Is It Too Late?

Four years. Four years since I'd seen them, let alone spoken to them, and yet here I was getting ready to go to their show. Why am I doing this? The question looped around in my brain on constant repeat from the second I stepped outside of my dingy apartment. I had no reasonable explanation other than I bought the ticket on impulse when I saw who the band was. Not even four years could erase the memories I had with them, and all I could focus on at that moment was how much I missed them. So, I had handed over the money, and it took a few good minutes before realizing what I'd just done. There have been few times in my life where I've acted impulsively, and those few times were such a long time ago. They all circled back to the boys. It's hard not to laugh at the irony. Four years later and they've still got me acting like a teenager.

My god, what have I gotten myself into?

See, I could live with myself if I knew that I was being dramatic, but I wasn't. Not really. Because how is one supposed to act when they are about to see a person that they never thought they would see again? The very person who I went through hell and back with.

Okay, hold on, there were two people, not just one, who got me through some rough patches. Us three had spent our last four years of school together. We were inseparable after that first year. Together we struggled through the pitfalls. Cried and laughed during the good times. Our trio grew to six at the end of the third year, and from that moment on, we were our own group. The Outcasts. Rebels without a cause. It carried on like that for quite a while. The boys had started their band, and... well, it hurt to remember what had happened. It all went so fast, and I had no choice but to leave. There hadn't been time for long goodbyes or planning. For a while, there had been letters, but within a few months, those became less frequent until they stopped altogether. Lost addresses and the constant state of moving didn't help out the situation. Had it been up to me, I would've never left. Unfortunately, my parents had other ideas. Not just for themselves, but for me as well. They pictured me being someone of high society. A lawyer if you will. They often looked the other way rather than see me for who I really was. Who I wanted to be. It didn't come to be a big surprise when I dropped out of college when the opportunity came. At least to me, it wasn't a surprise. I had a passion for writing. Not for needles and patients.

That's what brought me here to Seattle. Living the dream of being an aspiring writer. Shady apartment complex included. Of course, none of that mattered right now. Right now was me walking to a stadium, where it was crowded inside and out. Parking lots filled to the brink, the streets filled with both cars and pedestrians. You could feel the excitement crackling in the air. Thousands bore shirts with the band's logo on it. It was almost overwhelming, although I wasn't walking without any knowledge about the band. I'd heard a few things here and there about them, and I couldn't resist buying a few of their records. I knew they'd be good. However, it brought along bittersweet emotions. A lot of memories too.

And you're about twenty minutes away from seeing them again, a tiny voice in my head took great pleasure in reminding me. My heart was pounding in my chest. I didn't waste time trying to calm it down because I knew the effort would be futile.

I didn't have to stand in the line that curved around the stadium because my ticket was already bought. Instead, I was led inside by security, where tons of fans were already surrounding the merchandise booths. Voices buzzed around in anticipation of the show. I felt tempted to join the crowds, but something drew me to the front of the stage. There was no designated seating, and a wall of people was already there. I managed to get close enough where I knew I would get a decent view. I desperately wanted to see them all again, and I certainly didn't plan on it being like this, but I had to take what I could get. Even if they didn't see me, which was looking to be the case. I wasn't all that tall, and the lights alone would blind them from getting any sort of view of the crowd.

That's okay, I thought. Maybe it's better off that way.

