Title: Looking Forward Status: Complete Characters: Anon, Fang, Naser, Reed, Spears, Trish Rating: SFW Classification: One-Shot Author: Anonymous Summary: Alternative version of the first concert in the game, based on the idea of Anon getting transferred to Volcano High at the beginning of the senior year, instead of in the middle. Fighting my own nervousness, I take one last look at the band before leaving the stage. Reed is still messing with the cables, which look like an absolute mess of a spaghetti and a major fire hazard. That being said, I don't know shit about all that stuff, and he assured us it will be fine. Trish is off to the side, still trying to convince Principal Spears to let her sell crudely drawn posters of the band after the concert. I can't hear them from here, but judging from Principal's unflinching face and Trish's desperate gesticulation, it's not going too well for her. And then there is Fang. Up until today she was the one to be the most excited about this show, but now she looks oddly uneasy for her. She's nervously fiddling with her guitar, while her tail is moving erratically in all directions. What betrays her anxiousness the most, however, is the sight of her drooping wings. "Hey, Fang," I call out to her before I have a chance to reconsider. "Yeah?" she says, lifting her eyes from the held instrument. I do my best to summon the most reassuring smile possible while looking in these amber wonders, but it comes at a cost of my legs feeling like they've lost a bone or two. I hope I don't look too retarded even for my standards. "You got this." After a moment of silence that seems to drag on forever, Fang smiles back at me. Man, if a girl smiled at me so genuinely a couple of months ago, I'd probably faint. Now I only get sweaty palms and a mild panic attack. "Thanks, I appreciate it." "I mean it," I add, hoping to boost her morale a bit more. "You three absolutely kicked ass during the practice sessions. I'm sure no asshole will get a chance to even smirk at this show." The band has been practicing the entire winter break in Reed's garage, and I know first hand they've improved. Especially compared to this double bass bullshit, which was abandoned after my controversial suggestion to let Fang play what she's good at. The idea to play at the first day of the new semester was Trish's. It took her some time to convince Fang, which is how I learned about their previous shows. Apparently, they've been playing in the school a couple of times since junior year, and the results... weren't pretty. To be honest, they did sound awful with double bass, but I totally get why Trish is always fuming at these memories. There's critique, and there's being a dipshit. "We'll do our best, that's for sure," Fang replies. I give her a thumbs up and finally head off stage. It's a miracle I can still walk fairly normally. I even manage not to trip on the stairs like a retard. The concert is starting in half an hour, and almost everything is ready. I leave the auditorium to meet with Naser at the school's entrance and take care of the last missing thing. I haven't seen him for almost a month, but it's difficult not to recognize his eyesore of a jacket. As soon as he heard of the planned concert, Naser offered Fang his help with getting the audience. She was initially against the idea, but halfway through the winter break she relented, much to her brother's delight. Judging from what I've learned about Naser through the first semester, he would have tried anyway, regardless of his sister's approval. We exchange greetings as I approach him, and start some small talk about the things we did during the winter break. I don't have many interesting stories to share, but he seems happy to hear I've been bonding with the band, providing feedback during practice sessions and just hanging out in general. I'm still relatively new at Volcano High after all, and it wasn't easy for me to make friends here, especially given I didn't try at all. Eventually Naser points down the street, where a pizza delivery car has just appeared. When it pulls over, I can see a large stack of boxes on the front seat. And three more stacks in the back seats. "Raptor Jesus, how many did you order?" I ask. "A few," he replies, walking towards the car. While Naser is paying for the pizzas, I open the front door and try to pick up the unholy amount of boxes. Turns out it's not impossible, but carrying it all the way to the auditorium is going to be a challenge. I turn to check how Naser and the pizza delivery guy are doing, and I almost drop the tower in my hands when I see them taking more boxes out of the trunk. Well, at least this should be enough to lure the entire school to the show. I don't want to think how much he must have paid for all this, though. Two trips to the auditorium later, all of the boxes are laid out on the tables in the back, patiently waiting to get devoured by the crowd that's been gathering on the other side of the door. I bet if I dropped one of the boxes on the way, it wouldn't even get a chance to hit the ground before its content got devoured. Quick glance at my phone tells me the show starts in five minutes, and the band seems ready. With nothing more left to do, I grab a large pizza and head to the front row along with Naser. Halfway through the room I freeze when a large hand rests on my shoulder, holding me in place. "Can I talk to you for a second, Anon?" I hear the voice of a certain caveman from behind me. "Of course, Principal." I give the box to Naser, who exchanges nods with Spears and continues down the