Grey

Four

His dark hair fell over his forehead, fingers blindly brushing some of it back - uselessly as the tendrils fell right back into place. He scanned the crowd, honey-colored brown eyes squinting as he took the view in. The left side of his lips curled up ever so slightly, etching a charming smirk on his face.

"Very nice to see you, Los Angeles."

His simple words fueled hysteria. The guitars were suddenly very loud, in beautiful balance with the drums and bass, as they started on their first song. I looked over at Em and Bryce, smiling to myself as they both stared in awe, subtle bobbing heads. Even I realized my leg was bouncing in tune with the melody.

While I was sure my overly enthusiastic guests were enjoying themselves, I couldn't confirm - completely entranced with the show in front of me. I was too focused to second guess anything, any poor opinion drifting to the very back of my mind. Song after song after song was played with very little chit-chat in between. Somehow, it worked - they didn't need to work the crowd, the music was doing it for them. I was surprised by Finn's stage presence, expecting a shameless thirst for attention. He couldn't have been more the opposite, so hyper aware of his playing and singing that he barely moved from his position. When he did, his eyes would drift down to watch his hands strum the guitar, eyebrows carefully furrowed.

"They're so good," Em spoke to no one in particular during an intermission between songs. I nodded, eyes trained on the stage. "Seriously Rory, I don't know what you were talking about."

"I think I have a crush on him," Bryce finally spoke as I glanced over, laughing at his face. "Christ, the man has it all."

The set transitioned as Finn passed his guitar off and took off his leather jacket. The cameras once again focused on him as he appeared on the big screens. Fans violently screeched as he tossed the jacket to the side, giving a dramatic eye roll at their reaction, accompanied by a shy smile. His hair clung to the sweat on his forehead and on his neck, where a long cross necklace dangled.

All of my assumptions and opinions aside, I was beginning to understand the appeal - strictly from a visual perspective.

He returned to the mic as the crew shuffled in the darkness behind him, rolling a piano out onto the stage. He cleared his throat, looking out at the sea of people looking back at him.

"We're White Noise," he matter-of-factly said, cheers rattling up and down the rows. "It's bloody fantastic to be here. I'm going to introduce you to the band. I'd say my name but, uh... I'm not really that important, just a stand in. The far more talented frontman couldn't make it tonight."

He sheepishly grinned, chuckling at his own joke before introducing his three bandmates. I realized a smile had tugged at the corners of my lips, forcing it down. He walked with the mic towards the piano, speaking into it as he took a seat.

"I, uh... I wrote this next song a few years ago, for someone who meant the world to me," he vaguely explained, eyes trained on the piano keys. He hovered his hands over them, keeping his gaze down. "I'm very sad she can't be here tonight, but it would make me very happy if you sang as loud as you possibly can along with me, yeah?"

The song was one I hadn't heard on the album, clearly having a visceral effect on the crowd as they swayed, singing the words aloud. The piece was haunting, the lyrics capturing a painful tale of love and loss. While the subject of the matter was a mystery, as the song came to an end and the lights went out, I could just barely make out Finn's silhouette as he kissed the tips of his pointer and middle finger before directing them upwards.

The rest of the show went by in a blur, but I enjoyed myself. Em and Bryce's post-show bliss was contagious as we fought our way through the crowds, exiting the venue and heading back towards my car. They were in deep discussion about where we should grab drive-thru when I felt a forceful nudge to my arm.

I glanced over, a knowing grin painted on Em's lips. "Admit it. You love White Noise."

I snickered to myself, crossing my arms to warm them up as we continued to walk at a leisurely pace. "They're fine."

"Oh come on, Rory," Bryce laughed loudly, calling me out. "You were having a great time, you like them."

"Yes, they're fine."

"Rory."

"Yeah, they put on a good show," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "They're good, alright? They're good."

Pleased with my admission, we then transitioned back to the important topic of food - settling on In-N-Out. We were somehow able to escape the craze at the exit in a somewhat timely manner, getting me out of my pants and into bed at a reasonable hour.

My usual Friday nights weren't anything extraordinarily exciting, usually spent watching movies at home with Em and Bryce. When I'd been with Max, I was out and about most nights - done up head to toe with a face I didn't recognize and an outfit I didn't like - but others did. That sentiment extended to what I was doing, and who I was doing it with. The weekend never came without an agenda.

As a fresh 23-year-old with enough cynicism to last me until I was 40, I realized that my nights in, with no company but my own, were my best. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling with Mazzy Star blasting from my laptop speakers, completely content. My mind wondered, and landed briefly on White Noise and the evening that had unfolded before I ended up there.

The album hadn't landed with me, pumping between my ears on a night I shouldn't have wasted listening to any music. My mental state wasn't where it needed to be and mixed with my existing ill opinion of Finn, the probability of it ending on a positive note was zero to none. I knew my review had likely given them a very brief laugh - knowing they were buried in the opposite - so I didn't feel too bad. Regardless, my ego was bruised, knowing I'd publicly rated them poorly when my music taste was better, stronger than that. They weren't so bad after all.

I dozed off quickly, exhausted from the concert and for once in a very long time... feeling like I'd been very wrong about a negative assumption.