I didn't have to stand around for long. Within moments the place was packed, and the warm crackle of the amps could be heard over the crowd's chatter. Then the first strike of a chord was heard, and I didn't have to think twice about who it was that made the sound. He was on the stage, running across it like a bullet while in his schoolboy suit. The others followed, taking their respective positions. The place was jumping; I mean that with all literal sense. It was electrifying. You couldn't help but jump and dance while singing along. An hour and a half passed in what felt like a blink of an eye. It didn't last long enough. Those moments where Angus was standing at the edge of the stage, headbanging away, sent a surge of pride through me. I always believed they would make it. All those long talks outside on the porch... I almost wanted him to stop and see me. Almost. For a second, I thought maybe Malcolm had spotted me, but it couldn't have been true. I didn't spend a lot of time pondering on it. I was thrilled to see them like this, even though they didn't know that I was here. That was alright. Their lead singer, Brian- was that his name? - certainly saw me. He had pointed at me during a song and then nodded his head over towards the security guards. They were standing outside of the barrier that kept fans from stampeding up and onto the stage. It had been a quick motion, one that I had nearly missed, but it still had left me feeling confused. He had carried on through the song, never repeating his actions. The security guard, he also hadn't missed Brian's actions, and he looked as confused as I felt. He hadn't been sure himself if Brian meant for me to come over. He'd given me a shrug when I maneuvered my way to where he was.

That had been two songs before the show ended, and the place wasn't emptying any time soon. Fans were chanting 'AC/DC'. The security guard left, telling me to wait for a moment. I stood there, shuffling my feet around, growing more and more anxious by the minute. When he came back, he had Brian with him. I felt bad for the guy when Brian appeared to have brushed him off on something and strode quickly to where I was. By this point, fans weren't paying attention. They were leaving out the front doors, and Brian went by unnoticed. He looked like a regular roadie if you only glanced at him. He had a genuine smile on his face when he stopped in front of me. I didn't know why. He didn't know me. I couldn't imagine he did this for any old fan either. My hands were shaking ever so slightly. My stomach was in knots.

"Come on darlin', I ain't gonna bite ya," he teased in a heavy Geordie accent. He paused, then added with a smirk, "Well, maybe."

I tried to smile. I really did, but it felt more like a painful grimace. I didn't know what to do with myself. Brian seemed to sense this and said, "What's your name hon?"

I frowned but answered. "Amy. I still don't understand-"

"Ordinarily, this doesn't happen, but a friend of mine told me to make sure you got backstage. They saw you during the show."

"Who?" I asked, watching as the security guy worked to undo the gate and allow me to cross over to where they were standing.

"Said that you were a friend of their's," said Brian, starting to walk back to where he'd just come from. In a split second, I decided to follow him.

We went through a corridor, and Brian stopped at a door where laughter and loud voices could be heard. The smell of cigarette smoke permitted the area. My heart was beating fast, thudding in ears, and I can't stop biting the inside of my cheek. Brian opened the door, stepping in front first, so I can't see inside except for the haze of smoke.

"Hey, Mal, I got the little lass you mentioned," Brian said.

This is it, I think. This is when I wake up, and it's all a cruel dream. But I'm not waking up, and I can hear someone walking towards the door. The chatter isn't as loud as it was before. The rest of the group was certainly listening.

"Well, let me see her Bri," said Malcolm. The sound of his voice has my throat tightening with emotion. The last time I heard his voice, someone had been shoving me into my parent's car against my will.

It takes but a second where Brian moves aside, my eyes seeing the mop of dark hair first. I moved without thinking, and my arms wrapped carelessly around his neck. I burrowed my face in the hollow of his shoulder. We stumble into the room, his arms locking tightly around my waist. "I missed you too." I hear him whisper into my ear. "But, I think someone missed you even more than I did." He doesn't give me a chance to react before he gently turns me around to face a couch. But it's not the couch that catches my attention. It's the person sitting on it, a towel wrapped around their bare shoulders.

"Angus," I breath out. This is it. This is where I'm supposed to wake up.

It feels like a dream when he goes to stand up. It's as if time has slowed, each second dragging onward. I don't wait for him to make his way to me. My body isn't in control when I rush over to Angus, but he sees it coming. Maybe he was anticipating my action. His arms are open regardless, catching me when I jump into his embrace. He spins us in a shaky circle, with his arms wrapped securely around me. I nuzzle my face into his neck, but this time it feels like coming home after a long holiday. All the tension within my body relaxes. I didn't realize I was crying until he sets me down and his thumb brushes away the tears running down my cheeks.

"You kept me waiting a long time, love."