“Jackson!” The trill voice of an Omwati called down the hall backstage of the newest Venue. The call was answered shortly by the appearance of the bright eyed Hapan.
“Yeah?”
The colorful Manager gestures over their shoulder to a box of paper. “Got a problem. Apparently the Venue is retrofitting it’s physical booths, only selling tickets online. So the tickets we saved for them are locked out of purchasing.”
Nash peered around the Omwati’s feathery mane at the box. “They all registered? Just need to be handed out?”
“Registered, yes. Just need to be sold to paying custom- Nash!” They couldn’t even finish their sentence before the performer slipped past them, tucked the box under and arm and backed out a side exit door, flashing a reassuring grin back to his manager.
The streets were soon flooded with slips of paper being handed out left and right. Backstage slips passed only to those deemed interesting, even if they weren’t likely to come. The option to broaden a horizon was what Nash was after. And with that thinking, he found himself pushing into the nearby Library.
It was… far more empty than he was anticipating. Apparently physical mediums were less popular. As he thought about it, it wasn’t that big of a surprise. Physical mediums were a dying form of entertainment, even concerts were less popular it seemed.
It didn’t discourage him though, he instead made a pass through the Library, searching for a target.
Finally, he found one.
He slipped behind a woman with horns and colorful skull, peering over her at the books she was inspecting before he opened with a smooth
“Hey! Oh kist-“ he suddenly lowered his voice, eyes darting around the shelves to ensure he didn’t disturb anyone. “Hey. You like music?”
Kerissa looked up as the increasingly loud footsteps stopped behind her. Starting to turn, he practically yelled and she flinched. The downside of sensitive hearing but kark, he probably wouldn’t know. A Hapan. Was this going to be some weirdo asking her on a date-
Music. Her brows drew together, slightly confused.
“Uh, sure? Why?”
He flourished a hand, and handed over a pamphlet lined and splotched with colorful glow in the dark designs that glowed under the man’s shadow. “There’s this concert happening a few blocks away. Heavy Isotope, Dusk Pop and some things in between. Sound interesting at all?” He gives her a handsome smile offering the pamphlet to her. Across the front of it was a stylized word. Pulse
Kerissa took it, opening and peering in at the set list. No one she knew but, really who did she know music wise?
“Looks like a fun time. It’s happening tonight though, isn’t it a little late to be advertising?” She shifted, considering it but doubtful there’d be any tickets left on this short of notice. It was a bit random, safe to say.
“Sorta.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a ticket marked for backstage access. “Just seeing if there are people here interested in it. So, if you are.. “ He wiggled the slip. “No charge or anything”
Kerissa laughed lightly, shifting her books to sit under one arm more comfortable and tucking the pamphlet into the pile.
“That’s a backstage pass, that you’re giving away just for free?” She raised a pink eyebrow, disbelieving being a major understatement. “I could be some crazy person y'know?”
The Hapan blew air through his lips, brushing off the idea. He then leaned back and gestured to himself, dressed as he was with tattoos showing. “Don’t think I could be?” He laughed then and once more extended the ticket towards her.
“You can say no, no harm done. But hey, maybe we’ll see each other there, eh?”
Kerissa tilted her head, a silent fair enough that drew a smile to her lips. She was just accepting a concert ticket from some random dude. He had a point.
“Maybe we will.” Kerissa plucked the ticket gently from his grasp, looking down at it. “Thank you. I hope they pay good for doing this.”
“Hah, Yeah, pay’s ok I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face for all of a second. “Look forward to seeing you.”
With a wink, he started a backing out with a small spin once reaching the end of the aisle.
“Oh!” He then cringed and dropped his voice again. “It’s a black light show. So, lots of body paint, lots of Glow. Don’t feel pressured, but it’s an incredible vibe, almost like a Masquerade when everyone’s Done up.”
“Oh. Noted.” Kerissa responded, a little surprised at such a.. odd theme but with the music genres it made sense, she supposed.
