So, something really funny happened the other day (my girlfriend didn't think it was funny, but come on, I couldn't stop laughing). We were at a rock bar watching an amazing performance by a band playing Ghost covers when some random guy emerged from the crowd and stopped right in front of us. I can describe him? Maybe? He was blond, average height, dressed all black, and had an expression that was simultaneously creepy and cartoonish, icy blue eyes and a really exaggerated smirk. Anyway, the guy just stood there, staring right into my soul with that smirk, so I looked away, but he kept staring, so I thought, "Does he want to be friends?... Or is he trying to hit on my girlfriend?" Then he looked at me again and held out his hand, and I thought, "Alright, he wants to be buddies, wants a handshake?" and I held out my hand AND THEN tell me why this mfr KISSED my fucking hand?! All while staring at me with that bizarre look on his face! I was so confused I gave him a "what the fuck, man?" look. He glanced at my girlfriend, looked back at me, and pointed at both of us as with his head as if asking, "Are you two together?" She nodded quickly, then he just shrugged and went for a fist bump with us both... It was really weird, and yeah, he didn't say a single word.
That place was weird, let me tell you, we saw a clown and a guy riding a unicycle that night... Ironically enough the clown wasn't the guy riding the unicycle, that guy was just your regular joe... But with a unicycle.
WHEN SHOULD YOU SIGNAL FOR A SHOW STOP AT A ROCK CONCERT?
Show stops seem to be getting more and more common, and not always for good reason. It's good to be aware that you can signal to security if something dangerous is happening, but stopping for every inconvenience is going to take away from security doing their jobs. You've probably seen clips online of people waving their arms, making X shapes, or waving their phone lights to signal for help, or of artists stopping to make sure someone is okay--but don't be the asshole who brings everything to a halt for no reason
At Download festival this year, stoppages ranged from completely justified (serious injury at Limp Bizkit), to moderate danger (dense crowds at Architects) to completely uncalled for (someone losing a shoe at Linkin Park). People don't seem to agree on what justifies a show stop, but the most important thing to note is that you can get help from security or staff without stopping the show
A show stop is only necessary when the entire audience and band needs to be notified of an issue. Such as if a fainted person can't be safely carried out or passed over the barrier, or if someone is injured and needs a stretcher, or if there's a crowd crush severe enough that everyone needs to take a step back. Otherwise, it isn't really doing anything to help the security team, it only gets people aggravated
Think, can your issue be dealt with by you leaving the situation, or with the help of a few friends, or by getting a member of venue staff to assist you? You should try these things first, unless there is a genuine emergency. False calls are dangerous, because people are only going to take them less seriously going forward. Bands aren't insensitive for continuing to play while someone has fainted or is injured--as long as there is security and medics dealing with the issue
Some may forget, but this is their job. They get paid to put on a good show, and the venue pays for security so that the band doesn't have to have to split their attention looking for injuries. If the security is good and the venue is organised, a band shouldn't have to stop their set at all
So if you're going to any shows in the future, please try to get along with the people around you, don't start fights, pick a spot you feel safe in rather than pushing to the front then getting scared, avoid moshpits if you don't think you can handle them, and stay safe so shows can run smoothly
Whenever I talk to people who were young adults in the late 90s, early 00s, I feel such *envy*. Like, what do you mean you could go to alternative parties every week? What do you mean, people were openly having sex and using drugs in clubs and it wasn't, like, a Huge Deal? What do you mean, people were having fun with gender without worrying about labels? What do you mean, people actually dressed up to go out and didn't just show up to the dancing in sweatpants?
Like, having alt and raver friends who are a generation older than me is such an eye opener. I know it's not just nostalgia, I've seen the (often analog!) photos.
