SMELLING ROSES

Chapter Five

I had one week. I no longer had a summer to give. The restaurant would be open soon, and my commitments would reclaim their place. This was already out of character for me. I would never do something just because a boy asked. Giving up the busiest time of the year so a boy could make my dreams come true. It sounded like a plot from one of my animation stories. A Nora who made rash decisions based on how she felt. I wasn't that girl. I won't be that girl.

It was so late, the buses weren't even running. I had no choice but to dip into my emergencies-only stash (and this was not one!) and take a taxi to a venue I'd never seen.

It wasn't long before I waited outside, so tired, I could barely keep my eyes open. A song's bass line rippled through the street puddles, and I woke up. I took in the building's height. An array of colors flickered through the opened door, but for a show that was moments from starting, the line wrapped around the building.

This wasn't a one-off. I thought Wren was a struggling musician at best. One that posted terrible covers on YouTube, riding on his good looks. Judging by the crowd, he must be good. Being attractive could only get you so far.

The show's lineup was two local performers. A "best-kept secret" alternative band called The Rest Left and their opening act, Wren Wade.

After he texted to skip the line, I stood before a bulky bouncer compressed in a black t-shirt. He wanted to accentuate his muscles, but I knew he was suffocating. Beauty is pain.

As he glowered at me, I smiled at the greeter in front. With no ticket, I slid him my I.D.

"Nora Campbell..." He scanned the list with little effort. "You're not on here."

Clearly. He waved his pasty hand into the air and dismissed me. Looks like someone wants to get cussed out. But when two desperate girls tried to hurl me out of the way, I stood my ground. Twisting my lips, I could feel the words retreat as I spoke. Why is this so embarrassing? "He put me under Songbird."

The greeter's head snapped up, and finally, all his attention was mine. I bit my tongue, crossing my arms. Now, I'm important. He didn't look at the list again. A trace of a smile played on his lips as he called over a redheaded staff member. "Lex! Take her to the front. She's Wren's guest."

The overzealous girls drew in a breath. They trampled one another to get a glimpse of me. Damn. I wish I put more effort into my outfit. This tie-dye shirt and lime green shorts combo was giving struggle's finest.

As one caught my sleeve, the redhead took my hand. "Right this way."

We emerged from the confined, dark city into the embodiment of Wren's wildest dreams. A kaleidoscope of colors spiraled across the walls and danced against the cheeks of the crowd. It was packed. We waded through the sea of spectators as anticipation rattled their fidgeting hands and feet. I wasn't sure how many of them were for Wren or the band, but he had a lot of support. He really had made his dreams come true.

After an eternity, we made it to the front and the throng of fans tightened. Wringing my hands around the rails, I watched helplessly as the ravenous crowd devoured the redhead. "Enjoy the show, Songbird!"

The blood in the veins bumped to the song stuck on repeat. I whirled my scrunchie around my finger. Nipping at the skin of my lip, I threw my braids into a high pony when the lights dimmed. A man sauntered on stage, and the crowd's screams felt electric.

"Alright! How you guys feeling?" His voice ricocheted through the building, igniting the venue's energy. "Our first performer, a lot of you already know, but some of you don't and let me tell you, you're in for a treat! It's my honor to say, please welcome to the stage," he paused for dramatic effect, and the crowd ate it up. "Wren Wade!"