The Hush Society Presents..., Izzy Matias [cat reading book .TXT] 📗

didn't you wake me earlier?" I demand.

"Too busy getting golden footage of you," Benji says and shows a snapshot of me drooling.

I laugh as I stand up and take Cassie’s soft palm in my calloused hand. She squeezes it and leans on me as we walk towards the sea of sound.

"Wonder when and how that happened," Eric insinuates with cheeky humour.

I react with a smug face and Cassie slaps my arm.

The morning dew—long gone—is replaced with hot, sticky air as we wriggle our way past people protecting their beloved spots.

#

We arrive in time for the next act before Marmont comes on stage. The current band is mid-way through their tight set. Ella motions for us as she squeezes in between people. We inch closer to the stage. The closer we are, the stickier it gets. A drizzle of sweat slides down my chest and back. Benji and Eric are a few inches away from us and Eric leads the way until we slither into every festival goer’s coveted spot: the crash barricade. Marmont is in our top list of bands to see, so there’s no other way we want to experience them but at the right spot. We get slitted eyes, glares, and insults from fanatics that must have been standing here since the crack of dawn. Cassie apologises as we pass, but I couldn’t care less. I squeeze her hand tight in anticipation of the best night—if it can top yesterday: playing with my musical idols and getting the gal I’ve been fancying for months.

Our abdomens crash against the barricade and I inhale deep as if to preserve this moment of anticipation, elation, and contentment. Life turns out good if you keep facing your demons and choose bravery over doubt. If I hadn’t taken a chance, I wouldn’t have even met or played with two-fifths of The Gramophones. And now, I’m with a beautiful gal about to watch a Marmont show.

"Who’s playing now?" I ask. After the last twenty-four hours, my brain has turned to stew mixing up set times and bands—all except Marmont’s.

"ELCO. It’s a new band, I’m guessing," Cassie says, checking the app. "Haven’t heard of them before."

"Huh. For someone new to go on before a band as big as Marmont that speaks heaps. They must be amazing," I say. I wonder who ELCO is and how they got so popular to land a coveted festival set time.

The band gets off stage and in come a swarm of techs and tour crew that move swift, like clockwork.

"What about The Honeybee Trees?" I ask. "What time do they go on?"

"We missed their set. It was two hours ago at a different stage."

Benji curses.

"Shh!" Eric slaps him. He tells Benji something in a low tone that I can’t make out, except that it involves my name.

"What is it?" I ask.

Benji shakes his head. "Nothin’."

"You’re a horrible cover-up." I laugh.

"Cameron, it’s really nothing," Eric says, flicking his cigarette.

My eyes follow Benji’s gaze. "He’s gonna find out anyway!"

"Cameron—" Cassie tightens her grip on my waist, but I strain my neck back to see what everyone’s staring at. What don’t they want me to know?

I glimpse at Cassie. She squishes her body against mine and cups my chin, directing me to her gaze. I scan her face, but before I can ask what the matter is, her nose is inches from mine.

I don’t know what distracts me from what could be an intimate moment, but it’s as if an invisible hand twists my head and tells me to look over Cassie’s shoulder. I squint my eyes to look backstage. Is that Lewis? It can’t be…

Before I can take a better look, Cassie’s soft lips brush against my cheek and another tight squeeze in my hand sends me back to where I’m supposed to be.

"Sorry," I say, looking at Cassie. Her cheeks are blotchy.

"You’ve let the poor gal down," Eric teases. "Turning a snog into a peck. You sure he’s into you at all?"

Cassie gives Eric a playful shove.

I squeeze her next to me and say, "I’ll show you," and give them a sight to behold.

Once I let go, Cassie’s cheeks are even redder, especially since Benji records the whole thing on his iPhone. Eric, Benji, Ella and a few other concertgoers holler and whistle.

Cassie punches my stomach and says with a grin, "I wanted to keep it PG-13."

"Every rule has exceptions." I shrug. "I’m not exactly a model citizen."

"That you are not." Cassie laughs.

"Maybe we should come back later?" Benji says. "When Marmont is on." He shifts his weight from one leg to another.

"And lose our spots?" I counter. "I don’t think so."

"Benji’s got a point…we don’t even know who ELCO is," Eric says. "What if they sound horrible?"

"Ella and I could save it for everyone for when you come back later," Cassie offers and Ella nods, grinning. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet.

"You lot are bluffing right?" I ask. "What is it?" There’s got to be something more to this. We’ve already gotten prime spots. There is no way we’re giving them up after the effort of squishing ourselves through the crowd.

But the point is moot; the next act has come on stage, music drowning out their voices. The drummer and guitarists play a fast, hard rock intro. The only one missing is the singer.

In an instant, I decide I like their sound. I shake my head, saying, "We’re staying. They sound good." My mates, including Cassie, protest, but I wave them off. We’re not going to miss this. They could be the next big thing. My music geek is on full-auto mode. I turn sideways and face Benji, Cassie and Eric. "Let’s give this band a shot."

They answer me with mortified looks; their eyes dash—like a flashing light—from me to the stage.

As the first line is being sung, I whip head around and come face-to-face with the singer towering over me.

It’s as if I’m in a time loop—frozen for a couple of seconds.

I zoom in on the pass dangling around his