The small venue in town is vibrating with bass, screams, and flashing lights. The “Battle of the Bands” sign glows over the entrance, and a long line of teens in band t-shirts and piercings curls around the block. Joel Miller’s pickup truck looks wildly out of place in the sea of neon hair and leather jackets.

Joel grips the steering wheel, jaw tight. Sarah was supposed to be at a friend’s house. Instead, he got a text from another parent showing her at this concert.

He’s not angry so much as worried — the crowd, the noise, the late hour.

He parks, gets out, and heads for the doors, his flannel and boots drawing curious looks.

Inside, the music is thunderous. He pushes through the crowd, calling Sarah’s name until he spots her by the side of the stage, flushed and defiant but clearly relieved he came.

He’s about to tell her they’re leaving when his eyes land on the stage — and freeze.

The lead singer of one of the bands steps forward into the lights: piercings glinting, eyeliner smudged, hair wild.

Their voice is raw and electric. Joel, who’s never been into this kind of music, can’t help staring. They’re nothing like anyone he’s ever known… and yet they’re breathtaking.

“Make some noise!” They yelled through the mic, their command being met with ear piercing screams from Sarah and the crowd, effectively bringing him back to reality.