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Evan shuts the door of the taxi after grabbing his guitar case. The car speeds off then, leaving him to his own devices, not that he needed the taxi driver for anything. The event would take hours. And even then, he didn't really plan on going anywhere else after this.
His hand tightens around the handle of the case as he approaches the tall building that his manager, and friend, had booked.
The building was comforting in a way that Evan couldn't describe. Maybe it was the fact that it was smaller than the usual venues he played. Or it could be because he was back in his own hometown, a place that he had missed considerably while traveling the country.
He takes a few more steps towards the door, nervousness, and excitement racing through him. "Here goes nothing," he murmurs, pushing open the glass doors that lead inside the quaint music hall that, until now, had only seen talent shows and school dances.
The inside is classier than the outside. It was still a far cry from the places he had been before.
A strange memory pops up then, one that took place way back before his song took off. Before he graduated high school. Even before his parents split up.
Jared had talked him into signing up for the fifth-grade music showcase, claiming that he "obviously had the talent to beat those losers." Evan hadn't even made it onstage before freaking out. Luckily, Jared had been backstage with him and helped calm him down. After that, the four of them, Evan, Jared, Heidi, and Mark, decided to ditch the event, calling Jared's parents about a sleepover on the way back to the Hansen residence.
He isn't sure why that particular memory comes up, but a smile appears his face all the same as he continues on his way through the hall.
"Evan!" A familiar voice calls out, prompting the man in question to turn around. Jared is there, a bright but somehow still cocky smile on his face, holding a clipboard. "My man!" he begins, holding out a hand for their unnecessarily lengthy handshake that they both still remember for some reason. "How've you been?" he asks, completely disregarding the fact that they had met each other that morning for breakfast, but Evan doesn't entirely mind.
Not that he didn't want to do the show, no, it was just so nerve-wracking, especially right before. "I've-I've been good. I can't believe this is all almost over, though," he responds.
Jared nods, acknowledging the words before walking past him. A "follow me" is thrown over his shoulder. He leads the two of them into a room a few feet away from the stairs that lead to the stage. Then, Jared looks down at his watch. "I'm sorry to cut this short. There's still a couple of things I need to do. You've got about three hours til showtime." He heads towards the door, stopping at the last minute to give Evan a small smile.
"Welcome home, Ev."
The next few hours are uneventful, mostly just making sure he had lunch and that his guitar was tuned. And luckily, it was.
After that, he wastes time scrolling through his phone, liking random posts, and maybe making a few himself.
Around the two hour mark, though, there's a knock at his door, and a girl pops her head in, wavy brown hair covering part of her face. "Hey, Evan?" He looks up, a smile forming as he recognizes who it is.
"Something wrong, Zoe?" She steps into the room, closing the door softly behind her.
"Not really. We'll need you to test the mic in a few minutes, though." Evan nods, standing up. Zoe moves closer, reaching out to straighten his tie before smiling at him. "Are you glad to be back home?" Evan shrugs.
"It's...strange. But it's still comforting in a way. It's like going back to school after summer break, except you replace that with a music tour." Zoe chuckles, nodding herself.
"It does seem like that, doesn't it?" She moves back towards the door, throwing a look behind her. "You ready?"
Evan shrugs again, a soft smile appearing on his face. "Ready as I'll ever be, I guess." He follows her out and onto the stage, grabbing the microphone from her when she hands it to him.
The test, as expected, goes well, and the minutes continue ticking by until hour three comes to a close.
The first note echoes through the hall, Evan's eyes moving, from his mom, to his dad, and to other faces that he recognized in the small audience. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, exhaling before letting the first note drift from his mouth.
"Often, I am upset..."