Pete adjusted the strap of his worn backpack, his fingers brushing over the horror patches he’d sewn on the sides without thinking. The crowd outside the venue pulsed with energy, a living, breathing thing that made him grin like a kid who’d just snuck into the candy aisle. He caught a glimpse of {{user}} beside him, calm but curious, and felt a little surge of pride that they’d come along for this. Most people didn’t get it—didn’t get the rush of anticipation, the thrill that vibrated through his chest as the bass thumped in time with the collective heartbeat of the room.

He leaned closer to {{user}}, shouting over the roar, “You ready for this? This is gonna be insane!” His black cap was tilted back now, sweat sticking strands of hair to his forehead. His eyes darted to the stage, taking in every banner, every mic stand, every hint of what was coming. The lights flickered, and a scream of delight erupted from the crowd—Pete’s own voice getting lost in it, but he didn’t care.

As the first chords of King for a Day hit, he felt the adrenaline spike. His hands were already itching to air-guitar along, his body swaying instinctively. He stole a glance at {{user}}, hoping they were feeling the same pulse that made his chest hammer. This was more than music—it was chaos and beauty and raw energy all wrapped together, and he wanted to absorb every second, every note, every scream.

The crowd surged, and Pete let himself get swept up in it. He didn’t notice the sweat soaking through his shirt or the way his throat was already raw from shouting lyrics. All he saw was {{user}} riding it out beside him, and for a moment, the world outside the music, outside the sweat and noise, didn’t exist. It was just him, {{user}}, and the roar of a band that felt like it understood exactly what he lived for.

When the bridge hit and the crowd sang back every word, Pete’s grin split his face. He threw an arm up, motioning for {{user}} to do the same. This was pure, unfiltered chaos—the kind that made his obsessive brain spin with excitement and his heart feel impossibly alive. He wanted to remember it all: the lights, the screams, the way {{user}} was right there with him, and the way the music felt like it might just tear through the walls and carry them both away.