Feeling the rhythm racing wildly through his veins, feeling the drumbeats hammering his eardrums, feeling the restlessness leaping in his feet, feeling the heat dancing wildly on his skin, feeling the emotions tumbling in his mind… every single oxygen molecule in the bar seemed to have gone mad, writhing and swirling under the pull of the powerful notes on stage, a riot of dragons and snakes, a blaze of colors, fire trees and silver flowers.
Everyone in Al's Bar was the same, plunged into an indescribable realm, relying only on themselves to follow the music and savor every moment of madness. This was the true carnival of music lovers, like those large-scale rock festivals where all the rock fanatics gather together, enjoying top-level professional performances, unleashing the energy within their bodies, allowing themselves to climb peak after peak along with the rhythm of the music.
Hugo repeatedly felt as if he were suffocating, not only because the air inside the bar had almost boiled away all the oxygen, but also because his heart pounded in his chest, squeezing every bit of oxygen, making his breathing rapid. Yet Hugo still did not want to leave, because this was the world that belonged solely to him.
One band after another performed, each averaging fifteen minutes. By the time all the bands had finished, it was already 10:30 PM. In fact, Rock Night at Al's Bar was like a small rock festival, a slightly smaller scale, with guest fame limited to the West Coast underground rock scene, but it did not diminish the beauty of the night in the slightest. The performances ended at half-past ten mainly to leave the remaining time for all enthusiasts and performers to interact freely—one bottle of beer or a glass of whiskey in the bar, and one could enjoy countless moments of joy.
Although bar owner Green was present, getting close to tonight's performing guests was not an easy task. Around Green Day, at least thirty people were gathered, impossible to squeeze through. By comparison, the crowd around the Cranberries was smaller, but a dozen people was still a force to be reckoned with. After weighing the situation, Hugo decided to first approach the Cranberries.
Hugo held his guitar, clutching the marker he had just borrowed from Green, standing outside the small circle, both excited and nervous, waiting for his opportunity. Hugo's expectant appearance caught the interest of the others nearby. Pedro was fine—he did not know that Hugo was an actor, only curious why Hugo was so excited. But Green and Neil clearly knew that Hugo was the recently rising actor, who not long ago had been promoting films on various TV programs. Yet now he looked like an ordinary little fan, nervously awaiting a meeting with his idol.
"Hugo, are you sure you want an autograph?" Neil looked at Hugo in full confusion. He could understand Hugo's love for the band but could not comprehend the act of asking for an autograph.
"Of course!" Hugo did not even turn his head, still looking expectantly at the Cranberries' lead singer Dolores. Dolores was not the kind of stunning beauty that takes your breath away, but her petite and adorable figure possessed a surprisingly powerful, soaring voice. Her doll-like face with large eyes had a smoky, ethereal charm, complemented by a short haircut less than an inch long, exuding coolness.
It was only at this moment that Hugo confirmed his guess with his eyes—he was standing in front of the Cranberries, in front of Dolores herself. The feeling was simply exquisite. Although Hugo had been telling himself not to freak out every time he saw a "star," and over the past year this had been effective—at least during the A Few Good Men crew he had not embarrassed himself—at this moment, seeing the band he had loved throughout ten years of his rock music life, Hugo could not completely restrain himself.
Seeing Hugo like this, Green could not help but laugh, "I thought you might also think that autographs actually hold no value, because it's just an ordinary person writing their name on a piece of paper. The so-called 'autograph,' aside from a check, all other meanings are imagined by others, aren't they?"
"Of course, that's exactly what I think. Autographs are one of the dumbest souvenirs in the world," Hugo replied decisively, leaving the three beside him stunned. Pedro could not resist and was the first to laugh, "Think about it, many times, artists just sign their names on a piece of paper, which might later be thrown away or signed somewhere meaningless. Compared to a hug or a photo, those unreadable autographs are essentially worthless."
"And yet you came here full of anticipation asking for one." Pedro mercilessly mocked, laughing uncontrollably. For the first time, he found Hugo so amusing, even more than when he had just seen Hugo's belt snap.
Hugo shrugged, "This is our life's trajectory, isn't it? Maybe ten, twenty years from now, when we look at these silly autographs, we will laugh with friends, family, and descendants about all the foolish things we did to get them. This is a record of our lives. I plan to collect autographs on this guitar and try to gather signatures from all the bands I like. Years later, maybe I will be a lawyer or an accountant, sitting in my office, and looking at this guitar will remind me of these years."
