Chapter Text
The screams and energetic cries haven't died down yet, rising in volume each passing minute until it reached a certain amount, a roar going through the crowd of 30,000 people that came to see them – and other artists, as well -- perform tonight; it's almost unbelievable how popular they had become. The multi-coloured spotlights overhead shedding some lighting over the crowd and the smoke all around them, and from his spot at the center of the stage he can see the hands raised, fingers curled into the devil's horns symbol or in a fist.
He lives for this. This is what he was born for. He knows this, can feel the energy coming from the crowd's loud roar, can feel the adrenaline running through his veins; he is covered in sweat and washed in multi-coloured lights, smoke obscuring half of his body. He knows that this is also what his bandmates – his friends feel.
( friendship was something he knew, way back when he was in a band with a beautiful brown woman with sharp eyes and a great sense of humour, a blond, blue-eyed, square-jawed man that he inevitably fell in love for, a man thrice his size with a gentle soul and a booming laughter, and so many others that were dragged into a messy affair with the company; friendship was something he found, and would do anything to keep. )
It is a great feeling, to sing his heart out to a crowd this large, to feel like he is, in some way some how, connected with this many strangers just through feelings put into music and lyrics that speak volumes about a great many things.
He grabbed a water bottle, mind running a mile a minute, and drank until the bottle was nearly finished. The next song they're going to perform is a cover, a song that he fell in love with ( just like how he fell in love with the very man that ended up breaking his heart and disappearing ) the first time he listened to it – the lyrics, the emotions, everything about the song had spoken to him, throwing him back in time when everything was through rose-coloured glasses and they believed that they were ok; it was the first time in many years that he broke down ( first time was when they received an award for their album, he went back to the hotel room and cried, cried, and cried until the only thing he felt was this liberating emotion – happiness wasn't unknown to him, but he knew that the reason he felt that way back then was because of how well-loved his hardwork was. ) and he finally calmed down the only feeling was this numbness that overcame him, and then the bone-deep exhaustion settled in, weighting him down, pulling him further into memories he would rather not remember. The past was the past and it should stay that way.
Shaking his head to free himself from the thoughts, he grabbed the acoustic guitar and slung it over his neck then went towards the mic, "now this song… well, it might break your heart so be sure you've brought tissues with you. This song is called Lost On You," looking at Amelie to signal that she can began the first notes, and the lights dimmed, leaving only a few so that they wouldn't be drenched in total darkness – though that'd be preferable, seeing as his heart is beating too fast and his memories threatening to overwhelm him – and then he began to strum on the guitar.
"When you get older, plainer, saner, will you remember all the danger that we came from? Burning like embers, falling, tender, longing for the days of no surrender years ago, and will you know. So smoke 'em if you got 'em, 'cause it's going down, all I ever wanted was you. I'll never get to heaven 'cause I don't know how," he began to pour everything he is feeling, all the desperation and sorrow and sadness that he bottled up for so long, into this one song – he let the memories of past that he led flood his mind, he's not paying that much attention to the crowd's reaction, too lost in the emotions flooding every ounce of his body, in remembering how he had felt for the blond that broke his heart, in remembering how happy he was – married to him, they had a life together before everything was torn apart and the rug snatched from beneath them in a sudden twist of events.
"Let's raise a glass or two to all the things that I've lost on you, tell me are they lost on you? Just so that you could cut me loose, oh oh, after everything I've lost on you. Is that lost on you? Is that lost on you?" He can feel the tears stinging his eyes, ready to fall, blurring his vision when he opened his eyes – when has he closed them? – to see the crowd, and oh, oh, his heart stuttered a beat at the bright little lights illuminating the place like little fireflies in the dark, waving left and right – he had to close his eyes, the tears already slipping down his face voice and hands shaking, but he continued, persisted, to pour everything he has to offer into this one song.
( what will the people say when they realize that the great singer Gabriel Reyes has cried? He doesn't care what they say about him, it isn't a crime to show some emotions every now and then and it is certainly not a crime to cry about a love that was so perfect and was lost. )
"So smoke 'em if you got 'em 'cause it's going down, all I ever wanted was you. Let's take a drink of heaven, this can turn around. Let's raise a glass or two to all the things I've lost on you, tell me are they lost on you? Just so you can cut me loose, after everything I've lost on you. Is that lost you? Is that lost on you?"
The tempo of the song, melancholic and desperate, continued after the last of the lyrics were screamed into the microphone, and he's lost in the emotions and memories rolling through him, overwhelming him – he can hear the crowd's loud "oh oh oh" but did not dare to open his eyes again.
( what is he so afraid of that he doesn't want to open his eyes? Is it the crowd's reaction to him crying – pity or sympathy? – or is it the memories that are pouring through him, drowning him like a waterfall? The dam has broken and he knows that there is no way he can stop torrent, not any time soon. )
Even when the music stopped and he felt a hand – small, lithe, with calloused fingers – rubbing his back, he did not want to open his eyes but he did anyway despite half of his mind telling him not to, and looked from the corner of his eyes at Sombra – oh. Oh. It isn't pity that he expected but something else, something warmer, gentler, tender in a way that left him breathless for a moment – sympathy, it was sympathy that he saw in her eyes.
He closed his again, took deep, ragged, shaking breathes to calm himself, wiped his tears with his hands, and nodded once, twice, in reassurance – to himself? to his friends? – before opening his eyes again. The chants did not stop, nor did the little fireflies-like lights of the crowd's phones, lighting up the place and making him wonder what did he – they, Talon -- do to deserve this.
"Alright!! God, you guys are something tonight! Now, by popular demands from you guys, we will sing this one last song and I want every single one of you to sing it. Are you ready?" A roar went up, the spotlights flickered to the beat of the drums -- he looked back to see Akande's concerned gaze and he gave a nod before looking back at the crowd, knowing full well what that concern meant and at the same time not being able to handle the weight of it, at least not now -- and the little fireflies of lights went down though he can see there are a few lingering here and there; he smiled. Not his usual bright one, it's a little broken, a little shaky, but it is a smile nonetheless. "I'm sorry I couldn't hear that, I said are you guys ready?!" A louder, almost thunderous, roar was his answer. Grinning, he nodded. Reassurance to himself, to his bandmates – his friends, family -- as much as it is a reply back to the audience.
He'll be ok, they'll be alright. He thought to himself and traded the acoustic guitar for an electric guitar, and with that final thought he lost himself in the next song and in the crowd's enthusiasm and love. It'd be alright.