When Shadows Rise | II: The Count

Ch. 9 | Achilles' Heel

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Miwa

Itch. Itch. Itch.

Miwa hopped from one platformed boot to another. She felt another itch prickling from the back of her neck and alleviated it. Then another near her leg. Anyone might think her skin was being attacked by an army of mosquitoes or that it was a nervous tick because she was backstage and in just a few moments notice, the DJ would pass the floor to her and her band.

But it was neither of those things. One— why would there be mosquitoes inside of a building that reeked with the aroma of nutty alcohol and foul stench of body odor from everyone dancing until they dropped? And wasn't the temperature getting colder? So it definitely wasn't mosquitoes. And two— it wasn't her nerves speaking because not only did she have experience performing in front of an audience only several hundreds of times, but tonight her band was going to perform one of her favorite songs: 'Black on Black', by The Riot Dolls— only the best all-girls band in punk rock genre. On the contrary, she was excited for that.

Her itching and scratching was. . . an inconvenience. A growing inconvenience that almost tempted her to run back to her dressing room and check her phone to see if that jerkface Tobias replied to her text. But she was way past that now. Any moment and—

"What's up, party people?!?" The DJ's voice boomed through the mic. "The music is hot but this crowd is hotter because only the best get into Nocturne! This is DJ Razor and now let's give it up for a performance brought to you by The Hellcats!"

A round of applause followed. Then the curtains pulled back. Miwa and the rest of her band piled onto the stage. The band's drummer, Vincent, did four taps with his drumsticks, launching Miwa and her friend Greg to initiate the intro of the song with a distorted sound that came from their electric guitars. Then stepped Bea, the band's lead singer, to the center of the stage, microphone in her hand. In the spotlight, Miwa seriously thought her friend was Avril Lavigne, for they rocked that leather-jacket-and-corset-tutu-skirt-dress outfit and long-hair-with-shaved-side hairstyle. It also helped that Bea almost sounded like Avril when she sang the first note, which reminded Miwa why Bea was deserving of the lead singer role.

Combined with the ragged but smooth transition of the bass guitar from their bassist, Dylan, it was the perfect recipe for the first couple of rows to stomp their feet and clap and whistle. Miwa would never, ever get tired of this— the slight stinging sensation leftover on her fingers from her guitar strings, the sharp vibrations that shook her core like jelly, the adrenaline rush— even if she got to only experience these familiar feelings and sensations for one hour every Saturday night, she felt like she was living in a world she didn't ever want to leave from.

The crowd exploded into a ring of applause and whooping as Miwa and her band ended their final song. They waved in gratitude and stepped down, handing the stage back to the DJ. No more than a few seconds after DJ Razor turned his mixtape back on, Bea and Vincent glued their lips together like two attracting magnets, Bea jumping up and looping her arms around Vincent's neck while straddling her legs around his waist.

"Oh my god, get a room." Miwa made a face as she unstrapped her guitar band. No matter what place or time it was, Bea and Vincent were always in a horny mood. Once, they got turned on simply by inserting the keys into the janitor's closet in high school.

"Can I help it if he looks so-o-o sexy after playing?" Bea squished Vincent's cheeks and gave him another kiss.

"You're making me regret choosing your boyfriend to be our drummer."