What We Trade Our Hearing For (a North and South Story)

10. Closer to the Edge

"Can you imagine a time when the truth ran free?

The birth of a song, the death of a dream

Closer to the edge

This never-ending story

Paid for with pride and fate

We all fall short of glory

Lost in our fate"

-Thirty Seconds to Mars

Maggie

Unrest was palpable in the air, so thick Maggie could almost taste it. She was surprised to see so many people packed into the Butcher's Block, the bar owned by one of Nick's many friends. It seemed like there wasn't a person in the city who didn't know Nick, and half of them owed him favors. He'd called in one for this meeting, needing a space big enough to hold everyone. The owner, Butch, wasn't exactly pleased with the arrangement. His bar had live music many nights of the week, so he was concerned with the possible effects of his name being associated with the boycotters. Nick had assured him that there was nothing to worry about.

There were a lot of people Maggie recognized, as she looked around from her vantage point at the bar, where she and Becca had set up camp to stay out of the way. She saw roadies, bartenders, bouncers, and various young people that were often at the same shows she went to with Nick and Becca. Seeing all these people together, it hit Maggie full force how many lives were intertwined, how many would be affected by what would happen next.

Everyone turned their attention toward the stage, where Nick was standing. "Everyone! First, I'd like to thank all y'all for coming," he said, answering cheers drowning out his voice. "Now, we all know why we are here. Things can't keep on how they are. A lot of us are low on work--"

"There'd be more work if the owners hadn't got so greedy!" a voice in the crowd cut him off, with more cheers following.

Nick waited for the crowd to quiet before continuing, "And none of them have shown that they're willing to compromise. They're nothing without us! We deserve a say in the way things are done, but do they listen?"

The crowd answered with a resounding "No," getting more riled by the minute.

"We must make them listen!" Nick punctuated his statement with a fist in the air. "Soon enough, there will be no shows, no work, and no music. What are we going to do about it?"

Word had spread, of course, of Nick's previous diatribe, so this time the crowd knew the answer and were able to take up the chant.

"Boycott!" It rattled the eaves of the bar, and Maggie imagined it reverberating down the street, echoing in between the lines of the skyscrapers, sounding deep into every dive bar and concert hall in the city.

When the crowd finally settled again, Nick picked back up, "This week, Thornton will announce his festival lineup, tickets will go on sale- but no one will buy them!" This worked the crowd into even more of a frenzy, everyone talking over each other. Nick apparently heard something in the clamor that he didn't like, since he was suddenly whistling for attention. "No! Stop that thinking right there. No violence, no weapons. How can we get respect and recognition if we act like the thugs they think we are?"

The majority of the crowd seemed to agree, though some seemed more reluctant than others. "Good," Nick was satisfied with this response. "Friday it is then. Friday, when Excelsior tickets go on sale, that's when it starts. Let's make this scene a ghost town! Let the Ghosting begin!" With that, he stepped off the stage and into the crowd waiting to congratulate him on his master plan.