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He drops down right in front of me and stands. I don't see a harness or ropes for the stunt.
How did he scale the crowd?
Like on those of a feline, the light bounces off the tapetum lucidum of his retina. For the record, I owe the term to my mother, the former medical anthropologist. Anyway, the phenomenon gives his stare a glow-in-the-dark effect. A gleam, I notice in the eyes of a few other attendees standing with Aurora and me in the pit.
His long hair drips with sweat on what remains of his t-shirt, revealing his glistening torso.
He approaches, our faces highlight the arena's screens, all can see us. The fans scream in hysteria.
He leans and whispers, "can I taste you?"
Before I can react, Aurora and I find ourselves gripped by the black ops protection. They pull us through the crowd, we scream, but no one seems to take notice. Everyone's eyes are back on Jesus, who captivates the herd of wailing spectators like a guru.
Dozens of hands lift and carry him back to the stage.
The episode was my first encounter with Jesus. Not the Holy one, but the most unorthodox sexiest male beast that has ever walked.
How did I get here?
A little twenty-four-hour rewind is in order.
The bats flew low; I pulled the blinds. Their number seems to have multiplied; the summer sky in sunset orange found itself darkened by the fleets of bats.
From my bedroom's door frame, Aurora chucked a black envelope, "what's this?" I said while I turned the card back to the front.
"Open."
"What is it, Aurora?"
She lifted her eyes to the ceiling and came to sit on my bed, "you know how to spoil a surprise. Open before I go and get a refund."
"Okay, Okay," I took a deep breath and my paper-knife, which I slid across the top of the envelope.
Aurora laughed, "dear Lord, you really can't do things like ordinary people. I'm the rich girl here, and I rip packages open. You'd think you were the reincarnation of some princess or something."
"I'm sorry, I know that my manners and habits get on your nerves, but I can't do otherwise. Besides, this paper-knife is a gift from my father. I try to use it as much as I can," I said with a fleeing sheepish stare.
"There you go again; your parents only live two hours from here, not in Lapland, just openㅡ."
My eyes widened, "oh my, Aurora, don't tell me-."
"Yes."
"No"
"Yes," she nodded like a dashboard nodding dog toy.
"But they were sold out everywhere," I exclaimed.
"Hey, who do you think I am? What daddy's little girl wants is what she gets. I had my father's PA go to Altlanta to fetch them."
"They must have cost a fortune," I looked down at the charcoal black tickets in my hand, unable to seize I had them.
"Nothing is too expensive for my best friend in the world."
"You're fabulous, Aurora," I jumped to hug her.
"Calm down; you'll break me with your hug."
I don't hold grudges; making errors is inherent in human nature. Aurora made a few, and she's trying to mend them. I'm glad to have her ad a friend, especially now she's offered me a ticket for The Tempest, my all-time favorite band.
"I know how sad you were not to be able to come with me to New York to see them."
"Oh my gosh, Aurora, I'm going to see Jesus Tepes."
"Yep, with me, of course."
Jesus Tepes is your drop-dead gorgeous rockstar. I love the group, but its leader is, oh gosh, I can't even describe the vibes I get when thoughts of him fill my mind.
The guy is the reason why I dated Lorenzo. Like Jesus, he had long hair and all. Looking back, I realize my mistake. It was the Jesus Tepes fangirl who desired him, and because Lorenzo had that doppelganger feel, I hung on to the man like a parasite, even when he ran dirty behind my back.
Shame cloaks me when I recall how I bought Lorenzo homemade meals in jail when he got caught selling cannabis. The worst thing of it all, despite the signs showing he was rotten as fuck, there I was faithful as a golden retriever wagging my tail at him and fetching all the shit balls he threw.
Until the Aurora gate, but it's behind me now, and I'm going to see my idol Jesus Tepes.
"Wait a minute Aurora, but the concert is tomorrow. Look at my hair, and I don't know what to wear."
Aurora chuckled, "hair, which hair?"
My hair has grown a little, let's say 1.5 inches.
I swiped my hands on my head and fell back on the mattress, "I should shave it again."
"No, I thought you wanted to grow it back. I'm not sure Jesus is into Skunk Anansie or Deborah Dyer double."
I sat back up and shrugged, "Jesus won't even notice me anyway with all the people who will be there."
The press expects the whole of Crimson at The Tempest concert. It's the most significant event we've had here, since forever.
And so we found ourselves in Crimson's Arena. The city's population seemed tripled. What shocked me more was the presence of the military corps.
Those in blue dressed like navy seals stood at the roof of the arena for the most. Up close, their uniform had what resembled a falcon for a hawk and me, in Aurora's opinion, embroidered on the left sleeve. Whiĺe, the black ops swat team wannabes, harbored a dragon on the breast pocket. I heard about them; they're the band's protection. I did not expect the group to have so many.
At the same time, I understand. A fanatic did attempt to stab Jesus on stage. He told the FBI that The Tempest was Lucifer's spires wanting to soak the world in malevolence. The stalker also maintained he wounded the rockstar who refuted everything.
Many YouTube videos made tried to show Jesus does not age or that he never eats a meal. There are also many testimonies of women victims of memory loss after the concerts, but no one has ever found signs of abuse or traces of drugs to incriminate The Tempest. To this, one can add the theories about the fact their concerts and fan meetings are always nocturnal like tonight and that minors find themselves automatically logged off when they try to access the official website. No fan believes the rumors, this mystic is what attracts people.
I don't care either; call me unconscious. All I know is I would let Jesus have me anytime.
