Winter

Chapter One

The crowd pumped electric now that they were finally here. The wait for the amphitheater to fill had been eternal. Bodies pushed roughly up against them from behind, the heat of them intense and smothering as they jockeyed for position, but she and Tor could go no further forward, one of the so-called benefits of being in the front row, she guessed.

Winter wasn’t at all excited to be here, not excited about the band, not excited to go backstage and mingle with the stars. In fact, she didn’t like their crappy music at all. If she thought about it, and you can believe she’d certainly thought about it tonight, there was not one song of theirs that she knew enough to even hum along.

Tor, God bless him, tried to play some of--in his opinion--their finer works in the car on the way over, but she just didn’t get his attraction to them.

Or anyone’s attraction to them, for that matter.

But she was here now. Unfortunately. And leaving again, after all the effort she and Tor expended navigating through traffic, and parking and jostling through the crowd to get here, seemed all the more exhausting, especially since her boyfriend was so darned happy to be here.

Winter sighed.

At least the entertainment value the crowd provided was enough to keep her from totally going apoplectic. For Winter, people-watching was an admittedly guilty pleasure and an art she liked to think she perfected over her eighteen years. Her lonely youth, spent on the outside of the popular kids’ cliques, eating lunch on the bleachers with Tor, miserable eighteen years was not entirely wasted.

So, given her experience and qualifications, it would have been hard not to excel at it.

Once again, it seemed she was hanging about the edge of it all, never really understanding what all the people around her were so damned excited about. Everyone around her teetered bravely on the edge of giddy exhilaration, ready to tip headlong into hysteria at any moment, and Winter desperately wished she could share their enthusiasm, just this once.

She never did though.

She never had.

Winter never felt like she was on the same page as the rest of humanity. Hell, half the time she doubted they were reading the same book--and that, in and of itself, was a terribly depressing thought to have at eighteen years old. She always told herself she would grow out of it, but it hadn’t happened yet. Because of that, she couldn’t help thinking that senior year was going to suck.

Shake out of it, Win. You are reading too much into this. You should be having fun. It’s not a pity party.

Besides, it was too late to do anything about it now.

Tor asked her to come, and since he was the one to thoughtfully provide the tickets, the passes and the ride to the concert, she thought it best if she gave up her current demonstration on how to fail at being a normal kid and go with him. Winter didn’t even consider saying no when he asked, and that was her fault, she supposed, for not thinking things through properly. Now, she would just have to survive it.

Not that she would’ve said no anyway, since it was Tor asking, but she still should have given it a bit more thought. Winter pushed out a martyred sigh. She had to admit, whether or not she liked the music tonight, she certainly loved the feel of an excited crowd. There was something dangerous about being part of something so big, so wild. It was like the thin strands of constraint that held the mob within the bounds of sanity could snap without warning, spilling madness into the world. It was intoxicating to be surrounded by that many people focused on a common purpose. And a concert was one of the few places she felt that incredibly tenuous electricity of a motivated mass of people.

So there was that at least. The rest of it seemed incredibly bleak.

Behind her, a woman gave an excited whoop, and screamed Let’s get on with it!

Indeed, she thought. Indeed.

Winter curiously turned around to see who made such a noise and spied a half naked female perched on the shoulders of a very large man. The duo was terrifying, wild, drunk and sweaty. Instead of being disgusted, Winter suddenly wished she could get that excited about anything at all.

***

Tor watched her watch everyone else and thought Winter looked pretty miserable right now. Actually, that was probably the understatement of the year. Winter was miserable, all the time.

Even more so now, since her eighteenth birthday last month. She was changing before his eyes and he had no idea why.

The only time Tor thought she was actually happy about anything anymore, was when they were together. Or, whenever she was with her step-brother-uncle-friend-whatever-he-was, Bren.

Ugh. Tor shuddered. He didn’t even want to think about that familial malfunction tonight. It was a waste of time and of the precious, mental energy that he was saving up for the concert. He spent way too many hours trying to sort that mystery out and it wasn’t something he was going to waste more of his time on now, on the greatest evening of his life.

