June 14--Concert

Joey counted the beat-- one, two, three, four--and stomped on the pedal to bring his bass drum to the fore. Tabby flew across stage, a flutter of feet sidestepping maniacally.
She launched into Unsettled, Diatribe's newest tune, and fell into her groove.

Tabby blazed through the next several songs, trying hard not to look at front row and center. But try as she might she couldn't resist all night.

He was there, the Dark Man.

The band had first noticed him about six months ago. He was at every show, always in the front row, always center. The Dark Man, as they'd come to call him was tall and muscular. His black hair fell in shaggy waves just below his broad shoulders. His eyes glittered from beneath the shadows of a black gimme cap. He always wore a solid black t-shirt and jeans, black Doc's. He was completely attentive throughout the gigs, his eyes never leaving Tabby.

At first they thought he was just some moony-eyed groupie of Tabby's. But he had never approached her after, or before a show for that matter. Hr vanished with the last note only to appear at the next show.

Tonight the Dark Man looked different to Tabby. Something was amiss, she thought. He is not pleased.