Disharmony

Bad Reputation

Standing in front of the dirty bathroom mirror, she tugged lightly on the bill of her cap, pulling it over her eyes in an effort to hide her features. She never thought she would have to resort to this behavior. Generally, she wouldn't go to such great lengths to hide her identity; however, it was necessary in this case. Henry, her manager, never would have let her come otherwise. And the fact that he didn't know just made the entire situation all the more exciting.

Nodding at her reflection in the mirror, she pulled down the sleeves of her red plaid shirt and used them to cover her palms as she reached for the bathroom door, doing her best not to look utterly disgusted. Pulling open the door, she stepped into the small hallway and looked for a gap in the crowd.

Taking a deep breath, she tightened her fingers around the strap of the leather messenger bag which was slung over her shoulder and weaved her way towards the main floor. The venue was packed, which was unsurprising, however she was slightly impressed by the wide variety of attendees.

The presence of teenage girls was standard at the concert of any young, attractive male singer. What was unexpected, was the mixture of males as well as actual adults that were present. It seemed this singer captured the attention of an extremely diverse audience. This was one of the many reasons Henry had gotten in touch with him in the first place.

Making sure to keep her head down, she pushed politely through the crowd until she found an empty barstool near the back of the event space. Pubs, bars, and ballrooms were not the sort of venues she usually associated with performers, but the more she had come to learn about him, the more she realized it fit his style. It was yet another example of how different they were and yet another reason she was wary of their new arrangement.

Sighing, she clutched her bag in her lap and crossed her legs as she slid onto the barstool and waited for the concert to start. The lights dimmed a few minutes later and her ears were immediately met with deafening high pitched screams. Grimacing, she resisted the urge to plug her ears as the first opening act walked on stage.

Precisely fifty-seven minutes and two opening acts later, the lights on the stage finally dimmed for the main performer. She had lost track of the number of times she had checked her phone for the time during the first two acts. It had been a while since she'd experienced a concert from the point of view of an audience member and she'd forgotten what it felt like: the anticipation, the excitement, the impatience. She felt all of those emotions before her shows as well, however, they seemed more poignant when she was waiting for someone else.

He finally entered the stage, adjusting the strap of his guitar on his shoulder as he smiled widely at the audience. The screaming continued as he waved, finally subsiding when he raised a finger and pressed it to his lips, urging the crowd to be silent.

Once the room was so quiet she could swear the world could hear her heart pounding, he nodded happily and began to strum his guitar, humming softly into the microphone. His style of music was unlike anything she'd ever heard on mainstream radio stations before, however audiences seemed to take to it like fish to water, leaving the entire room captivated and entranced as he swayed on stage and began to sing.

His voice was deep and smooth and melodic, leaving her paralyzed as she listened. It washed over her in soft waves, spreading through her veins and warming her entire body, causing her muscles to relax. She had never been to a show where the audience was so quiet, yet so completely enthralled by the performer.

His set list was a good mixture of upbeat anthems and slow, romantic ballads, yet it seemed he did the entire show in exactly the same way: simply standing in front of a microphone and strumming his guitar.