CHAPTER ONE
Luka Fischernever felt like enough.
But when Reno looked through the crowd and right at him, he forgot himself, his mediocrity, and his need for more. It was only for a moment. A single glance, an eyebrow raise, a motion so elegant and surreal when Reno held his hands up and pointed. He motioned right in Luka’s direction, tapped one hand against the other, smiled, nodded, and stuck his plush lip between his teeth as the crowd pushed to the sides to open up the pit at his command.
Then Reno tore his eyes away again and Luka went back to being another face in a sea of fans. Reno’s fingers flew over his guitar as he slid low into the breakdown with his long, faded-pink hair covering his face, and someone pushed against Luka’s shoulders, bouncing away again into the circle pit. He pushed back, cheering, alive and brimming with electricity. He couldn’t help laughing as people were lifted over the masses, strong hands carrying them forward to land at the edge of the stage to bow at the band’s feet.
The cheers were unanimous when Zana asked if he could take a picture of everyone. He passed his mic to a roadie, got down on his knees to make room, and the rest of Voltagestruck well-practiced poses while a stage hand took the shot with Zana’s phone. The venue turned on the overhead speakers, playing some generic pop song as Voltage waved to cheers and applause, then disappeared backstage. Luka darted through the crowd, using his small frame to his advantage to squeeze between people, to try to catch one last peek before Reno left for good. He reached the metal barricade right on time to watch as Reno turned around with a small, final wave, and Luka pretended that Reno was looking at him again, just a moment longer.
JAY
Hey man, this you?
Oh
Yeah, haha. I didn't think you could see me from the stage.
You might wanna check Reno's account. I'm watching the likes crawl up by the second…
omg
why?
Luka’s phone buzzed with another text:
Maria
Um, hey. we haven't talked in a bit. But, you okay?
Yeah why? Whats up?
Have you been online today?
No….?
Oh, honey
When Luka was fifteen, he saw Voltage in concert at a venue four hours away from his hometown. His best friend, Maria Torres’ mom had taken them, let them dye their hair, wear ripped-up tank tops and short shorts, and black eyeliner. It was the most freedom he’d had as a teen, getting to leave town, getting away from his parents, wearing whatever he wanted for once, and seeing his favorite band.
The venue was tiny; outside of Europe, no one really cared to book Voltage for anything bigger yet. The band wasn’t known to anyone except a small fan base that mostly chatted over forums and swapped MP3s over email. Inside, there was only room for a few hundred; the floors were sticky, and it smelled like smoke, but it was perfect to Luka. A local band was opening for Voltage and the headliner, GoatHoarder, and he guessed only he and Maria were there to see Voltage.
They had made it right as the local band, Spinal Trap, was wrapping up, so Maria’s mom made sure they were in the venue safely, then left for the bar in the back. Luka and Maria pressed to the front, chatting excitedly as a small crowd moved in behind them, and the lights dimmed. A roadie came on and went through sound check, swapped out instruments, and when Voltage finally came out, the few people who were there for them cheered their hearts out, and continued to do so through the whole set.
As Luka sang along with the few fans who knew the lyrics, he finally felt like he’d broken out of the mold his parents had forced onto him. For the first time, he felt a real sense of belonging—not just with the crowd, or to the music, but to a part of himself he hadn't really known before.
Reno wasright there, on the guitar in front of him, his hair baby pink and wild when he caught Luka watching him. He’d winked, dropped to his knees and played a riff as wild as a thunderstorm, all without breaking eye contact with Luka. Then, he rose back to his feet and stalked away, playing the chorus, like he hadn’t just changed Luka’s world.
Luka didn’t remember much more about the show over the next ten years other than the closeness of it, the way he'd reached out and brushed hands with Zana and King, how the drums felt like they were in his throat, and the whip of the crisp autumn air outside the venue afterwards.
As they stood out front, someone called out to them: “Hey, what are y’all doing?” He had a cigarette between his lips, the smoke wafting from him in lazy curls. “Headliner’s bout to come on stage.”
“We don’t know who they are," Maria said, pushing her brown curls away from her face and zipping her fur-lined hoodie closed. She and Luka were some of the only people outside, and through the venue walls, Luka could hear the headlining band’s roadies going through sound check. “We came for Voltage.”
“No shit?” the man said, looking mildly surprised. “Always neat to meet people coming out for the smaller bands. Those kids have some real talent. We got a grill hot out back, you hungry?”
Luka looked at Maria, then at the venue doors behind which Maria’s mom probably still sat at the bar. “Sure. Why not? Can I bum one of those?”
“Sure, hon.” He slapped the bottom of the pack to knock a cigarette loose and handed it to Luka, who tucked it behind his ear for later. “Come on.” He waved a hand for them to follow as he walked around the building, passing a few people leaning against the venue’s brick walls, drinking from a metal flask. Inside, the band had kicked off and the noise poured out into the alleyway. The light over the stage door flooded the back alley and the parking lot beyond, painting everything warm and orange to match the changing trees.
