I got my dry t-shirt on over my damp body, and slammed my stuff into my day pack. At least I was mud free. I took his towel and held it up between the stall curtains and yelled at him that the clock was running. He was still laughing. The guys were calling out all kinds of banter, some funny, some not so funny. I tried to give as good as I got, but I wasn't very good at it. I guess I was sun burnt as well, and there was a lot to say about that. Rafe started the water again and I heard his sharply indrawn breath and then his loud cussing as he rinsed off in the cold shower.

I counted a series of fifteen cuss words. It made me so irritated. I finally dropped the towel and grabbed my stuff. I had to get out of there. I heard Rafe's protests amid the loud laughter of the crew and the band.

It was an hour till concert time. I ran through the tent pavilion and managed to get myself fairly lost. I didn't know any of the stage hands--- but I found myself heading up some stairs and realized I'd come out on stage. They were busy still raising beautiful large screens above me. I took the towel off and threw it, thought about what was in my bag, very little, and dropped it too. I sat down right there and put on my shoes and socks, tied my hair up in a messy bun, and grabbed my make up bag. I stared around looking for a way off. On the other side some guys were erecting a glamorous extension to the stage, and huge spotlights were going up above. I heard someone calling my name. I turned. If it was Dylan I'd probably deck him.

I knew running off wasn't my best bet in this situation, but for the life of me, my temper had taken control. It wasn't Dylan. It was Allen--- the assistant tour manager. He caught up to me, panting.

"Rafe wants you."

"He owes me like a hundred dollars. You tell him I said so."

"Okay?" He didn't know what I was talking about. I shook my hair out and redid the messy bun.

"I'll be down there tonight. Right in front. I'm going to experience this concert." I said this with more defiance than I needed to, but I was still humiliated and pissed off. Rafe hadn't sheltered me. He'd offered me up to the wolves!

"Why don't you come back up and get something to eat?" He had collected my back pack. I grabbed at it. He held it out of my reach. "What do you want?"

"Nothing!" I turned my back on him and started across the stage. I was just going to jump off and leap over all the equipment and the barriers and the bouncers and the lights and the photographers. He grabbed my shoulder and handed me a green room pass on a string. I took it and shoved it in my tight back pocket. I stuck my tongue out for good measure and then grabbed for the back pack one more time. I remembered my phone was in it.

"I'll take it back to the bus for you."

"I need my phone." He looked like lightning hit him, and he tossed it to me so I could retrieve it.

"You won't leave will you?"

"Leave for home? No. I'm just mad right now. I'll get over it."

"They don't mean no harm, Aubrey."

"I don't care, they're rude and inconsiderate, and perverts!"

He burst out laughing and I threw the backpack on the ground and stomped off, so mad I was seeing red. I did jump off the stage and this big huge Tommy Boy bouncer came trotting over to catch me. He gave me his hand so I didn't get tangled up in stuff. Somebody was testing the lights and the sounds and both sparked right by me, and I screamed. The big guy grabbed my hand and swung me over the barrier.

"You stay in this area, and I'll watch you." He said pleasantly, saluting Allen who managed to look relieved. I turned my back on them both.

I had money in my pocket from the last time I wore these jeans, I realized they were my favorites, frayed, light sand washed, with holes in the knees. But the t-shirt was too small and ratty looking. I'd meant it to be a sleep shirt, but on the bus there had been barely enough time to grab something. Not to mention I was very hungry. I reached in my pocket, hoping the money was significant. I did occasionally leave significant money in my pockets. I brought out a couple of twenties and a credit card.

I turned and ran out the closest ground floor exit. Fortunately there wasn't a crowd. They hadn't yet let everybody in. I went to the first vendor I saw setting up and grabbed a concert T and a hat. The sun was still feverish. I needed glasses too. This guy pointed me in the direction of water. I didn't see any food. I did see the crowds being let in. I jammed it back to my place as quick as I could, not wanting to get lost.

Festival seating which isn't seating at all, but standing puts a tremendous pressure on the people in front. I'd never been to a concert like this, but I'd watched a few concerts on TV. I knew my bouncer friend would stand fairly close , he knew who I was. He wore a radio too. If I really needed help, other than my own training I would have it. But right now I didn't want any help. I put the new T-shirt on and pulled the old one out, shoving its neckline in my back pocket, hoping I didn't lose it, but not caring if I did. I put the baseball cap on and the glasses, and that cut down on the glare and the brightness of sunset. People instantly crowded close, yelling at the bouncers who had gathered.

I wasn't yelling. I was drinking my water.