She chuckled to herself. Why not?
It had been something of a pain to find body safe glow in the dark paint but Kerissa had successfully found a pot of each colour, focussing mainly on the colours that matched her outfit. Black was easy to match with thankfully, the asymetrical dress long enough to hide her tail comfortably while still showing off the coming paintwork. She’d coloured her freckles and splotches with a pink, using a darker blue and purple to contrast. She copied the pattern down her arms and legs, ensuring her tail was carefully strapped to her thigh and everything was on before putting pink paint on her hands and running it through her hair. It wasn’t perfect but it was a look. Messy in the right way where the fade seemed purposeful yet not a solid cut off. It left paint remnant on her palms that stained, leaving them glowing dully in the dark but after a moment of consideration, she left it as it was.
It was already dark when she approached the concert hall’s doors, certainly not the first to arrive but managing to get there before the majority of the crowd did.
Now all she had to do was work out where to go with the backstage passes and who to karking talk to.
It took a few minutes of chatting but, it turned out the backstage passes were after the show. They did permit early entrance to get a good spot though, so the Kessurian-Ryn took full advantage of that bonus as the queue was finally allowed in with the backstage group heading the charge. The only side quest was to get a decent sized drink of whatever alcohol they ended up giving up her, before sidling her way as far forward as possible.
The murmur of the crowd was.. a lot. But Kerissa had her montral-muffs firmly on. It was a sheer material, the glow paint visible underneath, but if gave enough muffling that all of this wouldn’t knock her out.
The lights faded, dropping the crowd into darkness.
Sound tore through the venue, vibrating through the crowd, shaking ribs and souls as the sound began to pulse.
Lights flared to life, piercing the darkness with thin lines of lights, lasers catching the clouds of smoke pouring from the stage. The reverberating noise refined itself into chords, backed by the heavy beat of drums. More light illuminated the edges of the stage in a dark purple glow, suddenly showing vibrant colors splattered across the stage, walls, and ceiling. They lit figures on stage, the source of the buzz that was spreading through the crowd as the music built. One central figure appeared more like a glowing skeleton than a man, his voice rupturing the tension built into a rolling snowball of pressure that erupted through the crowd who in turn, responded with the very same energy.
The lyrics were Angst. Anger. Pure Energy. All spat with blatant rage into the world, ire directed solely at the “enslavement” of working for a mega powerful, mega corrupt corps. The trial and tribulation of the hopeless, stuck as a gear in the machine, expected to be mindless and obedient. Expected to live and die for corrupt profit.
Lasers swiveled, spun, flashed and pulsed. The Skeleton on stage was a blur of movement when not actively singing through the mic, dancing, hopping, jumping and rocking through the song with the glowing guitar his bony fingers played.
It was a few songs in, when the music calmed for a more centered groove that Kerissa was able to spot the man behind the glow. The hair and eyes that seemed to be floating pins of firelight in an empty skull gave him away.
The energy was instant, giving no room to breathe until everyone was taken in.
Kerissa did little to fight it, not knowing the lyrics to scream along wtih them like so many others but bouncing on her feet, catching the pieces of chorus that came along again for her to recognise and call back. It was enchanting, all the UV glow.
She focussed on the group, the singer.
The singer.
It was in the moments before a new song came on, the lights shifting right, that Kerissa realised that the singer was the random ass guy who handed her the tickets.
Laughter broke free of the woman, running still pink-glowing hands through her hair.
No way. What the kark?
It almost knocked her out of the groove but the lyrics of newest song hit her and it.. struck. The ebb and flow, the fight for freedom and giving in to powers beyond control.
It lit something of a fire in her belly, though that may have been the booze she’d gotten more of, the Force roaring within and only just being redirected back internally. This was not the time or place.
