6
It was a good crowd for a Saturday night. The homey aroma of stale beer and old cigarettes filled the air, along with the stale sweat of the crowd on the dance floor. The floor was a mixture of worn-smooth wood and sticky spots, made tacky by spilled sugary drinks. The walls were plastered with colorful posters of the bands that had played here over the years. New ones covered old ones in an ever-changing montage of rock and roll.
Yeah, this place was home.
Silas looked around at the motley group that filled the bar. He recognized a few faces in the crowd, the bar’s usuals. Excitement shone in their faces for the most part, though some were sunk in depression, fake-laughing to cover up, fighting against whatever sadness ate at them.
And Silas didn't give a s**t about any of the
