PAUSED-Man of Whispers (Yandere! Bully x Reader)

21: Set the stage

"Our final act of the night...is the incredible. local. band...that we all know and love. This is their first ever sold out show, right here at The Music Box tonight. So please, make these hard ass motherfuckers feel welcome because we know you love them! Ladies and gentlemen...Grandmaster Guillotine!"

Scottie Wilde was a fantastic front man. His powerful voice I'd been waiting to hear was super impressive, with a heavy resonance that haunted the band's darker songs to a clear and smooth pitch that sent chills down my spine. This broad vocal range was matched with a a heightened version of his already captivating extravagant personality, he carried the mic stand around like his trophy, eyeing the screaming fans as he so passionately sung to them, pointing and winking with a killer smile. 

A few songs in and I was already banging my head along with the crowd, the energy was so weightless, and there was just Scott's wild antics on stage and the band's music to carry us away. The mosh pit was hectic, the smell of sweat, smoke and alcohol was the putrid disease of rock and roll I wasn't ready to loose myself in yet.

But Charlie let herself get lost in the crowd from our VIP seats on the second floor of the hall, and started crowd surfing below, waving up to us It was such a hysterical sight and Lila and I collapsed on each other laughing as she flowed on by. At the end of another banger, I screamed and jumped up and down, my voice hurting quite a bit by now. "SCOTTIE WILDE I CAME UP WITH YOUR STAGE NAME!!"

"NOTICE US YOU ASSHOLE!" Lila screamed, causing us to cackle up with laughter again. I didn't think I had an alcoholic drink yet, maybe I was just high off of the euphoric energy filling the venue. 

Scottie wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel and looked up at us, I honestly felt a little giddy when he saw us, it was like he had become some sort of superstar upstage instead of the ridiculous goofy Scott we knew.

"Alright everyone...here is our last song for the night. thank you all so much for coming out and supporting us even through all the bullshit that's been going on recently. our motto is to show the world we can still party like superstars in the face of adversity...so now...let's sing our lungs out for the final time tonight!"

And my vocal chords were no more when the set ended, I was left croaking like a toad but I was more than happy to abuse my voice when sharing my wonderful elation I was experiencing. I had never been so free in my life...this concert really was the beginning of something new, and hopefully with the new treaty put in place, we could all have fun nights like this where we go to bed stress free.

We all had to wait for the crowd to scatter to see Scott again, so meanwhile we all ordered something at the private backstage bar within the venue. Charlie held a tray of shots in her palm and walked over with a melodramatic swing in her hips. "Alright you sexy lot, first drinks are on me but I ain't shouting for you all tonight."

She placed the tray down roughly on our table, with a little spill from each shot glass. Evan put his hand to his forehead.

" Charlie, you had one job." He critiques disappointingly. Charlie held her hands to her bony hips and leaned forward and right into Evan's general comfort zone.

"Oops sorry a little drop fell out, let me buy a whole new tray just to make you feel better Evan." Charlie clicked her tongue like a drag queen and sashayed over to her seat on my left. I stared at the little glasses of clear liquid and looked back up at the bartenders washing glasses and serving in the background. They were all at least over 25...one of them with hairline receding already.

"How is this possible?" I muttered to nobody in particular as everyone pinched a shot glass. 

"We can thank the Timberwolves for that one." Lila loosely puts it, unyielding from staring down her drink. She brushed away her brown locks and rare pleasing form of a smirk emerged as her eyes flicked up to mine, and my immediate perception was the subtle disconnectedness she possessed within conversation was withdrawn completely.