I'm not usually one to say I was born in the wrong generation, but fuuuck. I'm really lucky if I can go out maybe twice a month to a party with alternative music, throw in maybe a concert every couple months when a band I like tours in the wider area. A club that was a liiiiitle edgier didn't even last a year in my town before the cops raided it for drugs and shut it down, and I swear it wasn't a problematic venue -it was just a club. In the city center. It's all NIMBYism, noise laws, drugs scaremongering, nightlife being priced out of city real estate, crusades against DIY venues, and people too scared of the smartphone panopticon to do anything at all when they're out. If they even go out.
Like... I know better than to complain too loudly, I'm glad to get what I get, but... Shit's bleak.
This is the first draft of Tim telling the team (actually just Wally here) about the Mall encounter. I really liked Wally's reaction here, felt more raw, but it didn't really go with the vibe I wanted to achieve, and also made it more messy for telling the rest, so I changed it, but I wanted to share it, mostly because part 13 is under revision cuz even though I said we are getting to the end, my dumbass came with a new thing to add and I'm trying to get to it. So Enjoy!
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Tim had seen them from across the food court, a blur of familiar black and white against the neon glow of a movie poster. His suspicion about Wes's new "boyfriend" had only grown since their arrival—Danny was too quiet, too withdrawn, too... not the happy kid Wes's photo albums had shown and Wally talked about from his conversation with Wes. So when Tim saw him, his quick impulse to confirm his doubts turned into an active pursuit.
He followed Danny through the crowded mall, keeping a discreet distance. He saw Danny glance nervously over his shoulder every few seconds, his eyes darting around as if expecting someone to jump him. When another figure, a girl in gothic clothes, joined him, Danny’s shoulders seemed to tense even further. Tim's initial thought, that Danny was sneaking out to cheat on Wes, solidified into a grim certainty.
Tim kept to the edge of the crowd, using store displays and slow-moving shoppers as cover, until he was close enough to hear them. He watched as the girl in the hoodie, Sam, led Danny away from the main thoroughfare and down a quieter, dimly lit hallway that was empty of people but still within the public area. The sounds of the mall—the music, the chatter, the announcements—faded to a low hum. It was the perfect place for a hushed, secret conversation., so he moved quickly and hid easily to hear them.
"You've been acting weird all day," Sam said, her voice low and full of concern. She took Danny's hand, and his fingers trembled slightly in her grasp. "What’s going on, Danny?"
Danny looked away, his gaze fixed on a fire extinguisher on the wall. "It's dumb. It's just... I feel like I'm whoring myself up."
Sam’s eyes widened, her grip tightening on his hand. "Danny, what? No! Don't say that." She stepped closer, pulling him fully into the shadows of the empty hall. "Why would you say that?" She asked gently, carefully moving her thumb over Danny’s knuckles.
Danny’s voice cracked. "Because, aren't I? Being with Wes, living with him. He knew I couldn't afford all this, and he offered to help with the rent. He said he'd take care of things and he accommodated my necessities, and all he asked in exchange... is for me to be with him." He said with a grimace, it wasn't a lie, just not exactly what was going on, but he was way too paranoid to outstraight admit the show he and Wes were putting on.
"Danny, no..." Sam said softly, but Danny pulled his hand from her grasp and started pacing in the small space. His movements were uncoordinated, his words spilling out faster.
"And I don't even like it! I don't really like him. For God's sake, Sam, he stalked me! He was worse than Dash!" He stopped and turned to look Sam in the eyes. "With Dash, I just had to endure some bigotry and bruises. It was annoying, but it didn't bother me, not really, just something else to deal with. But Wes?" He turned away again, hugging himself and grabbing his elbows while avoiding Sam's concerned gaze. "He made me start watching over my shoulder in the hallways, made me hide anything of mine from easy access, even my trash! I blocked my windows, kept my curtains closed, and spent as much time as I could at your place or Tucker's because I knew it would be harder for him to get there! And even now… I feel like I'm being followed. It’s like high school all over again. I feel like I could turn down the hallway and find him with his camera right now… " A shiver went down his spine at the thought, and he paled a bit, having to swallow a thick gulp down his increasingly dry throat. "This whole arrangement is making me lose my mind. I don't know if I can keep it up… It reminds me way too much of Vlad…” He whispers.