aisle. When he's far enough, the Principal continues. "I just wanted to say I'm glad to see you're starting this semester on a better note." The corner of his mouth raising a few nanometers tells me the pun was intended. "Whatever happens here today, the support you've provided for your friends was commendable." He releases me from his iron grip. "Now, off you go. Enjoy the show." I mutter a confused thanks, and turn around to face the scene again. Fang is correcting the microphone's position, while Reed and Trish are discussing something. The ptero notices my gaze, and looks up, giving me a little smile. It's a good thing the auditorium is dark, making it harder for her to see my face turn red when I smile back and wave my hand. Just when I sink down into the seat, I hear the door to the auditorium opening. The crowd pours inside while Spears holds the door open. Predictably, the tables with pizza are completely surrounded in mere seconds, with a queue leading to them already forming. Soon, those who got to the boxes first start looking for seats, some of them with shit-eating grins plastered on their snouts, beaks and whatnot. Not all of them, though. I greet Rosa and Stella when they approach us, and do my best to contain an exasperated groan when the stego weeb sits right next to me. Thankfully she seems too excited by the upcoming show to give me another weird tarot reading or recommend trash anime. For now, at least. Eventually most of the audience is in their seats, and the chatter dies down as much as it can in a room full of highschoolers. The band doesn't try to introduce themselves, as most of the students already know them from their previous shows. Instead, they jump straight to the first song. I can practically feel the confusion in the auditorium when the first riffs come out absolutely clean, stopping any mockery dead in its tracks. The band is just getting started, though. The song really comes alive when Fang's voice kicks in, perfectly matching the sounds of her guitar. Reed spent a couple of nights on drugs-enhanced lyrics writing to have some new songs just for this concert. His style is really... unique, but it sure catches an ear. I start singing along when the second chorus starts, and prod Naser with my elbow to join me. The crowd is still more surprised than anything, but I hope this can give them a little nudge to start enjoying the show. By the time the first song ends a few people have caught on, and I can see the band's apprehension is completely gone. I don't think I've ever seen Trish this happy at something else than me tripping and landing face first in my lunch. The second song begins, and the audience responds with a cheer that neither of us in the front row have initiated. Gradually more and more people join, until I can't even hear my own voice anymore. After the second song ends, Fang looks at me briefly with a smile that makes me glad I'm sitting, before turning back to the band to discuss which song to play next. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The show lasts a solid hour, and is a resounding success. There's even an encore, contrary to both the audience's and the band's initial expectations. Fang, with completely hoarse voice, eventually proclaims the end of the show, and the crowd starts trickling out of the auditorium. I'm surprised to see Spears still standing by the door, though the way he smiles proudly at the band is somewhat heartwarming. With probably a similar looking smile on my face, I climb the stage along with Naser. The band is drenched in sweat, but their faces are beaming with satisfaction. "I told you you've got this," I say when I'm close to the center of the stage. "That was amazing." "It was fucking fantastic!" Fang laughs in response. "Our best show ever! I can't believe how good it went." "It would be better if Spears let me sell our merch," Trish chimes in, pointing to the stack of posters behind the curtain. "Come on, Trish," Fang rolls her eyes. "Who cares about this shit? They all actually liked our show, that's what matters." "Yup, it's a start." Trish looks like she's going to start bickering about the band's economic potential, but Reed cuts her off. "Yo, Trish, mind giving me a hand here?" He gives us a wink before the trigger turns around, and then leads her to the clusterfuck of cables I've seen earlier. Since it didn't blow up after all, I guess he really knows what he's doing. The remaining three of us stand there in silence, which soon gets broken by Naser. "What a way to start the new semester, huh?" "Sure is," Fang replies, glancing awkwardly at him. "Look, Naser..." she pauses for a moment, alternating between looking at him and at me. "Thank you for your help. Both of you." Naser's eyes light up, and I realize this might be the breakthrough in their relationship he was looking forward to for years. Best I can do is make them some room to solve their family issues. "No, thank y o u for the show," I say, before heading off stage. "I gotta go now, though, if I want to catch the bus. See you guys tomorrow." The ptero siblings say goodbye to me and turn back to each other. Hopefully their talk will go as smooth as the concert. I grab my bag and the unfinished box of pizza and leave the auditorium. Only Naser and the band remain inside when I leave, even Spears is gone. I can't believe how much has changed since September. For the better, of course, and not only in my life. I didn't expect to make friends here, especially after Rock Bottom, yet here we are. For the first time in a while, I'm looking forward to the future.