Page 11 of Behind the Lights

“Good idea,” he guided me toward the line for the restroom.

After soaking our shirts, faces and hair in the cool tap water, we headed back out to the grass area and waited while Disturbed got set up. They were one of the main bands we came to see, but Korn and Marilyn Manson were our top two must see bands for the day.

Disturbed had a tamer mosh following than Cradle did for sure, given Cradle was more death metal, so this time our dumb asses tempted fate and jumped into the center of it. Security kept reaching in and pulling us out, yelling that we were too young to be in that shit. But we didn’t care and kept sneaking around them to get back in. Every time we came back out, we’d catch sight of the same two girls giggling and watching us.

“What’s up with them?” I nudged Ricky, pointing in the girls’ direction.

“Who knows?” He grabbed my shirt and pulled me the other way.

We dove back in when Disturbed broke intoStupefy, staying in until the pit disbanded when they left the stage.

“Crap, what time is it?” I asked Ricky.

“How should I know? I don’t have a watch. Hey man,” Ricky said to a guy passing by, “Do you know what time it is?”

He pulled his phone out. “Four fifteen.”

“Thanks,” Ricky said turning back to me. “We’re late to meet Brett and John. Let’s go.”

We took off for the food court area, finding them waiting by the same table we’d left them at.

“Get lost to the insanity?” Brett kidded.

“Uh, something like that,” I panted, bending over and placing my hands on my knees to try and catch my breath.

“You two are soaked. Do we even want to know?” Uncle John eyed us.

“Ha, probably not,” Ricky told him.

“Come on, you two, let’s get something to eat and get a couple bottles of water in you.” Brett led us over to join one of the many long ass food lines. “Tell us what you guys want so we can order it while you snag that table for us.” He pointed to an empty table down the way.

“Burger and fries,” we both said before taking off.

About fifteen minutes later, they showed up with the food. We’d become human vacuums, sucking it down without breathing in between bites. “Worked up an appetite, huh? If I had to guess, I’d put money on the fact that you guys were moshing?” Uncle John said, raising a questioning brow.

We didn’t say anything, purposely keeping our mouths stuffed full.

“Just make sure your mom doesn’t find out, Ricky.”

“Hey guys, don’t look now, but those girls over there are checking you out.” Brett bobbed his head in the direction behind us.

“Ugh, they’ve been following us all day like lost puppies,” I told them.

“Well, that won’t be a problem anymore,” John said.

We looked behind us, seeing the girls retreating backs. They must have been closer to our table than I’d thought.

“I think they heard you.”

“I’ll go apologize,” I rose, but when I turned around, they’d disappeared into the crowds.

As I sat back down, the talk turned to the bands we’d seen so far and before we knew it, the sun was setting, and Marilyn Manson was being announced.

When we stood to run off toward the lawn area, Uncle John said, “Meet us back here when it’s over, guys.”

We waved back to them, letting them know we’d heard what they said before merging into the crowd heading toward the stage area. We wove our way through to try and get to the front of the lawn area. Ricky and I were about the same height, tall for our ages, but still nowhere near as tall as the adults surrounding us. After pushing our way to the front, we found ourselves lost inside a cloud of smoke.

“Dude,” Ricky whispered to me, “I think that’s pot.”

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