Paisley Higgs | (Sirius Black)

Chapter 11- Concerts Suck

Concerts suck.

There, I said it.

I know. I know that teenagers, and people in general, are supposed to enjoy concerts. Logically, it sounds like a nice time. Semi-entertaining music, people watching, limited opportunities for conversation. What more could someone ask for?

But the deafening buzzing bass shook the room, vibrations rattling down to my internal organs—flashing lights blinding from the stage—people everywhere—sweaty limbs and dangerous elbows all aflail—body heat of strangers pressed in on me... suffocating me in a swirl of body oder, dizzying cologne, and cigarettes smoke.

It was too loud. Too crowded. Too much.

But it seemed, per usual, I was the only one bothered by any of this. Everyone around me was blissfully happy. Grinning and dancing and enjoying their youth in a way I literally could not comprehend.

Things had really hit their groove after Sirius and I scouted out the bathroom (yes, he really did drag me all the way to that stinky corner of the venue. And yes, the putrid stench will haunt me until my dying breath.) Sirius eventually wandered over to James's side, the two of them resembling brothers in the poor lighting. They were friends and given Sirius's erratic behavior, I shouldn't have expected him to stick around... but it still sort of hurt my feelings that he didn't want to hang out with me... Not that I'd ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that. 

The second group arrived by car just after we returned. I couldn't remember all their names, but they were definitely the life of the party (as made evident by their prolific use of fist pumping), eagerly mingling with the existing group.

I wanted to be like them.

I wanted to be like Alice who confidently screamed the wrong lyrics to every song off key. I wanted to be like Lily who laughed her head off, shaking her hips to the beat of the music, making up dance moves as she did so. I wanted to be like James (I know, weird) and possess the confidence to stand in the middle of the crowd as if the concert was in his own living room. Even Remus, who I'd initially labeled as an introvert, seemed to be having a good time, swaying to the music and bobbing his head to the drum beat.

I just wanted to be normal— feel normal, for once in my sad, overdramatic, angsty life.

But that wasn't going to happen. The best I could hope for was to pretend I was normal. To pretend that I was having fun, even though every cell in my body was screaming to run out of the building, through the streets of London and crawl back to safety of my quiet bedroom.

So, I embraced my inner Matty and forced a smile, flinching anytime someone trespassed too far into my personal space, praying it would all be over soon.

And if I'm being honest, this plan sort of worked for a while. I was so focused on blending in and not having a nervous breakdown that I almost had a good time... during the first act, that is.

The second opening act was... unique. I pride myself on having a pretty broad musical taste, but there's only so many out-of-tune rock-clarinet solo's one can listen to without getting a headache. And I wasn't the only one less than impressed. Remus stopped swaying, Sirius disappeared entirely, and at my left, two boys from the second group were having a heated argument about the difference between crocodiles and alligators.

A hand gripped around my arm. I flinched. "Paisley!" A familiar voice shouted in my ear.

I turned and saw Alice's kind round face. "We're going to the toilet!" she said loudly.

"Oh..." I didn't understand why she was telling me this. Maybe she needed directions? "It's just that way—over by the—"

She shook her head with a laugh. "We know where the toilet is!"