The dark side whispered, in chorus with the cries of sirens against the main vocals. It was a bit too overwhelming, almost, but she used the music to focus and sunk into enjoying the rest of the show.
And preparing the ask why the kark a singer was running around handing otu his own damn tickets!
Even in the darkness, the glimmer of light sweat could be seen across his chest when lasers caught him. Evident of the sheer effort he was putting into hoping around stage, playing and singing all at once. His hair whipped around as he thrashed, lighting the air with pure energy.
That energy pulsed through the venue, shifting with each song he cried into the mic. Soon the rage changed from existential, to a relatable anger at the past and all the sins it committed against him. What she did, torn between revenge, retribution, or being dead to her.
As it goes, he chose death.
The vibe shifts again then, upbeat, teasing, cheeky above all. All while constantly moving across the stage. Another building surge in the songs, rising to resistance, not just rage. A satisfied defiance that extended to cover all qualms. An acceptance of the futility, but a promise of action despite it being a lost cause.
Time flew throughout the whole show, the crescendo and satisfaction that followed coming much later than it felt. It was not long before the final note, the final struggle, the final light flared out and sizzled.
Kerissa’s voice was rawer than she expected to say she’d had no idea what any of the words were. A cheer had enveloped the room as darkness fell in, quietening by the time they brought up enough lighting for the majority of the crowd to begin filtering out, and for those who hadn’t yet bought any merchandise to do so without fumbling too much.
A member of security called out for all backstage passes to come up to the side of the stage, drawing a few from the crowd who’d almost forgotten though most had hung closer and, with Kerissa among them, flocked toward the stage.
The Kessurian-Ryn slipped the montral muffs off, the murmur of the crowd dissipating enough that hopefully it wouldn’t be a mistake. So long as no one screamed, at least. She had no idea how popular this guy was, she’d had people look at her in complete shock at some of the names that hadn’t made it into her repitoire over the years.
The process of draining the room of attendees was lengthy, and would take several minutes to finish. When the crowd was low enough, security started filtering people through a roped off section to gather in a new group. Kerissa was taken in, her ticket checked, and then waved through to the next group. There weren’t many, just a little over a dozen who were now being ushered up a set of dark stairs to the backstage area.
They passed through a curtain, then into a solid hallway that lead backstage past rows of doors. Eventually they hit a large lobby area where drinks, snacks, and other assortments of goodie bags and merch was laid out on a table. A voice cut through the chatter as people started poking at the table as a flamboyantly dressed Omwati covered in colorful feathers that had a learned color sheen in the light spoke. “Yes, Everyone. Take what you want from the table, one piece of merch per ticket please.”
They moved closer, waving a hand at the table before offering a flourish and a slight bow at the hips. “My Name is Argus, I manage Pulse and organize all of these events. If you give them just a few minutes, everyone should be out here quite soon. So please, make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be here if you have any questions until then.”
Kerissa grabbed a t-shirt from the table, barely remembering to make sure it would be large enough to fit over her montrals before stepping away to give space and putting the shirt over her shoulder.
“Thank you.” She responded to Argus but didn’t really have any questions so kept to herself. The drinks drew her attention though, crossing to check and see what was what.
A few minutes passed, and as the crowd there dispersed from asking Argus questions about a “Pulse” they shifted to the local talent, a small band that had been picked up for this show. A few question were thrown their way, about how they had formed, how they met Pulse, and what their experience on stage was like.
Not too long after, the teal haired star himself exited his room to meet the gathering. Argus made a line of everyone who had questions, stemming the immediate wave into a slow trickle that could be handled. Nash answered everything confidently, with a smile and a wink.
Kerissa was content to get into line, not exactly as excitable as the rest of the fans who clearly had already been aware of who Pulse was before today.
It had been a fun day though.
Once she got her chance to talk to him, a slight grin crossed her face.
“So you were handing out your own flyers and tickets?”
