Noah was gently bobbing his head, letting the melody take over. Slightly gritty, long, laid-back notes vibrated in his vocal cords when he started singing, only to transform into deep growls that rippled into some mind-blowing belting at the end, sending chills down Kaj’s spine.
With each passing second and every song they played, tension coiled tighter around his guts. Kaj didn’t know what had him so on edge today, but he hated how his body was reacting to everything Noah did. Why couldn’t he shake him out of his system?
You’re fixating because he’s objectively hot, and it’s been too long since you felt the skin of another human being against yours.
Yes, that’s it. It’s been six months and eleven days—who’s counting—since the last time I had sex. I’m just fucking needy.
Once they were done with soundcheck, the musicians headed backstage. They took showers and changed into some more decent outfits to receive those who had bought VIP tickets.
The band had signed a ludicrous amount of goodies before the hall doors opened for the meet-and-greet. It was something they always did; prepare a cool bag with different items. In this case, it’d have been two posters, a laminate VIP pass, a black sports wristband with their logo on it, and a flag. Kaj’s hand was starting to hurt after signing a bunch of CDs and other stuff people had also brought, but he didn’t mind.
They only shared regular human conversation, took photos with their fans, and hung out for a bit, but it was always fun listening to them ramble about the last Artificial Suicide album, wild anecdotes where their music had been the soundtrack, watching videos of them covering their songs, or simply seeing them gush about meeting them. Though, as crude as it sounded, the one thing that always touched Kaj deeply was when someone said their music had saved them. Because while that wasn’t completely true—people who want to fight, save themselves—it swelled his heart every damn time.
Maybe it didn’t have the same impact on others, but he’d been there, lost in the depths of despair, wanting to erase himself from this planet more times than he was willing to admit out loud. So, a total stranger thanking them for being that light at the end of the tunnel, having that person here smiling and fucking alive, was everything.
“Hi! Nice to meet you. Is there a specific page you’d like us to sign?” Aksel asked as he took the notebook the next girl was handing him.
“Not really, the first blank one would do.” She grinned from ear to ear.
“Okay… There you go.”
“Thank you so much.”
“No, thankyoufor coming.”
As she moved forward, the other three musicians signed the notebook, too, sharing some light chatter.
Fifteen minutes later, as the line came to an end, Kaj noticed a young man clutching a large folder to his chest. He seemed a little restless, excited, and nervous, all at the same time. When he finally reached the table, he carefully opened the portfolio and pulled out two A3-sized sheets.
“I d-drew this for you, guys,” he said, his voice shaky and strained. “And this one, if you don’t mind, I’d love to have it signed?”
“Wow!” Aksel breathed out. “Guys, look at these!”
Xander, Kaj, and Noah approached the guitarist and leaned in to examine the artwork.
The one the guy was keeping for himself was an illustration of the fallen angel from their last album cover. It was levitating right above the ground with a scythe in its hand and an apocalyptic red landscape behind, all rendered in dark comic style. The attention to detail was incredible, from the texture on the wings to the shadows on the tunic and the sinister spark in its eyes. The other, with the same style, was some sort of flower. It was painted in a vibrant red color that contrasted beautifully with what looked like a devastated dystopian black-and-white world.
“Holy shit!” Xander said, eyes widening as a huge grin appeared on his face. “This is amazing!”
“T-thank you.” The guy shyly smiled. “I’ve worked on them for weeks.”
“You’ve got some serious skills,” Noah praised. “You sure you want us to have this?”
“Yes.”
“What is it, though?” Aksel asked.
“It’s a spider lily or ‘death flower’, my own interpretation of your last album. Some cultures claim that it grows in hell and its bright red petals serve to guide the lost souls toward reincarnation.”
“That’s… impressive.” Kaj was speechless. This weird flower and its meaning—the possibility of a second chance even after being through hell—spoke to him louder than a thousand tongues.
“Have you considered doing this professionally?” Xander asked, removing the lid from his silver marker.
“I’ve gotten a lot of shit for studying to get a fine arts degree. Like, that won’t get me anywhere, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” He blushed.
“People with no passion or dreams always say that kind of shit.” Kaj offered a knowing smile as he added his signature to the fallen angel drawing. “Don’t let them discourage you.”
“Exactly.” Aksel nodded, taking the illustration from Kaj. “Not gonna lie, it won’t be easy, but it’ll be so worth it. It all depends on how big your dreams truly are.”
