The bright red ember of my cigarette is the only color bold enough to show, while the rest of the world is hushed in black and white by downtown’s yellow streetlights.  Each time the smoke leaves my mouth, in that beautiful plume that it does, I expect my foot to stop tapping and for my mind to stop racing, though I am just as impatient as the drag before.  By the time the doors of the concert hall open I have finished a whole pack of cigarettes, and with the line moving like a snake that has eaten something far larger than itself, I am glad to have brought another.

            When I finally slither my way inside, I can feel the energy of the room as it rolls over my body like a wave.  Adrenaline, fear, confusion, and serenity all mix their way into the crowd.  As I glide to the center of the multitude, hands leaving my sides occasionally to gently move people from in front of me, I can see that there are a few boys on stage moving equipment around.  Each time there is an empty stage and one of the crew appears, everyone gasps in hopes of the band; each gasp is followed shortly by a collective sigh of disappointment.

            I slouch and rock from side to side to the music in the background; who knows what the horde would do if the music stopped playing before the band came on.  My cracked fingers begin itching to hold a cigarette, my whole body experiences tiny tremors only noticeable to myself, and my foot begins that inescapable tapping once again.  I can’t slouch any longer; I have to lift my head because my eyes are twitching with eagerness to see everything.  They bounce from one side of my eyelid to the other, a racquetball thrown too hard.

            A face, my eyes find a face that fits no pattern, the face of a child that matches nothing a part of the room.  He is untainted, sitting atop a man’s shoulders.  The bright blue innocence that shines out of his eyes is the counterpart to the soft purity that tousles its way through his curly, blonde locks of hair.  A few freckles perch themselves above a tiny nose, not entirely shaped yet, and a simple smile sits without worry on his lips.  He tilts his head to the side, as if to wonder why I am staring.  In response, my mouth begins to slowly twist into what I can only instinctively guess is a smile.  However, the music is cut off, followed by the failed grin and my head jerks forward to the stage.