Secret Rendezvous

1.

I allow the hot scalding water to dance along my dirty scalp. I clean out the pieces of garbage, blades of grass, a few crumbling old leaves, and whatever else lay on the grounds of what was once the AOL Music Festival, now known as the TiKToK Music Fest.

Day one had started out like every other year. Ticket holders began arriving at sunrise, anxious and raring to go. Before the gates opened the sour smell of pot permeated in the air blending in with the early morning fog. The stench burned my nose, but it wasn't a summer at the festival without it.

The gates opened an hour before the first band was set to take the stage. I stood still against the hardwood of stage one. There are three of them, two for the lesser known bands and one enormous stage for the headliners. People started crowding around them well before any of the headliners were set to perform.

The moment the music vibrated through me I knew I was home. It has been my home for one weekend every summer for the last twenty years, give or take the few I'd missed. Dad was head of security up until five years ago when he jumped into the pit to save a young girl who was getting hammered by a stampede of people. He was able to get her out, but as he left the pit his heart gave out. I saw the whole thing play out in front of me. The worst feeling in the world was not being able to do a damn thing about it.

It took me four years to overcome the tragedy that occurred. The first year I tried to come back I had a panic attack in the parking lot and left. The second try, it didn't hit me until I stood in front of a stage. They offered to have me just float around the festival, but understood when I decided to go home instead. This was my third try and I've gotten much further than the last. The only reason I ended up back in my cozy hotel room was because I ended up jumping into the mosh pit. I tried to help one of the other security guards save a young man who went down in the center during the wall of death.

I booked a room at the hotel as dad had done almost every year. I wanted the soft cushioned bed and the reliable shower, rather than a tent on the ground. The tent was fun for a short time, but I decided that if I wanted an escape, having the hotel room was the way to go.

I shut the shower off, climb out, and release the steam from the room. Stepping into the main room I can hear and feel the beat from across the street. The loud music shakes the entire building with a force that I can't explain. I'd grown up with the booming bass pumping through my veins. It was comforting and frightening all at the same time.

I slip into a new pair of black shorts, a collared top, and work shoes. Clipping the walkie to my belt I turn it up to listen for any new security info I might need before I head down. I lift a half eaten sandwich to my mouth off the cherry stained desk and peek out the silk sheer curtains.

The first two stages are roaring with music, positioned at opposite ends of the grounds. From my room I can see it all. I always book a room at the very top. The view from here is spectacular, as if I were looking in on a story told in third person. I like it that way to keep myself from creating my own story here. Two stories have already ended and I don't think I can handle a third.

"Peters, come in Peters." A static voice comes in over the walkie.

"This is Peters." I reply.

I let the curtain fall and start prepping for my return to the festival.

"The main stage is starting to come to life, you think you're up for it?"

It's Russell, he was my dad's best friend. They were partners in crime, besties to the end of time. He's taken over dad's job and treats me as if I were his own daughter. He convinced me to come back this year for one last try. So far I'm managing okay, even though my heart is somewhere else.