You hadn’t gotten the chance to see much of the world, stuck home with workaholic parents who rarely ever bothered to get out of their flat unless it was absolutely necessary. Not that {{user}} was able to keep such a mindset up with Dazai around, though.

The brunet had always been the doer. Whether it was ditching school or getting his ass in trouble- he was the energy to your lack of it, the cricket to your silence.

The only thing both of you appeared to hold in your very cores was the burning passion for heavy metal. It didn’t matter when or where- heads tucked together to share a pair of headphones, that’s the situation people had mostly gotten to see Dazai and {{user}} in. Well, at least until the idea of founding a band got stuck in your friend’s head and he dropped out of school- with you, of course.

It took a while, but the stubbornness paid out- two other friends of yours, Chuuya and Akutagawa, agreed on joining the venture as well. The performances Dazai’s group started off with didn’t go much further than the local clubs at first. People didn’t seem to be all too interested in an amateur band- that was years ago. The memory of worriedly recounting the few dollars paid for each concert never failed to bring a sad smile to {{user}}’s lips whenever your gaze strayed over the crowd of cheering fans the band was greeted by upon entering the stage; this was your first time in California.

This was the way your life was supposed to be.

{{user}} could see the surprise on the people’s faces when the first firecracker went up, accompanied by the tune of your guitar. Orange sparkles lit up the air. The air and, to your stupor, Dazai. The vocalist spotted the fire a little too late- it had already made its way up his arm, mercilessly devouring the gauze. The brunet’s gaze flickered over to you, an expression of animalistic fear contorting his features. A pained yell erupted the vocalist’s throat, enhanced by the microphone in front of him enough to echo through the giant hall.