Winter was standing motionless, staring randomly out into the sea of people, her face unmoving, her eyes focused on something far in the distance. Tor poked her in the shoulder and she swayed a bit, like she was in a trance.

Babe, seriously, you’re doing it again, he teased when he finally noticed that she was staring into space instead of anything at all. Winter looked back at him blankly, blinking until she finally focused her eyes on him.

Doing what?

"You know, that thing? Where you act like you aren’t a functioning member of the human race? Snap out of it! This is a concert, Win, not meditation hour. You are supposed to have fun, remember?"

So sorry! she said, bowing low in apology. How could I have forgotten?

Winter made a face, then punched him lightly in the shoulder for teasing her. She plastered on a very fake smile, complete with visible teeth, for his benefit. That was all the invitation he needed. Tor grabbed her and pulled her close, planted a sloppy, wet kiss on her face, then laughed as she wiped the slobber from her chin.

Gross, Tor! she screeched girlishly.

He continued to laugh to himself, and put an arm around her. She leaned into him with a sigh.

At least she was trying. She was changing though, and every so often, Tor thought it was only a matter of time until he lost her for good; but not tonight. Tonight she was still his.

God I love you, Win, even if you act like an alien half the time. He kissed the top of her head gently.

I love you too.

***

Winter did love him too, that was part of the freaking problem. She would definitely not be here right now if she didn’t adore him like she did, but she was here and she could do little to change it now.

She peered up at the darkened stage, watching the furious movements going on behind the scenes. There was a mob of roadies, dressed all in black, working at the back of the stage, setting up for the main event; the reason they, and everyone else, were all here. The overworked men, gleaming with the sweat of exertion that she could see all the way from her vantage point, were dragging up instruments and set pieces, while simultaneously dismantling the remains of the previous band’s stage. It looked like a well-oiled and complicated process and she wondered how many times the crew had done that same thing this summer. Probably too many to remember. In a job like that, Winter couldn’t help but think that the days would blur into a depressing sameness that would drive her insane.

Their chore seemed so tedious. If she was in their position, she would resent cleaning up after bands that hardly mattered. The opening acts that had entertained the arriving crowd were both just all right in Winter’s opinion. She would know, as Tor insisted they arrive right as the gates were opening so that they wouldn’t miss a minute. The first groups to hit the stage were the kind of acts that were struggling with their mediocrity, striving for fame but not finding it, and were glad that a band as huge as InHuman even bothered to notice them. Winter thought those poor, determined, fame hungry souls probably performed every night like they were entertaining 50,000 people, even though she noticed the crowd was barely half full during their performances. She had to admire their determination though. It must be soul crushing to know that people weren’t there to see them.

Shaking herself out of the thought and making a concerted effort to pull herself from the confines of her head, Winter realized that she was standing there again, motionless in the vast sea of restless people just staring into nothingness. This was getting ridiculous. Thankfully, Tor didn’t notice yet.

She needed to focus. He was right. It was weird.

She probably wouldn’t have cared, but for him, she would try. Winter had long ago made her peace with her never-to-be-cool status, so she didn’t notice her social handicap too much unless she was out with Tor in the Real World when they went out and she left the safety of the bubble she created for herself, either back home or in her own head. She was always painfully aware of the differences between her and everyone else, so why even try to act like she was just like them? They all knew she wasn’t.

Suddenly, there was a man up on stage, deep in the shadowed recesses, dressed in the most God-awful black ensemble that Winter found herself hoping he was in the band and didn’t actually make a daily habit of wearing outfits that looked like Gothic vomit on purpose. The man was tall, and dark skinned. He blended in with the shadows by the side of the stage so perfectly that if she hadn’t seen the glimmer of the light reflected off his eyes, she probably wouldn’t have noticed him at all.

It was strange that she would have noticed that. Most people’s eyes didn’t shine like that as far as Winter could recall, but they flashed, almost as if they had a weird reflective quality, like a cat’s. He was partially hidden by the thick curtain, and she saw him eying her as if she was a new type of animal he had yet to see before. He tapped his fingers to his lips pensively while continuing to stare at her. Then, he smiled.

Oh my God.

Tor, she whispered, the words lost in the surf roar of the crowd. She tugged at his hand and turned her eyes away for a moment to get his attention. Tor turned toward her and blanched at her panicked expression.