I was at the confluence of stages to the left of center. The distance between main stage and side stage and the barrier here wasn't too great. After the concert, I would see if I could get back the way I'd come. I drank some more water and looked around at those closest to me.  There were a lot of young women, they seemed dressed decently and none were smoking. All had water. There were some guys. I felt relatively safe, and glanced back at the big screens, they were huge and almost not visible from my place. That was okay. Tonight I wanted the action. I wanted to be right here, screaming with all the others. I was still tense and still excited, still defiant.

The concert started with instructions on the big screens. I drank more water and milled around, standing first on one foot and then the other. I doubted the wisdom of this move. Then as Gunn came out on stage and hooked up I found myself watching with rapt attention. They hadn't played last night, it had been Conger and King Horn Ruff. Jeremy was wearing his shorts still and his leg was bandaged conspicuously. I had the initial instinct to go and check it, but reminded myself I was a spectator. My tension was leaving me, and being replaced with a different kind of excitement.

The sun was going down. The air was still hot, from bodies pressing close. I had very little personal space, and because I was little, they were crowding me. I took a hold of the guy closest and told him I was there, and not to step on me. He laughed and laughed and said he'd put me on his shoulders if I couldn't see. I laughed and said I might take him up on it, if necessary. He was a big guy anyway. I thought it was best to make friends.

Jeremy started playing and I admired his energy in the face of what had to be a number of pain pills and a sore leg. He was sun burnt as well. Levi was rocking it on the drums and I couldn't see him very well, but the screens which were off to the sides helped.

My friend's name was Juan, of course. He didn't look Hispanic, and he spoke English with a slight accent, but he kept me at his elbow, as he yelled and waved his arms and clapped.

Conger came on next and did about twenty minutes. I knew their songs from the night before, and tried to sing along. But it was when the break came that Juan said I'd better get on his shoulders. Everybody was crushing forward to be closer to Axis. The forum went dark after a few set up minutes, and then fireworks went off and the loud speaker announced to a freaking out crowd that the guys would be a little late.

But they weren't late.

There were a lot of lights, a really good light show, much better than the night before. I guess it depended on the venue.

I tugged on Juan's arm and he easily lifted me up and I climbed on his back. He held my calves loosely and I felt pretty confident that he could hold my weight without too much trouble. I waved my arms as the guys came on stage and I started screaming when Rafe grabbed the mike and welcomed everyone to the concert. I doubted he could see me with the spotlights on him and shining in his face. But oh, man, he looked hot.

He wore comfortable black jeans with his favorite gangster/ non-gangster belt. His red t-shirt was not tucked in, and I saw it had a frayed end too. He wore his black leather jacket over it, and when he grabbed the mike, he opened that jacket the way he'd opened and flung out the suit jacket the other night when we'd gone dancing. The girls in the front went wild. It was this silly little opening dance move, but it sure got their attention. It sure showed off his chest in the red t-shirt.

The song choices in the beginning were wild rockers, not ones he'd done last night.

I recalled them from a few years ago, and was amazed at his incredible energy. His eyes were dark, flashing, and intense. His voice was electric. I screamed along with the best of them.

This was a very different approach than the comfy seats of last night. This concert had way more energy if that were possible. Rafe and the guys were on fire! They ran all over the place, jumping in place, and engaging the audience more than ever. He did this whole running thing, skidding to a stop, bent over, high notes that literally took your breath, and low sexy notes that did the same. Dylan had a drum solo that sent everyone into a frenzy, and Rafe had grabbed his guitar and he and Ben were jamming together, laughing, having fun.

"Thank you so much, Mexico!" Rafe was yelling. "This is such an awesome crowd! You guys are amazing!" They all screamed more. He went into a semi-slower less frenzied crooner with a disco type beat, one I hadn't heard before, and I swayed with Juan's big shoulders, catching the emotion as he led us all. The whole stadium knew the song, and the feel of the crowd singing with him was inflammatory. And then they brought a stool and Rafe, who was glistening with sweat from his forehead, down his neck, and pooling above his jeans on his red t-shirt, threw off the heavy leather jacket, to the crowd's intense pleasure and he talked for a few minutes about his next song and where it came from. I could tell by the looks of the other band members that this was not normal.

"This song was written by me and Ben a few years ago when we were both going through some really hard times. We were working on it, just jamming around in his front room, on our guitars and Troy came over and started playing around with it. He came up with the chorus---

He choked up as the memory hit him, and the audience visibly hushed. It seemed everyone knew or realized that this was significant. I felt my own throat close up. Juan gripped my legs harder.

*******