The drums hit like thunder. Bass rattled teeth. The lights strobed across a sea of moving bodies.
Then the piano entered, causing everything else to halt.
Nathan Vale, hood thrown back and his wild hair with sweat streaking down his temple before it even began, stepped to the mic, grin stretching across his face like he owned the night. It turns out he likes to appreciate songs from other artists, and he plays them here.
He leaned forward, voice low and teasing.
"Is this the real life…"
The crowd roared back.
"Is this just fantasy?"
Roy froze.
He hadn't expected it to hit this hard.
Nathan hit the key once and hit a sharp, dirty chord that cut clean through the noise.
Boom. Clap. Boom. Boom. Clap. Boom. Clap. Boom. Boom. Clap.
The drummer kept the beat. The bassist grooved low. The lights flickered with each pulse.
Nathan prowled across the stage like a man possessed, voice rolling out in rhythm.
"Caught in a landslide. No escape from reality.
Open your eyes, and look up to the skies and see…"
The crowd howled.
A beer flew into the air and splashed somewhere behind them.
Roy and Kieran looked at each other and then, without saying a word, drifted into the chaos.
They slipped between swaying backs and raised hands until they were swallowed by bodies moving as one.
Kieran laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "Alright… I get it now."
Roy didn't answer.
He just watched Nathan.
Really watched.
He really was like Freddy Mercury junior.
The way his fingers danced across the keys. The crowd jumped in unison while they went on. Kieran threw his head back and screamed the lyrics with them.
Roy didn't scream. But he didn't look away either.
For the first time in a while…
He felt something move inside him.
Not envy. Not admiration.
Just a quiet thought.
"…Maybe skipping school is justified."
Nathan hopped off the stage, towel around his neck, sweat running down his jawline like war paint. The crowd was still buzzing, bodies dispersing like waves after a storm.
He spotted Roy and made a beeline.
Clap.
He dapped Roy up.
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
Then he looked at Kieran.
Kieran nodded casually. "Good performance."
Nathan gave him one back, a nod lacking warmth.
Then he smirked and turned to Roy. "So, what are you doing lurking back here like some undercover agent? Shouldn't you be in the front row drinking cheap vodka and judging people?"
Roy shrugged. "Our form teacher sent me."
Nathan paused mid-wipe of his forehead. "Huh?"
"Wanted to know why you're not showing up to school. Says if someone doesn't talk to you soon, they'll throw you into juvenile detention or fine your parents into debt."
Nathan clicked his tongue. "Expected. They love acting like they care."
Roy continued. "I don't, though. I'm just here so I can report back that I tried. Get my predicted A. Everyone wins."
Nathan stared at him.
Then laughed.
"Honesty. It is always refreshing."
Kieran cut in, crossing his arms. "Look, man… I get it. School's suffocating sometimes. But you're clearly not talentless. Doing music, performing like that. There's potential there. If you go back and get your attendance sorted, you'll actually have options. Future-wise."
Nathan slowly turned his head toward Kieran.
Expression blank. Silence pooled between them.
Then…
A slow exhale.
"…Are you one of those?"
Kieran tilted his head. "One of what?"
Nathan lowered his towel, slinging it over his shoulder.
"One of those 'fix your life' preachers."
Kieran held his gaze. "Pardon?"
Nathan's eyes narrowed faintly.
"You know." Nathan gestured vaguely, eyes narrowing. "The ones who see someone doing something they actually care about and immediately start preaching about 'options' and 'future prospects' like they're reading off a government pamphlet."
Kieran's jaw tightened. "I wasn't… "
"You were." Nathan cut him off, voice flat. "You think because you sat through one performance, you suddenly understand what I'm doing? What I want?"
Roy watched the two of them, feeling the air shift, like the crowd's leftover heat had condensed into something heavier.
Kieran didn't back down. "I'm saying you're good. That's all."
"And I'm saying," Nathan stepped closer, eyes sharp, "that not everyone wants the same tedious, predictable life path you do."
Then he smiled… A deadpan, condescending curl of the lip.
"You really are boring, Kieran Nazaroff."
The words cut through the air like a cymbal crash. Roy blinked once. Kieran's smirk twitched.
But before he could reply, Nathan started walking toward the bar entrance.
He lifted his hand without looking back.
"You want me back in school, Roy? Cool. Convince me. But leave your motivational speaker at the door."
And just like that… He vanished into the pub.
Kieran stood silent. Roy gave him a pat on the shoulder.
"Let's go, boring man."
Kieran scoffed. "I'd rather be boring than a discount rockstar."
But even he knew… He had always hated him.