Living with Hope ✓ [ boyxboy ] [ Completed ]

23

Ivan Petrov

It was past midnight but the night was still young. What I thought would be a two hour long concert stretched until the next day. Cal and his band had been playing request after request of My Chem songs for more than four hours, but they were far from stopping. Cal even asked a fan for a bottle of water.

At around one in the morning, Cal held onto the microphone stand and panted below the mic, his pink hair matted with sweat. "I'm gonna call this a night. One of the best nights I've had."

The crowd roared with a tired zeal. Leslie, the drummer, had his head thrown behind as he shifted on his stool. F.K., everyone's favorite bassist after tonight, still seemed to have some energy left, occasionally shooting a wry smile to someone in the crowd, some female person.

Cal took a bow. "I wish the night lasted forever."

And with that, the band - whatever their name is right now - leave the stage. Most of the crowd dwindle out, heading home.

Hope still hasn't let go of my hand. I haven't either. We stand as still as rocks as a river of people flow on both sides of us, but never between us. We're stuck like glue. I want to say something but I can't, I don't want to ruin this.

We stay that way until all that's left of the gig is an overused stage and a barren meadow, and two boys who don't want this night to end.

I don't know how long we stand with our arms pressed together but long enough for Cal, F.K. and Leslie to come out of their hideout or whatever and look at us with wide eyes. I'm frozen because I've never consciously felt his skin on mine for this long. Maybe I have the same effect on him?

Cal just smiles at us and walks over. "There's a midnight fair or something a couple of miles away. F.K. says it runs for twenty-four hours one day a month. Have you been there before?"

Hope shakes his head beside me and I wordlessly do the same.

Leslie nods, his hair tied back into a ponytail. I don't even want to think of my hair at this point - it's been uncombed and untied ever since I got the fracture - I can't make my hair with just one hand and I didn't want anyone else's help.

Yes I've got a massive ego. Wanna talk about it?

"Have you ever been to one of our shows before this?" Leslie asks.

We shake our heads again. F.K. nods. "So first time, then? Guess we could all go to that fair together."

Cal smiles at her and then at us. He's been smiling all night. "Need a ride?"

"No, uh. We came in my car." Hope is stuttering. Now that's a first.

"So the fair," Cal says, blowing away all the awkwardness from the air. "Can I come with you guys? It becomes awfully quiet when I hitch a ride with these two after a show." He gestures at his bandmates. "They're all tired and I need to talk to reenergise myself."

"Sure." I'm calmer now. Cal's voice makes you feel like you've known him forever. Hope looks at me with an expression I cannot decode and then nods approvingly. The three of us head to the convertible in silence. F.K. and Leslie board an Uber.

As Hope drives us to the fair, Cal and I talk about one of the only things we have in common - My Chemical Romance. He's the one doing most of the talking though, I'm just listening. He knows more about them than I do, which isn't very surprising because when I spent all my free time listening to their songs, he'd read Frerard smut on a fanfiction site and stalk their Twitters. I guess he's more obsessed with them than I am.