What’s up, Babe? Tor asked, looking confused.

Look. Up there, by the curtain, Winter gestured with a nod, not wanting to draw attention by outright pointing at that wild man up on the stage.

What? Tor squinted through the lights to the dark stage. Winter shielded her eyes from the glare. He was gone.

There was... a man, Winter mumbled, wishing she never said anything. Never mind.

Probably one of the road crew, Tor smiled down at her, I know, it’s so exciting! It’s getting close! He picked her up and squeezed her tight before setting her back on her feet. Winter decided not to tell him what she thought she saw. It’s not that Tor wouldn’t believe her if she tried to describe it, but he always found a way to explain mysteries away. Tor wasn’t the guy she went to when she swore that she had seen something strange.

For those things, she went to Bren.

Bren was special. He always believed her, no matter how wild her stories, even when she was small. Bren was the exact opposite of Tor in many ways. She and Bren could sit for hours together, and never say a word. It was almost a game with them, to see who could go the longest without saying a thing and the loser would invariably be required to treat the other to ice cream. Winter hated to be the loser and she loved ice cream. Tor would have never considered spending five silent hours with Winter.

Bren always told her never to worry about what others thought of her. He said she was different because she was made special and that only boring people talked all the time because they were afraid of the things people would think in the awkward silences left unfilled. He said those who couldn’t keep their thoughts inside their heads for even one second just ruined it for everyone else. Bren always knew just what to say to make her feel better.

It seemed that Bren, while maybe not possessing a lot of charm, always understood her in ways that no one else could. Sometimes, when she was little, Winter wondered if they were both from the same strange planet. It made more sense somehow, that they were two alien beings trapped in this world. It was nice to be connected to him some way, even if it was just an imaginary one.

One glaring difference between her and Bren was that people did listen when Bren spoke, and actually cared what he had to say. It was probably because he had money--lots of it--and Winter supposed that people cared about whatever he said because of that fact alone. She had always craved his attention, but that was even before she realized he was loaded. Winter needed Bren and that was just a fact.

They weren’t related, but they were family all the same.

There was a time in the not-so-distant past that she may have had a massive crush on him, but she refused to own up to it, and there was no way she could ever tell Tor she felt that way about Bren, ever. It would hurt him to find that he didn’t hold that revered best friend position in her heart and if he knew the rest...well, of course, he would only start in on the evils of Bren again. It wasn’t a fight worth having for the thousandth time.

As if he knew she was thinking of Bren, Tor elbowed her hard in the ribs and mouthed "Be normal! to her with wide and googly eyes for effect, and then louder, with dramatic emphasis, People are starting to stare at you again, Winter. Is it time for your medication?" he said with a wicked smile.

He shuffled closer to her, holding his arms out zombie-style until they found her shoulders and he pulled her into him. You’re such a freak!

So are you, she told him. "And they aren’t staring at me, you moron. Or if they are, it’s because they’re just blinded by my ethereal beauty. Winter made an unladylike face at him. Actually, she said confidently, They’re probably in shock and can’t believe I’m wearing anything that doesn’t contain metal studs as an integral fashion piece." She made a big show out of looking at her outfit, then looking around to prove her point. The piercings of the rest of the concert goers glittered like stars under the bright lights in agreement.

It was true, there were pierced and laced and safety pinned clothes everywhere she turned, even on Tor. He sighed at her and shook his head. It’s a rock concert Win, not high tea.

Winter frowned down at her own clothes. She never dressed like those other girls out there, done up from top to bottom. She despised it. It wasn’t her style. She didn’t wear skinny jeans or anything else that came from Hot Topic. The best she could muster in the spirit of this grand evening was a slightly ripped, ancient Rocky Horror Picture Show tee that Bren gave her a million years ago, and even then her outfit didn’t even come close to the dress code the rest of the crowd adopted, and she was hard-pressed to even find that to wear.

Thankfully, Tor told her she looked beautiful no matter what she wore when she voiced her concerns. He was, at this very moment, ignoring her again in favor of sharing his favorite rock play lists with a pock faced geek boy excitedly gesticulating on his right.

