happieststarters

hitting the tent stakes into the ground, he checked the guy lines to make sure that they were secure and tight enough and took a step back crossing his arms to admire his work.

"MOSH PIT!" Anna screamed. "WOOOOOOOO!"

@happieststarters

"Man, it's really great to see the town getting together for something like this, don't you think? I mean, this could make a real impact on people."

Arthur hurried through the bustling crowd, arms laden with equipment for Misty's band. After all, he'd promised James he'd help get everything set up before the performance. Weaving between clusters of concertgoers, he offered each passerby an apologetic smile.

"Coming through—excuse me! Sorry, just need to squeeze past... Thank you! Could you move just a little? I have to get backstage." He flashed a grateful grin over his shoulder. "Have a wonderful evening!"

The world knew Ella Fontaine as many things, but there were still corners of herself she kept carefully tucked away. One of those secrets was her voice—clear, powerful, and effortlessly suited to the soaring melodies of pop rock. It wasn't something she flaunted. It simply belonged to the quieter parts of her.

So when the opening chords of a song she knew by heart burst through the speakers, instinct took over before self-consciousness could. With her daughter perched happily on her shoulders, Ella sang along, laughter woven between every lyric. There was no audience in her mind—only the music, the little girl giggling above her, and a moment that felt wonderfully free.

Then James appeared beside her, holding out the microphone with an encouraging smile.

Her eyes widened.

"Oh—no, I couldn't..."

But Dandelion looked at her with such eager excitement that refusing suddenly felt impossible. Heat rushed to Ella's cheeks as she accepted the microphone with hesitant hands. Drawing a steadying breath, she let herself sing.

The notes came effortlessly, rich and warm, carrying far beyond the crowd. For a few fleeting moments, her nerves melted away, replaced by the familiar comfort of the melody. Mother and daughter sang together, their voices blending into something joyful enough to earn smiles from everyone close enough to hear.

As the chorus ended, James reclaimed the microphone and returned to the stage, leaving Ella standing there in stunned silence.

Only then did the realization hit her.

She covered her burning face with one hand and let out a soft, mortified laugh.

"Oh my..." she muttered beneath her breath, shaking her head. "That was embarrassing."

Elsabeth had never been one for concerts. Crowds, noise, and the overwhelming rush of so many people packed together had always been enough to keep her at home. But this evening was different. It was for the Redwood Trees, and that alone was reason enough to step beyond her comfort zone. As she scanned the festival grounds, knowing her soon-to-be wife was somewhere in the sea of smiling faces, a quiet smile tugged at her lips. Life had taken turns she never could have imagined. She was happily engaged to Honeymaren, her sister Anna had made a home with them, and for the first time in a very long while, the future felt warm instead of uncertain.

Seven years ago, she would have hidden away in her bedroom, curtains drawn tight, convincing herself the world outside was too much to bear. Now, she stood beneath glowing stage lights with a red plastic cup cradled in her hands, swaying and laughing as the music washed over her. Therapy hadn't erased the difficult days, but it had given her the courage to live through them instead of hiding from them. Each beat of the song, each carefree step she took, was a quiet reminder of how far she had come—and perhaps the greatest victory of all was that she was finally allowing herself to enjoy the moment.

"Oh! You're here as well!" she said happily seeing a person in a distance.

Lady surveyed the crowd with the unwavering focus of a hawk circling its prey. Becoming a duchess had changed many things about her life, but it had done precious little to dull the instincts forged through years of police work. Once a cop, always a cop—that old saying rang true enough. Her gaze swept effortlessly from face to face until a discarded paper cup arced through the air and landed carelessly on the ground.

She was moving before she'd even consciously decided to, closing the distance with the effortless authority that had once made seasoned criminals think twice. Her voice cut cleanly through the festival chatter, sharp enough to turn more than one head.

"Pick that up," she ordered, fixing the culprit with a look that brooked no argument. "Before I fine you for littering."

"Hm... the music's okay I guess, but I kind of came for the food, mostly," she said, taking another bite of a vegan burrito that wasn't half bad. "What about you? Do you know anyone from the bands?"

Prodigal Daughter's latest show was, unsurprisingly, a success. Not that Shock expected any different. What she did expect, right after the band has played its last encore, was to be able to have something nice and cold after all the water bottles she had brought with her ended up rather lukewarm.

"Finally," she sighed, taking a long swig of a can of almost-frozen beer. There were a bunch of little stands with food and drinks, and she had basically headed to the nearest one and slammed her money on the counter for quick satisfaction. "Uh... what else do you have, that's savory and filling?"

The fourth of July had now passed, and with it the need to display US-flag-stamped everything. August had no federal holidays, or religious holidays, or anything to look forward to in any particular way (unless someone was a big fan of International Cat Day, which Sally had marked on her calendar; she would have to get Henry a gift, after all). Still, enough time had passed that Sally could take down the last holiday's decorations, and prepare a new colorful, summer-themed display.

So was her luck, though, that just as she got on her tiptoes to hand a bunch of balloons, she accidentally lost her balance, dropping an entire box full of little knickknacks. Sally sighed. It was alright --it was a slow day at the store, anyway.

"come on, light goddamn it"