I started this last night but wasn’t quite sure where I was going to go with it, so I’ll stick it up here as a fragment – and if inspiration wanders back I’ll develop it further:
The band played on. That was what stuck with him as a memory later. In the middle of all the unfurling chaos; the explosions and sparks, the screams and shouts; the band played on. Their clothing was pristine and uniform. Their hair gelled and teased to coiffed perfection, they looked like they had stepped off an album cover, or a promotional photoshoot.
Even when a seven foot biker was bodily tossed at the stage, the lead singer merely swayed his upper torso a lazy few inches out of the way. He didn’t break a sweat, the beat, or his rhythm. The drummer broke the biker’s neck instead as he tried to clamber back upright on the drumset.
