Boys of the Dark | ✓ (2015)

21. The Lost Boy

"Hell yes!" Brody said.

"Fuck yeah!" Paris exclaimed. 

"Let's do this shit," Ryland answered. 

A countdown was heard from a speaker and the boys bent down as instructed. 

The nerves in Ryland were trembling and sweat already collected at the back of his neck.  He ruffled his hair, adjusting the microphone attached to his collar.  They were going to do this.  He suddenly thought about the people in his life who helped him get this far: the boys, HB, Delilah---

"Delilah," he whispered.

Then he sprung up, the board shooting him up.  But he wasn't ready so when he shot up, he flew up sideways and fell on his side. 

The crowd roared with excitement and he shook his head, hands grabbing the floor. 

Laughter broke out and he heard Paris and the boys laughing in their microphones.  They exchanged some things that made the crowd laugh and he slowly crawled back up.

Paris made a joke and the crowd laughed.  Ryland saw Paris smiling at him and Ryland couldn't help but smile.  He stood up on his own, dusting himself off.  Then he looked up to the crowd and with an awkward wave, said, "Hi."

Immediately the crowd erupted in screams and shouts and he almost had to take a step back from the loud noise.  His heart pumped out of his chest, everything hammering and his ears started ringing.  "I..."  A hand was on his shoulder and he turned. 

"You okay, mate?" asked Paris, his microphone turned off.

Ryland gulped and Paris's hand stroked his shoulder.  "It's just you, me and the boys, okay?  Just the four of us. Having a fucking bitchin time like we always do.  Okay?"  He gave Ryland that smile---the one that Ryland knew was the reason he befriended him. 

Ryland nodded and he watched his friend turn his microphone back on.  Paris turned towards the darkness covered in flashing lights.  "Whose ready to have a bitchin time?!"

The crowd came to life and that nearly stole Ryland's breath away.  He turned towards his set, the DJ booth already set up for him.  He adjusted the microphone again and stepped into the booth.  He put the headphones on, and the boys already took their positions, their banter between each other already getting the crowd excited.  And they haven't even played yet! 

"Hey everyone," said Paris. 

More screams.

"I'm Paris."

"Brody."

"Lucan."

"Ryland."

"And this is our song, Lost Boy." 

They all waited for their cue---waited for Ryland whose fingers hovered over the keyboard.  "This is it," he told himself.  He mentally spoke.  "This is it.  This is what you've been waiting for.  Do it.  Do it.  Do it."  He pressed the button down and heard the comforting sound. 

The familiar warmth and glow from these sounds brought him to life and he clicked another button, picking the beat up.  The bass rocked the theatre, vibrating his heart and the ground under them.  Then he clicked the third button, Lucan following suit with a beat. 

Ryland closed his eyes, leaned in to reach for that magical grasp and began to sing.  The world came alive as Paris started playing his guitar, Lucan following after to complete the sound. 

It wasn't until the crowd started singing the whole chorus and that's when Lucan opened his eyes.  He got chills, hearing the voices of thousands singing his song that he once wrote.  It was haunting, it was eerie, it was phenomenal.