Life never has absolute right or wrong. Autographs are like tattoos. Many impulsively leave a lover's name on their body when love is passionate, but when love fades or ends unhappily, the pain the tattoo brings is unforgettable. Yet when time passes, recalling these moments, one realizes how much wandering and ups and downs life has traveled.
Perhaps tattoos will one day be erased, and autographs certainly cannot last forever. The once cherished idol signatures and lover's tattoos, years later, are just names, but these "names" no longer represent the person—they represent the memory.
Hugo's casually spoken words were somehow amusing, the first reaction being to mock: lawyer or accountant? Totally mismatched, yet strangely touching.
"Then why don't you ask me for an autograph?" Pedro blurted out.
Hugo looked Pedro up and down with a scrutinizing gaze, making Pedro somewhat uncomfortable. Fortunately, Hugo did not continue, soon saying, "Perform for me, conquer me, and then I will ask you for an autograph." As soon as he said this, Green and Neil chuckled, and Pedro looked completely defeated.
Today it was Hugo who had conquered them. As for their skills, at least for now, they were not enough to make Hugo admire them.
At this moment, Hugo saw his opportunity and immediately stepped forward, saying to Dolores, "Hey, Dolores, I really, really love you all. 'Dreams,' 'Linger,' are all my favorites."
Experts could distinguish immediately with just a sentence, and it was obvious that Hugo was very familiar with the Cranberries. Although he spoke a lot, Dolores' eyes immediately lit up, "It's wonderful that you like us. How did you think of our performance tonight?"
"The first song showed that you were a bit nervous, especially in the first half. That wasn't quite the level you should have. But trust me, you were excellent—sticking to yourself is what matters most." Hugo did not blindly flatter her; he offered his opinion, and Dolores' smile immediately blossomed.
In fact, Dolores' singing method was extremely unique, even within the underground rock scene, making her the only one of her kind. This put immense pressure on her, worrying that her singing might not be accepted by the audience, potentially affecting the band's development. So even though she did not know Hugo, receiving recognition from a fan who genuinely loved their music was incredibly meaningful.
"Oh! Thank you, thank you. You have no idea what what you just said means to me." Dolores' lips curved into a shallow smile, complementing her round, apple-like face with a hint of sweetness. Dolores was not a singer who smiled much in public; she usually maintained a calm, understated, and even cold demeanor inconsistent with her appearance. Today, however, she smiled, revealing her heightened inner emotions.
"May I ask you for an autograph? Just sign it on this guitar." Hugo quickly handed over the marker and lifted his guitar, eyes full of anticipation as he looked at Dolores.
Dolores looked at Hugo with some surprise. Most people tonight were industry insiders, focused on communication rather than asking for autographs, which was rare. But seeing Hugo's radiant smile, she nodded, "No problem." She then took the pen and signed the first name on Hugo's guitar body.
The same scene occurred later when Hugo interacted with Green Day's lead singer, Billie Joe. He clearly did not understand Hugo's request for an autograph at first. The young, spirited kid's first words were, "****, what the hell autograph, I'm not his mom Kurt Cobain." Hugo burst into laughter, but in the end, Billie Joe still signed Hugo's guitar, making this Rock Night complete for Hugo.
Hugo then exchanged words with several other performing bands. Naturally, many people recognized Hugo and came forward to discuss guitars or Kill Your Heroes. Such joyful moments quietly slipped through his fingers. By the time Hugo realized it, it was already 11:15 PM.
Neil and Pedro intended to leave, as the main performances were over, and the rest of the night was for drinking and revelry. Knowing their limits, they naturally had no reason to stay.
"Please make sure my car takes you home." Green smiled warmly, "As the host tonight, I wanted to provide some convenience. Unfortunately, beyond music, I am powerless. So please, don't let me miss this chance."
"Music surpasses everything, doesn't it?" Hugo's words made everyone laugh.
"Calling a taxi at this hour isn't convenient, so let my car serve a purpose." In Los Angeles, taxis were not easily hailed on the street—you had to call a company to reserve one, so Green's help was perfectly timely.
Hugo looked at Neil and Pedro, and they exchanged smiles. "Why not? This way, I don't have to worry about these lousy jeans constantly falling down."
....
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