Beating. The music is beating. I can feel it beating against my chest, into my very heart. It’s building, rising, going faster and faster, making everything spin. It’s rising over the top, until it bubbles over.

Pumping. It’s pumping in my head, in my veins, it’s what pumps the blood to my heart.

I’m not leading the music anymore. It’s leading me. I don’t have to look up, it’s leading all of us. We’re in sync, all together. Together with the music.

Suddenly no one is watching. There aren’t a thousand people starring, riding along with us, with the music. At least not to us. It’s just the music. Us, and the music.

We created it, and then it went wild. Our personal Frankenstein.

We’re jumping, we’re soaring, we’re going on and on, and the crowd comes back. It’s roaring, filling my head, feeding off our energy even as it gives us more and more.

Nothing else matters.

And when it ends, it’s just the four of us, standing on stage with our instruments in front of the crowd.

Our ride is over.