"Definitely go with option number one," my best friend, Gypsy, gives her opinion as I hold up my two outfit choices.

"Really? Not the dress?" I scrunch up my nose at the outfit she chose for me. A simple pair of my favorite ripped denim jeans and a white crop top with some leather boots and a matching leather jacket.

Chuckling at my reaction, she removes the laptop from in front of her and walks over to me, "Let's think about this, Lyla," she grabs the dress and holds it in front of me as we stare into the long mirror in front of us, "you're going to a concert alone and you have a pit ticket at that. There will be lots of people in close proximity including disgustingly perverted men. A short black dress with leather detailing? Really?"

"Hm," I tilt my head from side to side, "you have a good point."

"I always do," she kisses my cheek and smacks my ass before going back to messing around on the internet.

Sighing out loudly, I lay the dress across the bed and sit down at the edge, "Are you sure you don't want to come with me? The girl I got my ticket from said she had one more."

The batting of my lashes and my bottom lip jutted out slightly does absolutely nothing to persuade her as she shakes her head slowly, her curly hair bouncing with the movement.

"No, thank you. Rock music is not my thing, you know that."

Rolling my eyes, I pull the large shirt I had slipped on after my shower away from my head and slip on the white crop top instead so that I can continue getting ready for the concert tonight.

Gypsy wasn't into rock music or anything other than EDM, to be honest. When we first became friends in tenth grade, it was originally for two reasons. One, she was the new girl in town and was having trouble making friends, and two, we both had names that were out of the norm, sticking out against the sea of Jessicas and Emilys in our classes.

Really other than that, we haven't had much in common. She grew up with a wealthy family while I struggled my entire life. I love all kinds of music while she prefers only songs that personally give me a headache. She likes preppy guys that already have an interest in investing their money while I tend to go for something a little less ivy league.

But somehow, we always made it work with our opposites attracting. I never really cared that she was so different and neither did she. At the end of the day, we were always there for each other and supported each other in whatever ways we needed.

Thus the reason why I've been living at her place. Knowing I didn't have anywhere else to go after my mother's passing, she opened up her apartment to me and even though she argued with me until she was blue in the face, stating it wasn't necessary since her father pays her rent, I convinced her to at least let me pay a small part while I was here.

"Should I expect you home tomorrow night or do you plan on staying the entire weekend?" She questions as she fixes her ponytail, the blue light from her computer casting onto her beautiful face.

Since the concert is in the city, I decided to at least stay the night. Gypsy offered to drive me up there but I didn't want to be an inconvenience and take time away from her night off of school. So instead, I'll just be taking the train to and from the city. Plus, if I'm being totally honest, Gypsy's driving scares the hell out of me.

With a suitcase packed with too many items for a weekend trip, just on the off chance that I may need them, and my hair blow-dried and styled to the best of my abilities, Gypsy grabs her car keys and waits for me by the front door so that she can take me down to the train station on this Saturday afternoon in October.

The crisp fall air tickles my skin as the light breeze tousles my hair. It's one of those moments that just feels like it'll be a good day like good vibes are abundant and magic is in my soul. I had been waiting a couple of years now to be able to see my favorite band in concert and while I may have imagined going with a friend, the fact that I'm only hours away from hearing them play live is enough to make life feel anew.

I first fell in love with their music when my mother was only days from passing away. Sitting in the hospital room with her, I was browsing the internet with headphones plugged in while she slept through another round of a high dose of morphine. Letting the world wide web take me down a rabbit hole, I let it tell me what I should listen to next.

Now, I'd be a total liar if I said the enchanting rasp of the lead singer, the piercing gaze of the bass player, and the pure sex radiating from the lead guitarist didn't grab my attention but it was the lyrics that truly pulled me in.

See, some music is purely for entertainment purposes and that's totally fine. Some days, that kind of music is what I yearn for to give me a sensory overload while I dance around Gypsy's apartment, making pancakes or doing housework. But rock and roll has a way of either speaking into your spirit or telling the world to fuck off, depending on the particular song.

The one that played that day on the small thirteen-inch screen of my laptop spoke to my spirit. As I was sitting there just moments before wondering how I'll be able to move on with life after my mother's predetermined passing, the lyrics that day told me to keep pushing past the pain for there will be better days after every storm.

