MIKO
My whole body is thrumming. Blood boiling as I feel the aliveness, the bass, and the jumps of thousands of ravens waiting for me.
Chanting.
MARS UNITE! MARS UNITE! MARS UNITE!
I am opening the show tonight.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes as I feel the stage start to lift me upwards to the main centre, and I pop my neck, ready to rock.
The square platform I am standing on has red LED fixtures, lighting me up from beneath, and I look up; the whole stadium is dark, but I do see the flashlights of phones and cameras all pointing at me.
Watching me.
My Paul Reed Smith guitar is strapped on my body, fingers ready, and with an exhale, I strum just once, and the whole stadium comes alive.
All I see is red.
I hold my baby as I start on my opening riff, fingers going fast, as I play her, eyes closed, letting the music, the tune get me home. A low growl, followed by a heavy, deep bass that washes my whole body, starts playing in the background.
