19. Dylan
19
DYLAN
I t was still early when we got to the campsite, that dusky grey color of the morning. It was a fucking miracle that Shane even agreed to it in the first place — it was hard to imagine him tolerate anything less than five star accommodations, but somehow he’d been convinced to go along with it. Probably something to do with the way Alex kept holding him close and whispering something in his ear. Maybe he’d promised him something or another if he behaved for a while.
I didn’t care — tents and dirt didn’t bother me. We had days’ worth of music blaring at us until our eardrums bled. As much metal and hard rock as I could handle. Maybe it was some of our scene more than others — namely Theo and me — but I was excited about it. Then again, as long as it meant I got music, I was content.
“Why the hell is this so far from the stage?” Shane griped, a hand on his hip as he stared at the distance between where we were and the stage area.
Theo laughed. “Come on, it’ll do you good to rough it for a couple of days.”
“I brought hand sanitizer,” Charlie supplied, holding out a bottle.
Shaking my head, I walked off. They could debate cleanliness with themselves if they wanted — I needed to survey the area, figure out what we were working with. It was almost enough to make me forget about the sadness that had been gnawing at me for the past couple of days.
Brad hardly said anything when he’d come back to the room, just hurried to undress and slip into bed. No questions came from me, either. Which wasn’t usual — most of the time we could talk about nothing for hours on end. He must have been wrapped up in his own thoughts, and I was still dwelling. Part of me wanted to say something to break the tension and keep things light. The words weren’t there, and Brad probably didn’t know if I was awake or asleep.
It was a new day, though. While my thoughts still drifted to Frankie and were edged with darkness, I tried to shake them off enough to not let on that something was up. I wasn’t sure how well it worked, however.
By the time the shows started, it was packed. I laughed as I got shoved around, the mosh pit edging its way closer and closer to us. A few people — namely Shane and Charlie — looked horrified, while others wore expressions between amusement or anticipation, bracing themselves.
“You okay?” Brad yelled above the sound of the band.
I smiled as the crowd jerked me around. “Totally. You want to go in?” I tilted my head toward the pit and its ever-growing size.
Brad eyed it warily. “I’m in if you are.” He broke into a grin.
Taking his hand, I pulled him off toward the circle. Someone called out to us, but I didn’t pay any attention. Soon, the swirling vortex of bodies swallowed us up. There was a very simple art to the mosh pit — just keep moving and don’t be a dick. It wasn’t proper etiquette to try to hurt people. There wasn’t supposed to be punching or anything extreme, just a bit of chaos.
Brad stayed closed, and I felt myself getting lighter with every passing moment. I closed my eyes, taking in the music as I bounced around like a crazy person to the chaotic drumbeats. This was good — this was one of those things that made life so much more interesting. I could feel Brad’s hand on me, keeping hold of the waistband of my jeans like he was afraid I was going to slip away if he didn’t.
“Hell yeah, you feel that?” I called out to him, though I had no clue if he could even hear me.
“I feel something!” There was laughter in his voice, however.
“This is the moment, man. The moment. One day I’ll be on that stage, you know? Making people feel this.”
Even as I said the words, I knew it was nothing more than a fleeting fantasy. I wasn’t cut out to be a musician, not in the rockstar sense of the word. My future was in mixing songs and albums for bands, which was okay, too.
“You can do anything, Dylan,” Brad called. There was an edge of something in his voice, something I couldn’t quite place.
I swallowed and pretended I couldn’t hear him. Like the music was too loud, and I was moving too much to know how much he believed in me. Because the worst part, or maybe the best, was that I knew he meant every single word. I knew he thought somehow nothing held me back, that I could move mountains if I wanted to.
It made this feeling start in my chest, a feeling that I couldn’t figure out — or maybe I didn’t even want to. Maybe it was too crushing, too big and too scary for me to put words to. We jumped and spun for the rest of the set, even as sweat poured down my face and back. There was the calming sensation of Brad’s hand on my back throughout it all, reassured that I wouldn’t get trampled if he had hold of me.
When the band finished, I stopped moving and couldn’t help but laugh. “That was insane.” I turned to look at Brad, panting.
He was smiling, this soft sort of look in his eyes. “You had fun with that, didn’t you?” he asked, like he didn’t already know the answer to the question. Like I hadn’t been lighter than air for the first time in a long time.
I nodded and drew in a shaky breath. “You didn’t have to stay the whole time. It was like a tornado, you know? Fun…you wanna be Dorothy?”
Brad laughed. The sound was full and deep and loud, unashamed and unembarrassed. “I think you’d make a cuter Dorothy. How about I stick with being Toto?”
I grinned, happy when Brad went along with me. He never talked about how weird I was — well, at least not in the way that made me feel sad. He meant it with some kind of affection behind it, and that I didn’t mind. We were friends, after all.
“Deal. Toto. We definitely aren’t in Kansas.” I hummed, shaking out my sweat-drenched hair. Without another word, I headed back to the others. They looked less crazy, of course, but not by much.
We spent the rest of the day crowded around the various stage setups, jumping from band to band. It was all so busy , and filled with people who just loved what they did. Something about seeing them set my heart on fire, made me want to be in their position.
Or at least watch them more often.
Brad and I slunk off to the mosh pit occasionally, and Alex even joined us for a few songs before bowing out. Likely didn’t want to injure his good looks.
By the time the festival finished for the day and we all crowded into the two tents, we were all too exhausted to even think straight, much less talk about the day or how tomorrow would differ. If it even would, I couldn’t imagine a better time, but I knew we weren’t here for me, not really. Shane knew Theo loved this shit, and he’d do a lot more for Theo than he would for the rest of us, as much as he’d try to deny it.
Even so, I felt lighter as I laid down on the uncomfortable ground, taking in the night. It was cool, but it was a nice refresher from the sunlight beating down on us all day. For once, my thoughts felt almost quiet, undaunted. I didn’t have enough to keep me awake, or maybe I’d just worn out my body enough that it didn’t have time to catch up.
Drifting to sleep, I only realized later that Brad’s hand rested on mine.