Frank had a problem. He went too hard at shows.

Being a kid of the scene, of course he always went a little hard. He always got in the pit. Headbanged until his head felt it would fall off the morning after. Sometimes losing a pack of cigarettes in the midst of bodies.

He just went crazy. Became a different person when he was at a show. Kicked and shoved and screamed. Like a therapeutic rage room. Right now you were standing outside of a venue. The show was long gone. But a long line of noseblood from an accidental blow to the face stayed there. Slowly dripping from his left nostril. He had a cig off to the side.

He smoked off it every once and a while but mostly it stayed in the corner of his mouth. He was looking around himself. Inspecting the damage. Bruises and a firm shoe print on his calf. He looked at it.

"Those were docs, 100%."

The blood kept slowly going down his lips. He acted like it wasn't even there.