A Lonely Star in the Night Sky

Song playing: The Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic! at the Disco


Sitting in the corner of the bar, she was invisible; the ghost, as many liked to call her. It was how she liked it, alone with no-one to bother her will small talk and awkwardness. No-one to annoy her with unoriginal line. Yet she found herself waiting - waiting for him to arrive. He was the opposite of her. He was alive.

He was late today. Normally that wouldn't bother her, but she had a task to complete and unfortunately, she needed him. He didn't need to know that part though. She checked all the times around her: the wall, the phone, the wrist - all the same. What was taking him so long? Time was clearly not on her side today.

Finally, after minutes passing of her deciding upon her next move, the familiar creak of the door was heard. As much as she disliked it, he made her feel something- passionate, alive, though she could never speak to him. As a result, people call her intimidating, a bitch, a snob. In fact she is none of those, she just finds it hard to speak to people - anxiety, fear of rejection play heavily upon her.

Instead she prefers to be alone, sitting at a table listening to his voice. His voice gave her all the power she needed. The ability to put pen to paper and create. He maybe an entertainer to the crowd but to her, to her he was her muse. Across the months she has had many muses, but they wilt rather quickly. Would he dry up in the desert sun, or will he set her mind alight?

Muse, Music, Magic

Writing does not come easy to me. Many a time it's random thoughts put together, hoping that they make sense. For me, writing is more of a catharsis than a profession; the thoughts occupying the mind need to be released before insanity is formed. Sometimes words blend together, others not so much.   Sitting here, in the bar, in my not so usual spot, it came to me that my motivation for writing has returned.I had finally found the reason for my influx of writing, a kind of muse; the music, the magic of rhythm. Feeling the vibration of the Bass, Guitar and Drum run through my body, I can feel it fill with contentedness. It has taken a long time for this to happen, as I have been much too stubborn. I didn't want to tarnish my memories of my last muse, yet being in this room listening to the new ensemble, I realised how petty I was being. A new riddle had to be unraveled.
Now I am not a musician, or a professional critic, but I do listen to my heart, the way my body responds to the sounds produced on stage - produced by a beautiful group that couldn't fit more perfectly together if they had tried. They blend so wholly that it's almost magical.
Hearing such hypnotizing and alluring resonance, shivers are constantly sent down my spine. Looking around the room, I can tell I am not the only one captivated by the scene; fingers are tapping and bodies are swaying to the rhythm. It's like you have been trapped by their music. Time passes by so quickly, you barely realise it. You are too busy enjoying the moment, the atmosphere, their presence.

Who are they? With a name that matches their persona its too perfect to change - 'Fire'. Yet why does it match them so? Just like the growth of a fire, the beginning of their set is the start, the ignition -  the slow burn into the atmosphere. But as the night progresses, the lit fuse intensifies and merges into a glorious flame of sounds and passion.
As a group they present a showstopping experience every time they are placed into the spotlight.  Each night is never the same, never a repeat - which is great as it doesn't allow me to predict correct the upcoming track on their playlist.

Without such pleasure to my being, I would not be writing, but a thank you would not be enough. I wish to write a review of such about this band, but it would not simply do it justice. Until I feel like my words truly describe the band, I shall simply write until it's perfect.

And with that I bid goodnight.