The Concert

It's early Spring. Mother looks out the kitchen window. Her teenage daughter and friends sing in the basement below. She reminds them to get dressed. Dad will be home any minute, to drive them to a concert. Downstairs, her teenage daughter, Angie, and friends' nest on an old sofa. A band set-up sits at one end of the room. They are agitated and excited, putting on their best rock faces. The show will start shortly. A clock counts the time. Angie is worried, and more withdrawn, with each clock tick. Her friends, Farrah and Lisa, go a little stir crazy. They take up the guitars from the corner. They talk about feminism, improvise band names, and strum as best they can, distracting Angie a bit. They jam, and make something that sounds almost like music. There is a bang upstairs, then muffled shouting, profanity, a smack. A man's voice yells, Mother cries, sounds of struggle. The girls stand frozen, looking at the ceiling. Angie sits frozen. There is a loud crash. Farrah and Lisa cower. The basement door flies open. Angie's dad charges down. He smiles. "Watcha standin' around for, if you wanna' go - you better move." Weighing their options, they follow him out. They ascend, and pass through the kitchen, trying not to see her. With the car engine revving, Angie and her friends exit. They take in the night sky. We follow their gaze. The stars bleed into concert strobes. Their earlier song, now complete, begins to play.