So long Stan

Standing against a wall, careful not to let her brown suede coat touch the grimy surface, nearby the throbbing mass of black-clad moshers, Anne Marie watched indifferent. Her boyfriend Stan screamed lyrics on stage, the bassist beating out a body pelting rhythm. It was fun at first, two extreme worlds colliding in an explosion of sexual and social taboo. They defied the naysayers and laughed in the faces of the disbelieving. But as with all adrenaline-fueled acts of rebellion, the thrill was gone. This wasn’t her world and it was time for Anne Marie to go. She’d leave in the morning.