Arrows & Anchors (SAMPLE)

Chapter 1: Rush

Well, they were my favorite band, too, but Laina was borderline obsessed. She had recently turned 24 years old, but when it came to these ultra-talented musical artists, Laina seemed to be regressing toward her teenage years once more.

The poster my best friend had hanging on her bedroom wall—of the founding member and rhythm guitarist—was proof enough of that. I never asked how much she had spent on that thing, through her preferred online auction service. My only concern was how many lip prints she would leave behind on the glossy paper.

Quite a few, I imagined.

Firstly, and solely, I was a fan of the music. Sure, I'd skimmed through some band interviews in printed magazines here and there, but rarely felt compelled to read about the personal lives of most celebrities. What was that old phrase? "Never meet your heroes?" I was sure, though, that Laina would have adamantly rejected that mindset, especially when it came to this new band. Still, I couldn't fault Laina for her growing infatuation with them. I gathered that she would not remain alone in her extreme adoration for very long.

And it was partially justifiable.

This band, after all, was like our very own hidden gem—starships preparing for take-off. And fully take off, I believed they soon would. They were already impressively successful musicians, but their talents, I decided, could not continue to stay relatively under the radar for much longer.

Well, if one could consider "under the radar" to be touring in various parts of the world, as a supporting artist.

Although they had played concerts around Europe and Asia earlier that year, this was their first time playing in the United States. We nearly thought the day would never come, but it had. As such, my best friend was redefining what it meant to be ecstatic. Greatly, I shared in her enthusiasm, even though our favorite band was opening for a much bigger act that Laina did not really care to see.

The more prominent act would take up a larger slot of time during the show, cutting our preferred band's set a bit shorter. Pressure built in my head to grasp the fact that it was entirely up to me, to ensure Laina did not miss a single beat of their set. She had stayed awake for thirty-three hours prior to the concert presale, to ensure she'd clinch our front row seats.

For someone that needed occasional assistance in modern technology—apart from social media platforms—that was quite a feat. If only we had known a computer genius of sorts at the time, to assist us in the endeavor.

Nonetheless, Laina had done it all on her own. Determination had paid off, and we had the tickets, but because of me, my best friend's efforts may have been squandered. It was a distinct possibility that we might have missed a few tunes of their set. No sooner did my ruminations of this begin, did Laina perk up again, to mimic my fears.

"It's okay if we miss the first few songs, Brooke," she chimed. With a flick of her chestnut-shaded strands, Laina gave the impression of being in a much more optimistic mood. "You look so beautiful in that dress, by the way. I don't think I've ever seen you in one before. Where'd you get that?"

"We won't miss anything," I snapped, with the guilt of this real possibility already weighing heavily on my mind. After taking a deep breath, I spoke with forced serenity. "...And thank you. I, uh... I just got it yesterday."

Sincerely, I hoped that Laina was telling the truth, about myself looking presentable enough in this coal-black dress, because I had been in such a rush to get out the apartment door, I had not even been able to take a good, solid look at myself. Our seats were close enough to the stage that it might have been fathomable for the musicians to notice us that evening.