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‘A small break, just to clear my head.’
It was his go-to excuse every time he wanted to slip out of the near deafening venue into the relative silence of the cool evening.
As Toya stepped out the back exit onto the concrete he patted down his back pocket, feeling for the half empty pack and lighter he slid into his jeans before making his escape. He let the cigarette sit on his lips for a few moments and fiddled with the lighter, flicking it a few times before properly lighting the end.
His hands, which tingled with numbness after a long night of performing, now nursed the lit cigarette. It was terribly addicting on difficult nights, how the smoke lingered on his lips and the way his eyes subconsciously followed it upwards until it dissipated into the midnight sky.
The metal railing of the concrete staircase creaked under Toya’s weight as he rested his arms on it; he shuddered slightly at the feeling of freezing metal against his bare arms before relaxing into the biting feeling. The nicotine that circulated his body finally allowed him a few precious moments to shake the venue music that infested his brain and just sit with his thoughts.
It was an arduous task for them to pivot their direction like they did, and one that was far from easy to cope with. Vivid BAD SQUAD and its former member’s names were now uttered with hints of disgrace, while their anonymity as Desiderium continued to face an uncomfortable level of scrutiny. The once familiar streets now radiated something colder, jeers and sideways glances became something of a commonplace; he felt it, they all did.
Toya absentmindedly ran his fingers along the scars on the underside of his forearm, months worth of evidence of his previous grievances with both himself and others. Those unspoken feelings were sealed with a burn from a lit cigarette during those nights as well.
Bitterness built up at the back of his throat, the usual signal that it was time to snub the cigarette and head back inside to drown out his thoughts with noise once again. It wasn’t often that he did it, seven or eight times tops, but tonight he let his craving dull his rational judgement. With one last smoke filled exhale, he turned the ashy end of the cigarette towards his scar-littered forearm, bracing himself for the intense stinging pain.
“Hey,”
A hand shot out and grabbed his wrist with enough force to make Toya jump out of his skin. His heart pounded hard for a few seconds, terrified he had been caught by the one person he didn’t want to find out.
“We talked about this.”
His fear fell away and his heartbeat evened out at the sight of An, who was leaning against the railing beside him and looking at him with deeply creased eyebrows and her lips pulled thin. He supposed she snuck out the back like he did, but whether it was out of eagerness to escape the music herself or to keep an eye on him, he didn’t care much. He shook her hand off almost effortlessly, cradling his own hand and the dying cigarette butt close to his chest as he scoffed; not at An, never at An, but at his own carelessness for allowing himself to be caught by her again.
They studied each other silently for a few moments. He could feel her gaze wandering down to his exposed arms, and he found himself mirroring the action back at her. His mouth twitched slightly when he noticed the faint bruises dotted along the side of An’s arm.
“You’re one to talk,”
He eventually retorted. An turned her head towards the same empty street Toya had been overlooking earlier and tugged at the edge of her sleeve. She likely hadn’t expected Toya to notice, given how she futilely attempted to hide more of her exposed arm.
“That doesn't excuse you.”
Her reply was low and curt. Toya knew she wasn’t mad, but it was hard to miss the way An’s face twisted with complex emotions. A heavy and uncomfortable silence quickly fell over them; the smoldering cigarette that still sat between Toya’s fingers was mostly forgotten at that point.
Faint venue music filled the tense space between them. The heavy thumping of the bass and screeching of guitars from another band’s performance could be felt all the way from the back exit; they stayed in each other’s company until the music eventually faded out. Soon after, Toya felt An gently rest her hand on his back.
“Put that thing out proper,”
An spoke in a subdued tone. She sounded softer and less imposing than before, an attempt to provide a modicum of comfort.
“I’ll meet you back inside. We are on again in 10.”
With that, her hand fell away and she slipped through the back exit as quietly as she came. Toya reluctantly crushed the cigarette out into the metal railing and rolled down his long sleeves before following An inside.
‘Perhaps these thoughts can wait for another night.’