From that moment on, I found myself streaming every song they had ever made and looking into more information on not only the bandmates but their production style, how they learned their instruments, the fact they know how to play more instruments than the ones they're known for on stage, and much, much more. And even though all of that information was readily available, there's no doubt in my mind that there's more to these handsome men than they let the public know.

As they should.

I wouldn't say I'm a super fan by any means. There are plenty of women around their mid-twenties, just like myself, who are a bit overzealous to put it gently. I've seen clips of their adoring fans throwing themselves at the guys, quite literally, and with rock and roll being what it is, I expected no less when I saw the band flirting shamelessly back; giving them what they were asking for.

It was what they did. Especially the lead singer. He tends to feed the crowd with their desires more than the other two would, although, they weren't saints themselves.

I found it comical, personally. The way these girls were able to get swept off of their feet by a simple wink or a kiss on the cheek, turning into pure putty in these men's hands. Not realizing that they were simply the band's entertainment for the night as well, whether that ever ended up in a hook-up or not.

Still, I can't judge them for taking the chance. In fact, I envy them for willing to take such risks as I find myself having a hard time letting loose and that seriously needs to change. All I do is work and go home. No fun, no adventure, no regrets; and what's life without regrets? Can I even call what I'm doing living or am I just simply stuck in the never-ending motions of survival?

Handing over my purchased train ticket, I wave goodbye to Gypsy just before I step onto the train and avert my eyes away from the curious gazes of those already boarded as I make my way to my seat. It's only a forty-five-minute train ride to the city so I pop in my headphones and play Dirty Deeds' newest album as I get lost within the opening riff.

***

"Hey," I feel someone nudging my arm, "miss? This is your stop, isn't it?"

Opening my eyes, I glance down at my ticket being handed back to me. The elderly man smiles down at me as I take it from his wrinkled fingers and thank him for keeping me from missing my stop. I didn't think I'd fall asleep on such a short trip but it's not like I got much sleep last night with all of the excitement flowing through me.

Hopping off of the train, I pull my cellphone out of my pocket and order an Uber to the motel I reserved just a couple of blocks from the concert hall. Although still holding at least six thousand people, the venue will be a much more intimate setting and will allow me to hopefully get upfront. Who knows when I'll get the chance to see them again and if I'm going to be going all alone, I at least want to make it a memorable and enjoyable experience.

The Uber was surprisingly less than two minutes away. I guess in the city there are more readily available rides than in my small town where typically Ubers are only picking up and dropping off drunks from our local bar. Hopping in the back seat with my suitcase placed in the seat beside me, I awkwardly smile at the man driving in hopes that he won't be a creep.

I haven't been to the city very often in my life but from the stories I have heard, I know the more population, the more problems. But there's also much more opportunity.

And as I stare out of the window on the way to my intended destination, a bright smile takes over my features as I can just feel something about to change in my life. I have no clue what that change is but I'm not running from this feeling anymore. Maybe it's just the sheer fact that I am on an adventure right now, even if it is small, and doing something out of the norm for me. Embarking on a journey to relish in the music and get lost in the sound that will be reverberating through the concert hall speakers, surrounding myself with people who enjoy the same thing I do, and making the world seem a bit smaller for a moment in time as my worries fade away for at least two hours.

Thanking the Uber driver, I walk into the motel's office and collect my room key after signing paperwork and proving that I am over twenty-one years of age. I remember when being asked for my identification used to bother me but once I turned twenty-three, it didn't seem to hold as much weight anymore. In fact, I found it more of a compliment than anything that some people assumed I wasn't of legal age.

Popping open the motel door, I roll my suitcase next to the dresser and plop down on the bed. Pulling out my phone, I text Gypsy to let her know that I made it.

Hey, I'm here in one piece.

Gypsy:
Have SO much fun
tonight but be careful.
I'm just a phone call away
if you need me.

I'm proud of you
for doing something
for you for a change.

Thank you!

I'll text you tomorrow
and let you know
if I'm heading home
or staying another night.

Gypsy:
Xoxo

Shutting my phone off, I grab my toiletry case and head to the bathroom to freshen up my hair and makeup before needing to head to the show. I want to get there early enough in hopes I can get a decent enough spot that's closer to the stage.

With my face powdered, lipgloss touched up, and my hair combed out again, I spray on some perfume and take a deep breath to try to wipe away the plastered smile from my face.

Tonight is going to be a good night, I just know it!