“Will you wait, Chris?!” Quinn scolded her brother as she hurriedly paid the bus driver the fare at the sidewalk, the night settling in with glistening stars, hazy clouds, and perfectly ghastly yellow full moon ideal for Halloween. They say it brings out the weirdoes. Chris was too excited to be going to his first concert, it was either that or he has too much sugar flowing in his blood from the super big blue raspberry slurpee he got for the road at 7-11.
Chris bounced up and down like a jack rabbit on speed, wearing a blue and red court jester’s hat to blandly celebrate Halloween, his shaggy brown hair curling underneath the hat, his teeth and lips tattooed with blue. “Hurry, Quinn,” Chris whined, waiting patiently at the gray door to the Warner Theatre, tapping his foot dramatically.
“I’ve never seen you act like such a kid,” Quinn joked, fumbling forward, not use to such…strange footwear. Quinn straightened her skirt and gently tapped on the door, a short, pudgy, elder man swinging the door open violently, almost knocking Chris and Quinn to the damp ground, wearing a mean grimace underneath his thinning black hair. “We have passes…” Quinn asked more than told him after a few seconds, showing the security guard their orange and black BSPs.
“Come on in,” the man gruffed underneath his breath, opening the door wider, and revealing tanned walls and brown tables and chairs set up all around. It was a narrow, almost door-less backstage area. Quinn held on to Chris’s hand as she saw stern roadies and techies push past them like they were only air. Quinn saw Joel peep his head out of a brown door, Chris releasing Quinn’s hand and strolling over to Joel, Joel’s face lighting up as he proceeded out of the changing room, decked out in a black dress shirt opened with a MADE shirt underneath it and navy blue cut off Dickies.
“Chris, man,” Joel greeted him with a firm handshake, hitting a bell on Chris’s hat with his finger, “How you been? Love the hat.”
“Thanks,” Chris smiled, adjusting it on his head, “I’ve been good. This is so cool of you. This is my first concert.”
“We better make it special for you, then,” Joel chuckled, leaning down and mussing his hand over the hat, Chris’s hair probably like a bird’s nest now, Joel drawing his attention to a techie who was helping him with his mic.
Benji proceeded from the changing room laughing, wearing devil horns atop his black spikes, and a black and red Atticus shirt, Benji hi-five-ing Chris. “How’s the skateboarding coming, kid?” Benji asked jokingly, looking down at him as he and Chris walked absentmindedly toward Quinn.
“Great,” Chris gleamed, tucking his hands into his green cargo pockets, “Josh showed me a lot of cool moves.”
“Watch it, Benj!” Quinn yelled at him, Benji nearly toppling over her, Benji dramatically catching her in his tattooed arms before she fell flat on her face, Quinn’s eyes wide with fright. Benji stored at her in surprise, Joel looking over at the commotion and taking on the same expression.
“Pauly boy’s gotta see this!” Benji giggled, bringing her gently to her feet, Joel taking her other arm as Chris followed them into the changing room. It was covered in disheveled clothes, hat,s and shoes, the TV muted but on MTV, steam seeping out of the adjacent bathroom, someone enjoying a pre-rock-out shower, Billy around the venue somewhere with his girlfriend doing…something.
“Paul!” Joel shouted, pounding on the door, the shower stopping as Paul yelled back, “What?!”
“There’s something wrong with your bass,” Benji roleplayed, winking at Joel, Quinn, and Chris, Chris plopping down on a ratty leather couch next to the TV with anxious eyes.
“A few strings are broken,” Joel shouted into the door.
“What?!” Paul screamed, busting out of the bathroom with a white towel wrapped tightly around his waist, a river of water trailing him, his bleached hair falling over his forehead like he was just woken up, “Basses only have a...few…strings…” His speech slowed down and stopped as he laid eyes on Quinn, Joel, Chris, and Benji almost rolling on the floor because Paul didn’t even care he was almost naked in front of a girl he liked. Quinn smiled shyly behind dark red lipstick, gray eyelids, and teased-up hair held back with a sparkily black headband. She wrapped her wristbanded and leather-cuffed arms around her black wifebeater adorned with pins around the shoulder and closing the slit in the middle of her chest, her short, pleated ,red and black plaid skirt with a few decorative chains around the waist fluttered around her black sparkily fishnets, her 4 inch platform boots making her up to Paul’s chin. “You look…” Paul stopped, walking forward and giving her a hug, “so hot.”
“I’d do her,” Benji smiled, trying to choke back the laughter, the three of them hoping Paul’s towel would fall to the floor with a sudden gust of wind.
Quinn shot Benji a playfully stern look. “I do what I can,” Quinn smiled, patting Paul’s bare shoulder, trying not to notice he was practically naked.
“Did you just get here?” Paul asked casually, scratching his chin, totally zoned out to Joel and Benji’s continual jokes and snickers with Chris.
“Like 5 minutes ago,” Quinn informed him, not being able to fight back the snickers any longer, resting her forehead in her hand so he couldn’t see her laugh.
“Let me show you around,” Paul offered, ready to step out into the crowded backstage area.
“Paul!” Quinn laughed, holding him back by the waist, the realization that he was about to publicly embarrass himself, if he hadn’t already, sinking into his brain like Quicksand.
“Nice buns, Paul,” Joel joked, Paul checking frantically behind him to see of Joel was being truthful.
He grabbed a snickering Quinn by the arms and said sternly, “None of this ever happened,” before he fled into the bathroom like some little girl to finish getting ready, Quinn topping down on Joel’s laugh, her inside hurting with her amusement…
~*~
Finch’s song “What It Is To Burn” wafted around the stuffy inside of Benji’s black 1975 Ford Thunderbird, Quinn leaning on the passanger’s armrest, her worn-out eyes dazzled by the twinkling lights above and ahead, Chris knocked out from over-excitement in the back, his body spewed all along the backseat, Benji unconsciously nibbling his bottom lip as they cruised back to La Plata, a few after-midnight drivers whizzing them by.
