My dad knocks on the door telling me I need to meet him in the car.

I mess with my black hair in the mirror and put some more grayish eye shadow on my eyes. I smile at myself in the mirror.

My mom knocks on the door, “Dad is waiting. Please just go outside.”

“Okay.”
I grabbed my iPod, and I hop down the stairs.

I get in the car. I don’t really try to connect with my dad much. I put in my earphones and let the music flood my mind.

I don’t know where we are going. I hope it’s not some strange attempt to make me normal again.

You see, my dad doesn’t like the way I dress or act. He thinks my interests are weak and stupid. He says that a real man would never wear the slightest of make-up. He also has it in his brain that I’m queer. The thing is, I’ve probably screwed more girls than him in my life time.

He tries to talk to me, but I just ignore him. After awhile he gets fed up, and pulls out my earphone.

“Didn’t mom tell you that I was taking you somewhere? Obviously that means I want to spend some time with my son.”

I look irately at him, “Why don’t you do something with Andrew. You and mom like him a hell of a lot more than me. Dad, we have nothing in common. I mean nothing!”

“Actually, son, I’m taking you to a concert.”

I looked at him suspiciously, “What? Who is it?”

“Motion City Soundtrack. You told me how you wanted to go a few months ago. I got tickets.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I am happy as hell. I know every song by them by heart.

“Nope.” he holds up the tickets.

“Thanks, dad.” I say not very appreciated

“You’re Welcome. I just think I need to make more of an attempt to bond with you. “

“Good idea, Dad.” I say tiredly.

I put my earphones in.

The drive drags on. In The Venue wasn’t the closet place in the world.

I start to get excited the closer we get to In The Venue. My heart pounds. I feel like the whole world can hear it.

We get there. They weren’t letting anyone in yet, but we wanted good parking.

We go to get food from across the road. I get a salad, and my dad gets a hamburger. We are so different.

At about six thirty they start letting kids in-most of which look a hella bunch like me. I get really close to the stage. My dad just stays in the back. After a few minutes the kids start pouring in like crazy. I just stay where I am. It was about 7 when the band comes out. Everyone starts screaming. I scream so loud. I don’t know how loud, because I can’t really even hear myself think.

They do the “blah, blah, blah thanks for coming” that all bands do at the beginning of shows. Then they start with “Time Turned Fragile”. I sing my heart out. I jump up and down with the bodies beside me. This feeling is so great. It’s a natural high. I just keep sing and jumping up and down. Through every song I keep going. They play a new song I haven’t ever heard before. It is great. The mosh pit is week compared to the ones at metal concerts. I get in. I get a few bruises, but I’m just fine.

The show ends about ten forty-five. My dad is still in the back. He smiles.

My hair is all wavy again because of all my sweat.

I approach my dad, “Thanks, dad. That was great!” I give him a huge hug. I get my sweat all over him.

He laughs, then pushes me away, “Jeez. You’re so sweaty!”

I laugh and he puts his arm around me. We get to the car. It’s hell getting out of there.