The Deadlights: The Concert
Stan started this band as a way to, as one does, express his feelings for someone else. Someone close to him. Someone who was so blind and oblivious that here he was standing in the front section of the concert crowd, with some girl Stan's never seen before. And she's wrapped around him like they're together? Is Bill... with her?
Stan feels his stomach tighten. His hands are shaking as a rush of crushing realization hits him. He doesn't even realize when he hits the ground from his knees giving out. They aren't on the stage performing, thank whatever entity was smart enough to stop them. But that didn't stop everyone back stage from gathering around him.
"Will you give him some space?" Stan knew that voice. He looked up, seeing Richie. Richie had joined as the bassist, and after a lot of convincing the back up dancer. He was always the "fun" of the concerts, dancing and causing mischief as he played, a large smile on his face the whole time. But right now, that smile wasn't anywhere to be seen. His eyebrows were pinched together as he was pushing people away from Stan. His large hands were practically shoving stage production away with little effort.
A hand touched Stan's shoulder, drawing his attention to another man. "Stanley, you ok?" Mike asked, his voice way more gentle than what Richies just was. Mike joined as the piano player at first but eventually took up drums as their music taste adjusted. Stan looked into Mike's coffee coloured eyes, trying to find an answer. He was confused, lost. He looked to the ground, the corner of his eye catching Richie leaning with the other two.
"Want me to go say something?" He heard Richie ask. Stan let out a shakey breath. He slowly looked to Richie. He didn't see that anger anymore, just... an understanding. Of course Richie would understand, out of everyone, of course. He had seen this same pain on Richie's face every time they saw Eddie Kaspbrak talking to a girl. No matter what Stan, Beverly, anyone told Richie, that pain was always there.
Stan shook his head, clenching the green flannel that hung off his shoulders. It was funny earlier when Stan put it on. How small it looked on him if he wore it normally, making him look like all his clothes shrank or something. He always had something of Bill's on him when he performed. Shirts that he had modified, socks when he couldn't find a pair of his own. But this flannel, was new to the concert scene.
Bill had left it over during a sleepover. And Stan was going to return it, honest, but he needed something for the concert. It fit so well with his black halter top, jeans and green, black shoes. It was like Bill had chosen the outfit himself. Of course the fishnet under the jeans were Stan's idea, but he couldn't take all the credit, truly.
He had draped it down, looking at himself in the mirror, moving and checking poses as he did. He put his hands on his hips, practically beaming with excitement as he felt "perfect". Even Bev and Eddie praised the outfit. Saying things like "awe you're so cute" and "the flannel completes it". It filled him with pride he only felt when he did these concerts.
At least, that was before all this started. Before his world came crashing down. He was so torn. Angry cause how dare Bill be so touchy with that girl, that none of them ever heard of. Confused, cause he made his feelings obvious, right?And... embarrassed.
Richie and Mike exchanged a look, and before either of them said a word, even a letter, Stan grabbed their hands. All three stood and Stan looked back out to the crowd. His chest had a pain that he could only describe as if someone was squeezing you too tightly. Suffocating. He closed his eyes, taking a large breath. "I need the set list," he stated, his voice threatening to crack. "We're making some changes tonight."
