The rest of the band turned to him and nodded, one by one.
“Nerves are normal; I’ve got them too, but we will absolutely crush it.We are going to win over this audience, even if they already love us.Why?Because we have to.This is our job.Each and every time we perform, we owe it to them to rock out as hard as we can.This show is for them.Let the world know how badass Astro Calamitas is.”
“Yeah!”Lon yelled.
Brand grinned.Alex kissed Ry quickly.Ella, however, stuck her hand out.He placed his hand on hers, and everyone followed suit.They cheered on three.
The crowd was wild when the band’s name echoed on the speakers.
“This is it,” Ry shouted over the noise.
He climbed the stairs, their worn wood groaning under him, and burst onto the stage.The venue was a cavern punctuated by the faint glow of scattered emergency lights, yet he sensed the dense press of bodies, a palpable hum of anticipation.A wide grin stretched across his face.This was his element, the very air he was born to breathe.
“Hello, Los Angeles!”he yelled.
Another wave of screaming came at them.
He chuckled.“That’s what I like to hear!We are Astro Calamitas, though you may remember a little band some of us used to play in called Ghostfire.Well, we’ve got a treat for you tonight.Some new music!”
The crowd erupted in a deafening roar, a cacophony of cheers and screams that vibrated through the floor.Ry, his face flushed with exhilaration, turned to Lon, a silent signal passing between them.As the opening chords of “Los Angeles” ripped through the air, Ry's voice, powerful and resonant, soared above the swelling tide of music.The band crashed in behind him, a unified, thundering force, a wall of sound that seemed to press in on all sides.
In the City of Angels, can I find what I seek
in the hazy glamour?
Encounter the devil with his salesmen,
their slick words gleaming like new cars
living in houses worn, paint peeling
will I discover love or an empty bed?
The rhythmic thrumming of Alex's bass vibrated through the floorboards, a deep pulse resonating in the air.Lon’s drums pounded a driving beat, a sharp crackle and boom that filled the room.Ella, drawn by the energy, moved closer to the stage's edge, her singing a sweet, clear melody weaving in harmony with Ry's.A thrill shot through the crowd as Ry launched into the next verse, his favorite part, his voice alternating lines with Ella's, their voices a captivating duet.
“Let me in, share your secrets,” he sang.
“Reveal your heart to me, Santa Monica,” she followed up.
“Give me your fame, your glory, your love.”
“Oh, our Lady makes dreams come true.”Ella closed her eyes.
Together they sang the chorus:
Your neon glow spills across the sky,
a hazy promise of heaven
in this palm-lined paradise,
apartment parties beat against the night
windows like scattered diamonds,
our beautiful mosaic
Ry danced around, as energetic as possible, reveling in the cheering masses.He had finally found home here, like he had when they’d first started out.Once the song concluded, he came back to the front of the stage.
