Page 118 of Under the Ink

You seeme in my cage

But you don’t know a goddamn thing.

All you know is what you see

When you pay your hard-earned entry fee.

All you see is what I let you see

But you’ll never know the real me.

Watchinghim on stage for the first time ever, she was able to fully understand the lyrics in the second verse and it gave her chills—because these words were surely about him and his real life.

You sitat your desk all prim and proper

Writing the shit you know will sell

But you left out all that was important

Then you wonder why I refuse to tell.

You draw your pictures and weave your words

And eat the money with a fork and knife

But I won’t be your animal and I’m leaving my cage

To fucking take your life.

The waythe rest of the crowd sang the song made the experience so visceral, it resonated in Naomi’s soul. It was as if, even though most of these people had never experienced being watched by millions of people and picked apart, they understood the core of his message—the emotional part. The rage, the anger, the frustration.

Emotions anyone alive had felt at least once.

As the guitar solo began, Naomi noticed something else—that the entire crowd was in motion en masse. Whether they were just moving their body or banging their head or driving their fists in the air, they were doing it to the same beat. Thanks to Shock Treatment—and Sage, the guy pounding on the drums—they were following a rhythm that spoke to the most primal part of their being.

For the first time ever, Naomi felt like she was part of a group…part of something bigger and more beautiful than she could have ever imagined.

By the end of the song—loud and intense—she was so moved, she almost cried, even though she knew that had never been Johnny’s intent.

When the show was finally over, she tried to move toward the stage but still found it impossible. Everyone else was trying to leave so it was like swimming upstream. All she could manage was going with the flow as best she could while making her way toward the wall. Once there, she pressed her back against it and let everyone file out.

People were talking as they shuffled out, and Naomi realized her ears were ringing. In fact, it sounded like she was under water. She knew the guys in the band protected their ears, but now she realized people in the audience should too.

Too late now.

After several long minutes passed, Naomi was able to make her way through some of the people who were still close to the stage—but, by that point, all the equipment had already been cleared.

Fortunately, there were a couple of people she recognized from last summer. One was the security guy who’d come to her room when Andy had tried getting chummy with her. “Lex!”

Either he didn’t hear her or he was ignoring her—but then she realized he was listening to someone behind the stage who was talking to him. That person, someone Naomi didn’t recognize, came into view, and she found herself growing impatient. Unfortunately, she didn’t see any easy way onto the stage. It was so high that she wouldn’t have been able to rest her chin on it or pull herself up.

Maybe standing on a chair, though.

Even though there were still people everywhere, there was lots more room to maneuver. Looking around the big room, Naomi spied tables and chairs all pushed to the back wall. To the side were built-in booths, but nothing she could pull across the floor.

As she walked toward the stacked furniture, she wondered if they’d done that to fit more people inside—because it still took up a lot of space. Most of the chairs were stacked too high for her to even try pulling them off but one stack was shorter than the rest and she managed to pull the top chair off.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too heavy.

---