The roar of the people. Lights, cameras, music. Your band had come far, thrillingly so, after suffering for years performing in dingy old bars and cheap party hires.

"Whoo!" Hayden bumped his back against yours, the two of you hyping up the crowds with your sound. You jumped with him, grinning and belting lyrics like no tomorrow. It was impossible not to reciprocate his ardour. Hayden's fingers flew over the fret board, forehead covered in a shiny sheen of sweat. and hair pushed (somewhat) out of his face by his signature band bandanna.

Out of everyone of the instrumentals in the band, it was fair to say Keith always brought the most...vigour to the stage. Despite his common tendency to boast about his prodigal skills at shredding that electric guitar like no other, it was well validated, and no one could really complain when he was such a vital member, anyways.

Hayden's eyes always saw to seek yours out. Always bright, always sparkling in hopes that it could even begin to compare to your radiance centre stage. It was only fair he bring just as much energy. He was the last person who wanted to bring you down.

"Did you see that solo riff out there? Totally improvised. Crowds love me." He gloated comically, swigging a can of soda. Hayden glanced at you through the corner of his eye. smirking. "What, shocked to silence?'