It’s getting really close, Babe, she whispered in her best sultry voice in his ear, hoping to draw his attention back. He didn’t turn, but shuddered, then grabbed her palm and kissed it before doing a little celebration dance in place. Winter giggled.

It was true. It was almost 9:30. People filled in totally behind them now, with very few empty seats remaining. She hadn’t even noticed until just then, but the entire amphitheater was full and the lawn behind them was overflowing with bodies. She stood on her toes to see over the crowd. The lines at the bars and concession stands at the highest points on the steep hill were overly long and Winter shuddered when she thought about how traumatic the line to the ladies bathroom would be, full of drunken lovelies dressed in their finest rocker get-ups. The ultimate goal of most of the girls her age here tonight would be to attract the attention of a band member at best, or another boy at worst.

It was a little sad.

She looked to her boyfriend for confirmation, but Tor had turned his attention back to his new friend and they were talking loudly about all things rock. Winter sighed indulgently at his enthusiasm, even if he was leaving her stranded and bored to tears, and turned around again, satisfying herself with surveying the rippling sea of bodies behind her, unable to help but notice that there miles and miles of differences between her and them.

One thing was obvious: Black was the color of the evening. Yep, definitely black. Even Tor wore head to toe black, covered liberally in silver clothes pins and other things that would never let him get through security at the airport. Winter thought he was possibly taking the theme too far and even told him so when he picked her up, that he looked more like Pinhead from Hellraiser than a teenaged concert goer. Tor had merely rolled his eyes.

Far be it from her to criticize the art of personal expression, he said, for she certainly wasn’t qualified.

Whatever.

Of course, he usually never dressed that way, only on special occasions such as this. Tor was a torn jeans and paint splattered button up kind of guy, but he was also an ‘embrace the theatric side of life’ kind of guy too, so Winter wasn’t surprised that he leapt at the chance to go all out. The black did wonders for his red hair and green eyes without making him look too thin or pale, that was for sure. Tor was a handsome guy, in a nontraditional way. Winter noticed more than one girl this evening watching him and she wasn’t a bit surprised. She smiled at the back of his head fondly and brushed her hand over his mop of hair, causing him to reach up and catch her hand in his own.

Winter drew her hand back and cast a wistful glance at the throng of people behind her. She felt their eyes on her, watching her as she presided over their carnival of insanity that was playing out as an opening act just for her. She committed the raucous image to memory, knowing it would probably be the last time she could truly watch them before the lights went out, then she faced the darkened stage and leaned her head against Tor’s broad back, hearing his deep voice rumble in his chest as he talked on and on.

Chapter Two

Tor was trying to shake his new friend. Winter needed him. If something didn’t happen soon, she looked like she might fall asleep.

Really Win, you’re gonna love ‘em, he told her again, once he was free from that never-ending conversation with the kid beside him. Don’t give up on it yet. He dropped a kiss on the top of her jet-black hair. Just give them a chance, Tor reassured for the millionth time.

It was probably getting old, but he desperately wanted her to have a good time tonight. He kissed her hair again and stroked some of the inky strands back from her slightly sweaty face. It was still hot for late September. Winter just rolled her eyes at him.

So you’ve said.

"Charity said that at their last show, they pulled up a member of the audience when they sang Wasted! Can you believe it? And we’re in the front freakin’ row! That could be us tonight! And it’s their final show of the year. It’s going to be spectacular!" Tor rolled out every syllable of spectacular for her benefit.

He felt like she needed additional confirmation of how much she was underestimating their evening. She just smiled at him vacantly and nodded.

God, what is wrong with her lately? he thought in exasperation. She was always distant, aloof, but that was nothing new, just one of the things he came to love about her over the years. Lately, though, it seemed like she was in a whole other world. It was as if she turned eighteen and tuned completely out of her life, folding in on herself like a flower that closed itself against the night.

As far as he was concerned, he was beyond excited, even if she wasn’t. There probably weren’t enough words in the English language to describe how he felt. Tor had been trying to win these tickets from the radio station all week and yesterday, just in time, he did just that. It was fate, that’s what it was.