“Yeah, ran out of butlers and had to get my own shoes dirty. Could you believe it?” He laughed, then lifted the shirt from her shoulder. He signed an empty black portion of it devoid of design with a pen that didn’t seem to leave behind any marking. Glow in the dark surely? He then folded it nicely while continuing to talk before he handed over to her again. “Can check that out later, have some special lights in my room if you want to check it out. They look much better glowing, most things do.”
He leaned to the side, peering past her towards the group that had dwindled slightly, most people having already spoken to him. “Enjoy the show? I’ll be honest I wasn’t expecting you to rock the look this hard. You get messed up pretty nice for a bookworm~”
“And you sing pretty good for someone with dirty shoes.” Kerissa jibed back, following his glance toward the group and honestly quite thankful it was dwindling. She had her mufflers on but it had been loud for a while.
She looked over where he’d signed it, seeing the slight change in the black fabric where it was clearly inked but not with anything visible in this lighting.
“It was fun. Haven’t been swept up in a crowd like that for a while. Totally worth ditching my bookworm tendencies for a night.”
“Yeah, glad you liked it!” He nodded clasped his hands together, his fingers interlocking. “Planning on going back to those tendencies? Or could I keep you playing hookie for the night?”
As they conversed the room slowly grew quieter, Argus was hard at work pushing people out of the room in an orderly fashion.
Kerissa glanced towards Argus, wondering if any plans would be interrupted by the venue needing her to go, but considered the offer.
It wasn’t like she’d be in much danger if it came down to him being malicious secretly.
“I could be tempted, what were you thinking?”
Nash wiggled his shoulders and purses his lips, feigning a deep thought. “Just thought I might invite you around more of the backstage. Show you how the show goes, maybe introduce you to more music like mine. Or - more music of mine if you truly did like it.”
He swayed with no small amount of self serving sarcastic righteousness while adjusting his still faintly glowing hair. Meanwhile Argus simply rolled his eyes at the duo while working with the rest of the visitors.
“I wouldn’t lie about that.” Kerissa answered, a slight grin crossing her face. “I’ll take a tour with the lead, isn’t this something people write about?”
“Oh yeah, if you fancy yourself a journalist. Though, can’t say I’ve seen a journalist covered in that much paint before.” He shook his head then, hair flailing about before flicking his head back and up, causing the mess of it to somehow fall into a more flattering mess. “Well - i guess there was that one time but she didn’t do that on purpose. Think ruined her whole car actually”
He seemed lost on thought for a moment as he watched the last of the extras get ushered out. Argus gave them their fairwells, wishing them good nights with promises of future shows. Then, when the doors shut, he spun back towards Nash with his hands on his hips. “You have to give me an update, alright? I don’t want someone wandering around alone and I need a heads up if I’m buying them a hotel room. They’re pressed for booking, you’re lucky they had room for your cheeky glowy… cheeks.”
“Less journalism and more the avid dreaming of young women I’ve heard happens.” Kerissa laughed, it trailing off as Argus turned to them and feeling quite awkward as the parental-esque rant occured. A beat passed after he finished.
“I have a hotel.” She realised she’d raised her hand on speaking and lowered it, glad the face paint would hide the flush to her cheeks. She continued, after another moment, “The most I’ll need it a lift there.”
Argus lifted his palm upwards towards her. “You can handle that yourself, right Pulse?” He didn’t seem to wait for an answer, spinning on his heel with a flurry of colorful hair and feathers.
Nash for his part, watched Argus disappear through another Staff only door. He paused for a few moments before looking back towards Kerissa. “So.. yeah. I’ll show you around.” He broke the awkwardness with a smile and nodded back down the hallway, offering his hand to the unique woman.
Kerissa snorted as Argus left seemingly as quickly as possible. That was odd, in a funny way at least once it had passed.
She looked to the offered hand, hesistating before taking it and letting him lead her along. “Backstage tour, how many wires are there I wonder?” A tinge of laughter coloured her voice.