Tears welled in Danny’s eyes and he tried to blink them away. "I have to... to share a room with him. Sleep in the same bed. Be... be affectionate." His voice cracked again, and he buried his face in his hands. "It's not about touch or something. I hate this about myself, but I like the casual shows of affection. I like being able to just lay down comfortably with someone, to cuddle, hugs... I love affection, and sometimes I feel like I crave it, like some pathetic kicked dog,” he spat. "And even though I don't like Wes and hate all this arrangement, I can't help but lean in if he side-hugs me or something. It makes me feel gross, like, I shouldn't like it. Like I should pull away, but I just don't! It's wrong." he said brokenly.
Sam didn't say anything. She just took a slow step forward and held her arms slightly out, a quiet, non-verbal offer. Danny hesitated for a fraction of a second, his body still tense, before he simply melted into her embrace. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around himself, a form of protection, but let his head fall onto her shoulder. His body shook a little as he began to cry silently into her neck.
She held him tight, carding one of her hands softly through his hair and the other wrapped over his shoulders. "I’m so sorry Danny," she said softly close to his ear. "I should have told you before telling Wes he could ask you."
Danny shook his head without moving from his position. It was a bit awkward because he had to bend over a bit to put his forehead to Sam's shoulder, but he felt a bit better this way. "I did accept, I put thought into this and took my decision."
"Still… I should have known that Wes affected you more than I thought…" She admitted, ashamed.
"I hid it from you guys," he said. He moved his arms, wrapping them around Sam, putting his cheek onto her head, and pulling her closer, wanting to comfort her a bit too. "I didn't want you guys to worry more than you already did with all the other bullshit going on…" He sighed and squished her a bit before pulling out gently. He cleaned his face hastily and looked down to the side.
From his hiding spot at the mouth of the hallway, Tim felt a cold, sick feeling pool in his gut. The simple idea of cheating curdled into something far more sinister. This wasn't a boyfriend sneaking out to see someone else; the picture that was forming right now was screaming coercion on all fronts.
The look in Danny’s eyes, the raw terror in his voice, the desperate confession about his own conflicted feelings— made it feel like it was darker than he originally thought. And when Danny confessed his paranoia, Tim felt a sharp pang of guilt. He knew that Danny wasn't paranoid at all. He was being followed. He just didn't know it was Tim, and not Wes. His mission hadn't been to uncover a betrayal. It had been to expose a predator, and in the process, he'd only made a victim's suffering worse.
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Tim took his phone out of his pocket, his fingers shaking as he dialed. The cold fury he felt had him walking with a purpose. He heard Wally’s voice on the other end, cheerful and unconcerned.
“Sup man, you good?”
"Hey, Wally. Are you busy? Look, I've got some new information on Danny. I saw him at the mall and he was with someone. We need to talk. Can you come pick me up?" His voice was clipped, a little too precise.
"I'll be right there”.
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The car doors opened and closed with heavy, final thuds. Wally looked at Tim, whose face was a blank, controlled mask, his eyes burning with a cold anger Wally had never seen.
"Alright, I'm here. What's going on, Tim? What did you find out?" Wally asked, his hand on the key in the ignition.
"Drive," Tim ordered, his voice flat. He didn't wait for Wally to respond, just turned to face him, his hands clasped together in his lap. "I went to the mall and saw Danny with someone¡. I misjudged the entire situation from the start. I thought he was cheating on Wes."
"And?" Wally prompted, his brow furrowing as he pulled the car out of the parking lot.
"And I was wrong. I followed him and he met up with a friend, Sam. Sam Manson, right? The one who started the LGBT club?"
Wally nodded, a flash of recognition in his eyes. "Yeah, that's her. I remember. You're saying he is cheating with her?" He asked with disbelief.
