Under the Stars and Stripes (Under Him)

Returning to Ashe’s apartment, we got ready for coming events.

“The shirt is a good start,” she said, after we’d eaten and showered, our hair tied back into damp ponytails, “but there is still more work to do.”

After pulled me into her room, Ashe rebuilt my look from the ground up. Skintight black jeans, the Loki’s Laugh shirt, a pair of her old Chuck Taylors, and battered but authentic leather jacket.

Once the clothes were covered, Ashe sat me down at her vanity and prepped her tools. I’d never really worn make-up before and had no idea how to apply it. Ashe had no such limitations, though.

The final look wasn’t as striking as what I’d seen on Ana, but I certainly felt different, and better in a lot of ways. I couldn’t have done it myself but there was no arguing with the results.

There was a line up around the block and then some. Good thing the show was assigned seating or not everyone was going to get in. I had no idea Loki’s Laugh was so popular, but it didn’t come as a surprise.

“This way,” Ashe said, pulling on my hand as I went to get in line.

I didn’t know what was happening but went along with it anyway. A free movement of spirit brought us to the stage door, and Ashe knocked on it.

“Yes,” asked an officious looking gent, with a clipboard and headset.

“Ashe Jones and Becca Hall; we are expected,” Ashe announced.

Turning away as though that would prevent us from hearing, the guy spoke hurriedly into the microphone attached to his headset.

“Come right in,” he said, holding the door open for us.

It was like magic. I’d seen something similar in a movie once, but was still awed to see it applied in real life. Ashe was properly important. Her fame was something I’d always figured would come, but not before either of us was at least 25.

“Hey, you,” Varg said, as he and Ashe embraced.

His accent was light but there. It was Norwegian at a guess, or maybe Swedish. I couldn’t always tell the difference, and made a note not to assume, lest I ended up putting my foot in my mouth. Social interaction was never really my strong suit.

“This is my friend Becca,” Ashe told him.

“Becca,” Varg repeated, giving me a firm, friendly handshake, “nice to meet you. Welcome.”

“Hi,” I managed to say, trying not to gush.

“This is—”

“Stig and Ragnar,” I blurted out.

“Very good,” Varg laughed. “Most people still call us ‘the scary one’ and ‘the rhythm section.’”

My face felt like it was on fire, but I was glad he’d taken my little faux pas with good humor.

“Who’s the opener?” Ashe asked, giving me an out.

“AB+,” Ragnar said.

“And who’s fault is that?” Stig asked.

“I wouldn’t say ‘fault’ so much a ‘doing.’ They’re good guys, really,” Varg intervened, trying to be the voice of reason.

“I suppose,” Stig conceded.

“Type O Negative cover band from Jersey,” Ashe explained.

I wasn’t sure what most of those words meant but was soon enlightened when the opening band started playing. It wasn’t as refined as Loki’s Laugh, but it was still nothing to sneeze at.

They actually reminded me a of Wagner in a lot of ways. Particularly the prominent basslines. I made a mental note to look up Type O Negative when I had the chance.

AB+ finished their set and then it was time for Loki’s Laugh to take the stage. The reaction from the crowd was electric. Thousands of people were all reacting as one voice and only ceasing their wave of enthralled adulation when the band started to play.

Ashe and I hung out in the wings, witnessing the magic as close as anyone could get without being on the stage themselves.

Time seemed to stop, all points in the universe coming to a single point, no past or future, only the present. What was happening right then.

“That was amazing,” Ashe shouted over the crowd noise.

Snapping back to my senses, I saw it as the guys bid adieu to the throng. Varg and Stig were hurling their custom-made wooden picks as a souvenir. Ragnar did the same with each of his sticks, quickly signing them with a Sharpie before he did so.

“Better than smashing their instruments,” Ashe observed.

I couldn’t help but agree. I’d heard stories of the destruction wrought by the finale of some shows.

The way the Loki’s Laugh guys did it made a connection with the fans, while also not drastically increasing the tour costs. The fact that Ragnar’s wife, Stephanie, was also their tour manager likely had something to do with it.

Ashe launched herself into Varg’s arms, the two of them kissing like the world was ending around them.

“So, we’ll see you there?” Stig asked, as Varg carried Ashe into the green room.

She gave a thumbs up, seconds before the door closed and locked behind them.