When he asked Winter to come, she agreed. Of course, he thought, she didn’t want to tell him no either. They were like that for each other, eager to keep one another happy. She was good at keeping him happy.

So here she was, in the front row of a concert she had no desire to see, listening to a band she cared nothing about, all because she loved him more than she loved anyone else.

Not that there was anyone else.

Tor had some satisfaction in knowing he had always been the only one for her. Winter had her Aunt Ramona, Bren of course (the bane of his existence), and then Tor. No one else had a chance. That’s what he told himself.

He said it aloud this time.

No one else ever had a chance, he chanted his mantra softly. The noise of the surrounding madhouse was enough that she didn’t hear him, which was good.

Tor hoped no one else would ever have a chance either, but when Winter got that faraway look, or disappeared on her weird adventures with Bren, sometimes, he thought that wasn’t exactly the truth.

He wasn’t going to worry about it now: The house lights had gone down.

***

Finally, to the roar of the waiting crowd, the band strolled out onto the stage confidently, theatrically. Comically. It was about damn time.

Disgusting, she thought.

The four band members were all dressed similarly. They wore all black, again with the black, but the styles and materials were different. Each band member’s costume had some sort of identifying characteristic to punctuate the black ensemble, an epaulette or sash, but there wasn’t much in the way of individuality other than that. Winter thought it might be an attempt at unity and a way to separate themselves from one another as well, but on the whole, it was pretty unoriginal, as far as she was concerned.

Seriously, she had seen Coldplay this year and they practically did the same thing. Winter judged each of the band member’s physical appearance just as harshly, thinking none of them had star quality, or were much to look at for that matter.

Is there anything worthwhile about these guys?

Then, the lead singer finally appeared, deigning to grace the stage to a well-timed pyrotechnic fanfare, with his own attire that was reminiscent of Victorian England on acid. He riled the crowd with a sweep of his arms, prowling the stage as he approached the microphone and when he grabbed it, with one long look that she was sure he had practiced in the mirror many times, the crowd went wild, screaming and jumping, Tor included.

The singer’s face filled the big, flat screens on the either side of the stage, and she got a close up shot of him smiling wickedly at the crowd.

He’s awfully confident. Not bad looking either.

He was tall and lean with dark hair, dark eyes, dark everything. His short hair was artfully spiked into some wild creation and his eyes, well, they had to be contacts, to be that precise, glittering black, but he wasn’t the guy she had seen before. She was sure of that.

His face, Winter decided, was handsome, rugged and oddly perfect. His skin was a gorgeous shade of alabaster that she thought had to be European. Irish perhaps?

At least he brought the looks, Winter thought sarcastically. Someone had to. The others were swarthy men whose only appeal might be that they were in a band.

The rock star surveyed his kingdom for the night, and the crowd swelled expectantly beneath his gaze.

"We’re InHuman!" he shouted and the mass of bodies before him exploded in sound and motion. The guitar player, knowing his cue, swung his arm wildly and the instrument screamed to life in his hands. The drums beat a mad tempo behind them both. They reminded Winter of a book she read once about the drums of war that different cultures used to intimidate the people they were attacking. She certainly felt assaulted at the moment.

Lead Hottie, as she decided to call him, kicked in the air in a very Steven Tyler kind of way, before launching into his first song. As he strolled by the guitar player again, a flash of recognition slammed into her.

Hey! Winter shouted, tugging on Tor’s arm. That’s the guy I saw earlier! She pointed to the lead guitarist. Tor bobbed his head to the music and nodded noncommittally. She couldn’t tell if he didn’t believe her or possibly just couldn’t hear her.

Cool! What was he doing? Tor shouted back, obviously catching her meaning. His lips were so close to her ear she could feel his breath. He glanced at the guitarist briefly, and then returned his attention to the main attraction.

Oh, uh nothing, just watching the crowd, I guess. she shouted back.

Sorry I missed him then. Tor said, or something like that. Everything came out jumbled in the noise of the crowd and the blaring music. Winter watched him carefully through narrowed eyes. Tor was barely paying attention to her; he was mesmerized by the show. She watched his eyes as he followed the lead singer’s every movement as the song wound up. Suddenly, she wished she never said anything about it