a swig of water from a bottle and tossed it to Reno, who caught it with one hand and drank after him. A few girls cheered in the audience and Zana flashed them a smile, all too knowing.
“As you know, we cross many borders to be here with you tonight.” Cheers, applause. “It’s in that spirit of freedom, of artistic expression that brings us together for one thing!”
King crossed the stage to grab the bottle from Reno, leaning in close to him to say something that made Reno swat his arm playfully.
Zana pointed back to T-yan, who kicked the drums then turned back to the audience and asked, “What are we here for?”
The audience yelled and Zana pulled away from the mic to clap his hands. T-yan played in time to his claps as they dove into the next song, Unite and Conquer.
August hopped up and asked, “I’m getting another. You want anything?”
“A Red Bull, thanks,” Luka replied and once August left, he slowly got up, leaving his empty drink behind, and leaned against the balcony railing.
As if Reno had been waiting for him, he looked up right as Luka put his elbows on the banister.
Luka almost pulled away, shocked, but Reno turned and sauntered over to Zana and stole the mic for a brief rap-line.
He ducked away after, head down as he played, and Luka swallowed, his throat dry.
August pressed the cold can against his arm and he took it gratefully as Voltage moved onto their final song.
They wrapped up to tremendous applause and screams and Luka watched as the crowd tried to press forward even more, reaching for the musicians' hands. Zana sprayed them with what was left of the water bottle before tossing the empty away from him. King threw his picks away and into the crowd. T-yan bowed from behind the drums then turned to leave as Reno threw another heart out to everyone with his hands, his guitar slung across his back. He left without glancing back up to the balcony and the venue’s top 40 playlist popped on along with the lights so the stage could be swapped out for Hearts n Hell.
Luka let out a long breath, stood up and away from the balcony railing, and then someone said, “Luka Fischer?”
A very tall man with a buzzed head and a sharp suit was looking down at him. Specifically, he was looking at the blue, sparkly wristband he was wearing.
“Yes?”
“You’re welcome to come with me whenever you’re ready,” he said, looking significantly less terrifying once Luka put the pieces together that he was some type of security for either Voltage or the venue. By the suit, he guessed Voltage.
“Okay, give me a minute.” Luka started to turn away then turned back. “Are there bathrooms backstage or should I use the ones out here?”
August snorted beside him, “Of course.”
“What? It’s a good question,” Luka protested, and when he looked back at the security guy, he was smiling too, amused.
“There are private ones backstage you can use. Better than waiting in line for the ones out here.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” Luka hated venue bathrooms with a passion. “Aug, I’ll uh. Yeah, I’ll see you later?”
“Turn on your location, whore.” August flashed a smile at him and drained the rest of their drink. “I’m gonna stick around and see what this Heart band is about. If they’re half as fun as Voltage, it’ll be a great night.”
“Okay," Luka said, fumbling with his phone to share his location with August until he saw them again. Finally, he handed them the half-full can of Red Bull. “If I die tonight, just know I love you.”
“I love you too, you’re not going to die. Too many people know you’re leaving here to see Reno,” August announced loudly and pointed to themself then at Mister Security. “I don’t think that twink could take either of us down if he tried.”
Luka looked away from August only to make direct eye contact with two girls at a nearby table, who were giving him twin astonished expressions.
He flinched slightly and said, “Yeah, too many. Thanks to your loud mouth. Sorry, I don’t want those to be our last words.”
“Stop it, he’s not a stalker or a serial killer. Go get your—” Luka slapped his hand over August’s mouth and he could feel them smiling against his palm. He slowly lowered it, trying to give them a look they knew meant to behave. “—dick sucked.”
“God damn it.”
“I’ll be at the motel with my ringer on high. Let me know when you’re on your way back so I can let you in. We’ll drive home in the morning.”
“Thank you,” Luka said, meaning it entirely. “I will.”
August hugged him then turned away to the guard. “Take him away, sir!”
Luka looked up at him and saw that he looked bemused before he cleared his throat. “Sure thing.” He looked August up and down like he was trying to figure out if he should say Sir or Ma’am but shrugged instead and turned without saying either, motioning for Luka to follow.
He could feel the girls at the table ogling him the whole walk down the stairs. When he turned to look back up at the balcony, they were there, watching with their elbows on the railing. One of them had her phone pointed at him.
He swore internally and tugged his sleeve down again. He hoped whatever video or photo they got was too blurry to show who he was.
The guard led him through a door to the side of the stage behind a few venue guards, who just wore t-shirts with ‘security’ printed in white on them.
The stairs beyond the door were littered with graffiti, and on closer inspection, Luka realized it was mostly musicians’ signatures.
The guard walked him down the stairs, then jutted his thumb to the door on the right.
“Bathroom.”
“Thanks,” Luka said, darting inside as fast as he could.
It was mercifully clean, and a single stall, so he locked the door and let himself slump against it for a moment, trying to take stock of his body and his mind, only to find his heart racing and his shirt upsettingly damp under the arms and over his back.
He used the toilet, washed his hands, and pulled off August’s beanie when he checked himself out in the mirror, trying to salvage his hair.
He’d opted for something more casual, a long-sleeve shirt one of his friends designed, black with white screen print of a deer twisting in several directions with arrows going down the sleeves.
Black ripped jeans, chains hanging from his hip, and his black and white adidas.
He wasn’t trying to present himself as someone he wasn’t, and he didn’t really dress up often anymore— not like he did when he was fifteen.
He’d changed a lot since then, and he needed Reno to see him for who he was, and not for the girl Reno had met ten years ago.
Luka rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the stubble there, looking at his straight, thick brows and light brown eyelashes, his cheeks red from the over-warm venue, and he decided if he didn’t get away from the mirror, he would never leave the bathroom out of sheer nerves.
He pulled his shirt to his nose and thanked God that he smelled nice and not like sweat. When he left the bathroom, he found the guard leaning against the opposite wall, waiting. He looked unbothered as he pushed upright and led Luka the rest of the way to a door that said ‘Greenroom’.
He opened it to Luka’s heart pounding in his chest, and on the other side of the door, across the room, bending forward and arranging his hair in the mirror, was Reno.