Do It Now, Remember It Later

Chapter Three - When I Step Out On The Scene

We Are The In Crowd’s set is drawing to a close. I can feel the bass thrumming in my chest, so much so that I can no longer feel my heartbeat and I’m not even sure if it’s still pumping. I feel sick with excitement.

Cal stands beside me, beating his drumsticks on the back of a speaker. “Ready?” he yells over the music, not that I can really hear him.

“As I’ll ever be,” I answer, annunciating each word. He grins in reply and goes back to drumming along with the song, his sticks a beige blur.

The set draws to a close, the crowd shrieking. We high-five WATIC as they walk past, and Tay Jardine calls out to us, “Have fun out there!”

“We will!” Dean answers, his grin wide. Milly looks to me and we share a knowing smile; Dean practically worships Tay Jardine.

We hurry round the back of the stage, going from the wings of the West stage to the East stage. I can see the crowd writhing and swaying like waves as people struggle to make the small distance between the two stages. Some people trickle away, heading for other bands, but I don’t mind; the crowd out there is by far the biggest we’ve ever played to, and at the thought my stomach seems to plummet through the floor, dropping like an elevator whose chords have been cut.

I focus on my breathing - in and out, in and out – as the official next to us counts us down. Nicholas grabs my shoulder for a second, squeezing it reassuringly, before he waltzes onto the stage. The crowd erupts at the sight of him, growing even louder when Cal follows suit. Dean rushes on stage and, exchanging quick grins, Milly and I follow. Microphone in hand, I feel so out of place. What am I doing on this stage, singing for these people? Yet as soon as the beat starts and the lights begin pulsing in time and the crowd, for as far as I can see, surges in recognition of the riff, my doubt begins to make way for pure adrenaline. I sing and they sing back to me, we jump and they jump with us, and I start to live for the moment.

By the last song my limbs and lungs are screaming but the excitement I feel overwhelms it all. It’s with reluctance that I have to walk off stage. Dean picks me up and swings me around, and when he plants me on my feet I’m face-to-face with Kellin Quinn again. He smiles at me, and it’s at this moment that I become aware of the layer of sweat on my skin and how dishevelled my hair is, as though I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.

He leans towards me and puts his lips close to my ear. “You guys were awesome!”

“Thanks!” I shout back, acutely aware of how close our faces are. Up close, even in the dim light, I can see his eyes are a kind of mossy brown colour, green and brown with a hint of blue. “I’m really annoyed because we’re missing your set; we’ve got an interview!” I add.

Kellin waves my comment away. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, “there’s plenty of time for you to see us play. Just make sure you do sometime, yeah?”

He grins at me and I grin back. “Definitely!”

“Anyway, I’d better go. Got songs to sing and all that!”

“Break a leg!”

Kellin laughs at that, his eyes screwing up tight as he does so. “I’ll give it my best shot!”

As I follow Dean backstage I hear the opening to Do It Now, Remember It Later, and Kellin’s voice yelling ‘London!’. The crowd screams in reply, and I smile almost involuntarily at the sound of it.

We're a little bit late for our interview, and Dean is practically dragging me along behind him like I'm a disobedient dog when Vic Fuentes and his brother Mike stop us in the hallway, waving flyers in our face. “BBQ at ours later,” Mike says. “The weather seems alright for it,” he adds with a shrug and a laugh.