“He was with her, but not cheating… I followed them and Danny looked nervous, looking everywhere, tense, like he was waiting for something to happen. I thought he was nervous of someone catching him with her, but- “He took a deep breath and kept going” He looked terrified. That girl, Sam, also noticed and pulled him over to one of the service halls, so I also went to eavesdrop on them” Tim said, his voice dropping to a low, tight murmur. He paused, as if bracing himself.
"Tim? What happened? You are getting me nervous," Wally said, looking from the corner of his eyes while trying to keep them on the road. He didn't have a specific destination, so he just drove aimlessly.
“She asked what happened cuz he was acting weird, which, facts. But Wally” Tim gets a bit of a far away look “It was disgusting…” He shook his head and cleared his head “I mean, in our line of work one gets to see many things, and I have definitely seen worse, but i guess you just never get used to it” He huffs” He said, and i quote ‘Like he was whoring himself out to Wes’, and, I mean, I kinda had that though too when we first got here. I stand corrected and feel disgusted at myself right now, no gonna lie, but, that's not the worst.
"That's not the worst?! Tim, what the hell?" Wally exclaimed, alarmed. "First of, I know you, you are gonna beat yourself up over this, but still, I’m offended on Danny’s behalf and want to beat you up. But, I'm also worried now." He started drumming his fingers on the wheel and began to park in a convenience store parking lot. "I can't drive like this. Just, finish what you were saying." Then he scrubbed his face with his hands and left them crossed over his mouth.
Tim took a breath, his fury burning cold and steady beneath his calm exterior. "What's worse is that it's not a transaction. It's not a gold digger, nor a sugar baby situation either. I hate having to tell you this, but Wall” He turns to his friend with a pained look on his face “Your brother is psychologically abusive”
“What?! Tim, what the fuck are you on? Did you hear what you just said?!” Wall was angry and looking at Tim with mad eyes.
“Walls, please, listen, this is not me being biased. I went there fully convinced that Danny was cheating on your brother and taking advantage of him. I planned on confronting him and having him come clean to Wes, but after what I saw? it was not it, so please… let me explain
Wally's anger simmered down into a tense silence, the disbelief warring with the cold certainty in Tim's eyes. He finally nodded once, a sharp, jerky motion. "Fine. Explain. From the top."
Tim began his account again, his voice now a low, chilling monotone. “So, Danny had an asshole as a bully who would beat him and push him around. But, turns out he thinks Wes was worse than that dickhead.” He took a deep breath and held a hand to stop Wally from talking when he opened his mouth "Wes used to stalk Danny. He made Danny so paranoid he started watching his back around school, hid his stuff, even trash, and had to spend all his time at his friends' places just to get away from him."
Wally’s face had gone utterly pale, his knuckles white from closing his fist too hard. The simple facts, stripped of any emotion, were more horrifying than a scream. The heartwarming love story he had been so excited about twisted into something dark and ugly.
“He was on the verge of a panic attack, Wally. He told her he's going insane.” Tim drops a sight that was building in the back of his throat and turns to the windshield “And he is getting paranoid, the reason he was so jumpy all the way to that point? He felt like he was being watched, followed. I actually felt bad for that, he was being followed by me” He started fidgeting with his fingers “he was already stressed and apparently traumatized enough that he actually felt me follow him around. I kinda want to get him an apology basket…” He mumbled embarrassed.
“That… that can’t-” Then he remembered, thinking it was odd how all the pics Wes ever sent him of Danny were from all angles but the front, always with other people but never together, not even a selfie or on a date, spending time. Wally's denial shatters, replaced by a dawning horror. He realizes the odd behavior he had seen in Wes's photos was actually a sign of something much more sinister. The realization that he may have played a part in Danny's suffering sends him into a state of panic and self-loathing.
The Realization
Wally's mind races, piecing together the subtle details he had overlooked. He replays the conversations with Wes, the constant questions about his new boyfriend, and the way Wes would eagerly send him photos of Danny. But the photos weren't what he expected of a budding relationship. They were all candid shots, taken from a distance, with Danny often smiling or laughing with his friends, never with Wes. He had explained it away as Wes being shy or just having a unique photography style, but now the truth is clear.