“Thanks for giving us a ride, Benji,” Quinn told him again, looking back down to Earth and squeezing his arm tenderly, rolling down her window for a little fresh air. “Even though I told you we’d be fine on the bus.”
“And I told yoooou, QT,” Benji snickered, adjusting his rearview mirror and catching glimpse of a snoring Chris. “No family of mine is getting on some gross bus this time of night in the city. Besides, I needed to pass by your house anyway on the way to a club to meet up with my friend.”
“A girl-like friend?” Quinn asked mischievously, wiggling her eyebrows at Benji teasingly.
“Didn’t I tell you that I prefer men?” Benji questioned joking, narrowing his eyes, both of them breaking into hysterics. Benji looked in his rear-view mirror again, Chris’s blue mouth opened as wide as a lion as he snored the night away, his chest contracting with every deep drawl of breath. “He’s totally gone,” Benji smiled, glancing briefly over at a tired Quinn.
“It was an amazingly awesome show,” Quinn informed Benji, tugging at her fishnets, her eye make-up smudged.
“Amazingly awesome?” Benji questioned her vernacular, knowing Quinn and Chris both had a great time, Quinn and Paul having a nice time talking and teaching Quinn some cords on Paul’s bass before the show and Chris nearly having a conniption of being so close to the action backstage, Chris’s singing and rocking out not stop until Good Charlotte stepped offstage.
“Like, gnarly, dude,” Quinn responded in a sun-soaken Californian voice, their laughter the only thing that mattered in the world to Phoenix now…
~*~
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay until your mom gets home?” Benji offered, standing on the grass by his car as Quinn escorted a sleepy Chris out of the car and to the house, Chris’s arms loosely clinging onto a poster and a t-shirt he was given at the concert, the motion light flicking on near the front door. It was unusually silent that night, the air soaken with something ominous, and it wasn’t rain.
“It’s alright, Benji,” Quinn insisted, watching Chris plop down onto the black steps, fatigue drawing his eyes close as she walked back to Benji. “You’ve done enough already.”
“Alriiiiight,” Benji whined, stuffing his hand into his black Dickies’ pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Listen, Benj,” Quinn touched his shoulder, Benji looking down into her eyes, wishing he didn’t miss so much of her growing up, “I never got to tell you how proud I am of you. The new album is amazing…amazingly awesome, even. You and Joel have such power in your words that I’m sure everyone can connect with you…and for Uncle Dan (I just made up a name for Joel and Benji’s dad)…” Benji’s eyes became glassy, always appreciative of his family’s support of him, Benji clamping both hands down on her shoulders as she continued…”He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on. He definitely made the biggest mistake of his life leaving you guys.”
“Oh,” Benji said softly, holding Quinn close to him, Quinn wrapping her arms around his back, “You’re amazingly awesome, Quinn. I’m so happy that…”
“Matt?” Quinn asked aloud, cutting Benji off and releasing him, Benji turning toward where she was staring as a fist made dense contact, Benji stumbling back as blood began to trickle from the wound on his lip.
“Matt!!” Quinn shrieked, Matt taking Benji by the throat, Benji’s eyes bulging from his skull as he made a gargling sound, Matt pitching him rabidly to the ground, Benji crumpling beneath Matt’s wrath. “Matt, stop!” Matt continued to plummet his fists on Benji’s face, one after another, Benji fighting futilely to defend himself, Quinn approaching her unstable boyfriend, then backing off in fear.
“Chris!” Quinn cried, Chris already on his feet, his fearful eyes nearly tumbling out of his head with shock, Chris stoic. “Chris!” Quinn screamed, Chris snapping out of his transe and focusing on his sister. “Go call 911.” She chucked her keys at him and they fell with a clatter on the front steps, Chris fumbling with the lock before bolting inside.
Quinn couldn’t stand back and just watch any longer, watch Matt beat her around, and now her family. He was going too far. Quinn chose to deal with his beatings, it was her decision, not Benji’s. With all her strength, she jumped on Matt’s back and raked at his eyes with her nails, Matt roaring in pain like an injured beast. Matt released a battered and bloody Benji from his hands and reached blindly behind him, the dark hindering his search. Matt got a fist full of hair and flipped Quinn over his shoulder, Quinn thudding against the ground, howling in pain as she inspected the small bloody bald spot Matt created on her head with a shaky hand, Matt hovering over her with wild, wolf-like eyes, eyes reeking of control, of malice, Quinn dragging herself over the cool grass to Benji.
Matt’s ears perked up, the sound of sirens faint in the distance. Matt lifted his leg back for one more kick into Benji’s side, just for good measure, making Quinn pay for going behind his back, Quinn screeching in protest, throwing herself over Benji’s stomach, Benji moaning in agony. Quinn closed her eyes tightly, clinging on Benji’s shirt like he was a dear doll, hoping this was just some nightmare and she’d wake up any second, but when she opened her eyes, Matt was gone, and the sirens grew louder.
Quinn gazed in horror down at her cousin, Benji trying to sit up, his cheeks puffing up with bruises like he was a chipmunk, his lips and piercings oozing with blood. Benji looked like he just went for 3 rounds with a champion and badly lost, his arms slashed with violent scratches, his right eye painted with purple. “Stay down, Benji, Please,” Quinn begged, taking his cold hand in hers, Chris sprinting to her side and dropping to his knees, holding some gauze and pressing them against Benji’s lips, Benji shuddering in pain. Quinn store down at Benji in horror, patting his hand with motherly tender, silently declaring to herself that this will be the last time Matt will ever hurt anyone off the football field…