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The Center Stage-Personal Narrative

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It was a dusky, cold evening in early December. The sky looked almost as if it might snow that night because the sky was a charcoal gray, not a dark black. The lights and buildings sprinkled the sky, like tiny little stars. The Center Stage’s sign shone a bright green light that created a cast over everyone who was waiting to get into the venue. Despite it being extremely cold outside, everyone was just chatting away and laughter was heard from everywhere; it sounded like a nest of honey bees. The air was sharp and chilly, but was filled with the scents of alcohol and cigarette smoke. The group of people were waiting to see the band, Catfish and the Bottle men. All of the people here were fairly young and dressed like hipsters. My group of …show more content…

The atmosphere was dark, but you could feel the energy building up. All the people there to see the band were standing around and waiting for the band to come out. Everyone was feeding off of the energy from their neighbor; one could feel the anticipation and excitement. The lights were down very low, almost pitch black, but you could still see about five feet in front of you. Suddenly, the lights that were placed above the stage came on and they started to move around rapidly and blink extremely fast. They were dark green, turquoise, and, magenta. A faint rumbling noise escaped from a snare drum and the lights shut off to black again. The buzzing drum kept getting louder and the lights slowly came back on. A golden light, which almost looked like sunshine, was bolting from the back drop; in front of it stood five silhouettes. The outlines were a dark, charcoal gray, but they faded at the sides with the rays of golden light that poured out from behind them. The crowd began to chant, clap their hands, and, stomp their feet. The noise making sounded like an Indian …show more content…

The sky now was no longer a dark gray, but a tar, soot black. The bright, star-like lights were now turned off in the majority of the office buildings and other business. The group that I came to the concert with was all meeting up outside of the venue, but I arrived before everyone else at meeting place, which was under the tree. To occupy the time, I got on my phone and replied to the text messages that I missed. Suddenly, there was a light tap on my left shoulder and I heard the familiar deep, Scottish voice. “Hi, I was wondering if you would like to come with my friends and I to get some pizza at the restaurant across the street?” I stood there, glaring at him, like a deer I head lights. “I’m very sorry, but I rode here with some friends and I have to ride back home with them.” An expression of disappointment spread across his bearded, pale face. He took my social media information and proceeded to go with his friends. I could still smell his cologne and camel cigarette smoke while I was riding through the bright, shiny city that

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