“What is it?” Tim asked, noticing the change in Wally.
“It's just… When I kept asking Wess about a boyfriend, he kinda bombarded me with pictures of Danny, but they were always spontaneous, I thought he was just shy or something… but, now? God..” He covers his face with hs hands and drops his head back onto the car seat “Tim what if… what if I pushed him into this” A sudden feeling of horror comes to him “Fuck, did I push him too far?” Wally says with a shaky voice “Is it my fault that Wes stalked Danny into psychological warfare? I think I'm gonna be sick” Wally quickly leaves the car, squatting and holding his head between his legs trying to breathe evenly and ignore the sick feeling in his stomach.
Tim's sharp, analytical mind immediately shifts from processing information to managing a crisis. He opens his car door and steps out, the cold fury that was a moment ago focused on Wes. He walks over to Wally, who is still hunched over, his hands gripping his knees as he tries to breathe.
Tim doesn't say anything at first, just stands there for a moment. Then, in a low, even tone, he speaks. "Wally, you're not going to be sick. Just breathe with me." He squats down and makes eye contact, not reaching for him, but holding a hand out in a gesture of calm. "One in, two out. That's it."
Wally's head shakes, his voice muffled by his hands. "It's my fault, Tim. I pushed him. I told him how great it was that he was with Wes. I did this." He sobs.
"It's not your fault," Tim says firmly, his tone not allowing for argument. "You didn't know. You didn't have the facts. The one who has the blame is Wes, he is the one that did those things.” He points out firmly, but gentle “Now, get in the car. You're not fit to drive."
He waits for Wally to slowly straighten up, then places a hand gently on his back and guides him back to the passenger side. Wally gets in without a word, his body trembling, and slumps into the seat. Tim goes around to the driver's side and slides in, the silence in the car heavy with unspoken guilt and growing rage. The roles have been reversed. Tim is now in control, and Wally now needs to process everything.
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The car was silent save for the low hum of the air conditioner. The comforting smell of car freshener did nothing to alleviate the heavy, acrid guilt that filled the space between them. Wally sat in the passenger seat, his face still pale, staring blankly out the window. His hands were clasped in his lap, and his body was rigid, as if he were trying to contain the sickness within him.
"I can't believe I didn't see it," Wally said, his voice a strained whisper. "I just... I just wanted my brother to be happy."
Tim kept his eyes on the road, navigating the empty streets. He didn't offer a platitude. He knew that Wally didn't need to be told it wasn't his fault; he needed to come to that conclusion himself. "Wes painted a very convincing picture. He knew exactly what to say to you, what you'd want to believe. It wasn't your fault that you trusted him."
Wally finally turned his head, his eyes red-rimmed and full of shame. "But I did more than just trust him, Tim. I encouraged him. I asked him about Danny every day. I was so excited for them. I pushed him into this." His voice cracked. "God, what if I'm the reason this is happening to Danny? What if I made it worse?"
Tim parked the car in an empty lot, killing the engine. He turned to face Wally, his expression firm. "You didn't. This isn't on you. This is on Wes. He's the one who chose to do this. He's the one who started this and continued to do so. And we're not going to let him get away with it."
Wally shook his head, looking utterly defeated. "What are we even going to do? Confront him? He'll just deny everything. It's his word against ours, and he'll make us look like the bad guys."
"You're right," Tim said, a cold, calculated glint entering his eyes. "That's why we don't go in blind. We need a plan. We have to get Danny out of there without Wes knowing what's happening until it's too late."
"But how?" Wally asked, his voice filled with a desperate hope.
Tim pulled out his phone, his fingers moving with a familiar, predatory efficiency. "We're going to get Danny out of there, but we need to be subtle, I’ll call the others, we need to plan"
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You guys don't know how much it pained me having to change this one, but I think the other was better for the narrative. Would've loved to make Wally suffer a bit more tho.
