It was full of laughter and smiles. The music hall was such an amazing place to gather outside. She didn’t really care about the band that was playing, but she didn’t say no when her friend invited her. She hated crowds and being out in a dangerous city so late at night. She wore new heels that hurt with every new step. She was given the impression that it was a fancier affair than it actually turned out to be. The venue was small, mostly because the band was pretty foreign and unheard of to her country’s ears. Nonetheless, she was excited. She was doing things that people her age should be doing! Fun things like going to concerts, being out late in a hip city and dressing nice with makeup on. Inside, it was dark. Many dressed casually. Many came alone or with a significant other. Some people were in groups. The causal fashion was a laid-back hipster style of minimal effort, although the older people had dressed nicer. She can’t remember much of the opening band or the main band’s name. “Something with tornadoes,’ she recollected. Aside from the hour and a half waiting for the beginning of the show, her feet were in agony. No seats and new wedges were not doing so well together. The band was fine. Good lyrics. They reminded her of another band that she thought was okay. She escaped upstairs to the twenty-one and over section. After showing them her wrist band, she sat down. She waited until a certain time. She had to register for a class at her school. Her time for registration had come and she needed to do it quickly so that she can get back to the concert, although she liked sitting down in the booze section way better. Less contact with fans. When she was done, she decided to stay a while before going down and seeing her friend, who was no where to be found. She was okay with that. She was not okay with the tall people hogging her view of the band. When her eyes wandered to the top, she saw a window with a curtain on the other side of it. The previous band watching the main act with everyone while drinking some beers. She thought that it was charming for some reason. Her friend found her way back to her. She looked rather content. After all, music was her friend’s thing. She often got many questions right when a random song came on the radio. She was scary good. The foot pain was relentless, but she suffered on. More tall people crowded her view. She kept having to cock her head in various directions in order to see the band. After a while, she stopped caring. At least the audience wasn’t crazy and pushed her ’round and ’round. She hated those concerts. She tried to focus on the music, but she was distracted. So many people around her. So much talent on stage. She began to wonder when it would be over. She checked her watch again. Her feet were dying. She couldn’t listen to the music anymore. She was in her head. And she had to drive back home. Such a long drive. The room was too warm. She wanted to leave, but not without her friend. And finally, it was over. A sigh of relief. Her ears were adjusting to the lack of deep, loud sounds. And then she left with her friend by her side.
She told her friend that she got into her classes and enjoyed the concert. No lies, but much left out.