A Night Like Tonight

(300 word feature for my final assignment)
By Tess Haadsma

It’s seven-o-clock on a Wednesday night in downtown Chicago. While most high-schoolers are at home cramming for midterms, Danielle Shouldice is shivering cold outside, waiting for the doors to the Rivera Theatre to open.
She lives for nights like the one she has ahead of her tonight.
She lives for that moment when the band comes out on stage, and the crowd goes wild with shrieking and cheers.
She lives for the adrenaline rush of being caught in the middle of a mosh pit on the floor.
She lives for the smell that most people find revolting; the smell of so many sweating bodies rubbing against each other, the smell of their mixing perfumes and colognes.
She lives for the pulsation of the base–line through her body.
She lives for the thrill of being handed over hundreds of people’s heads to the front of the stage, and then brought safely back to the ground by the burly security guard.
She lives for the minutes in-between bands where she’ll say hello and share up a conversation with the fellow concert goers.
She lives for the moment when the band leaves the stage and the crowd goes wild, always eventually coaxing them back out for an encore.
She lives for the after-show events; the meet and greet of the band members, the sharing of a drink with a random boy she met.
She lives for the feeling that stays in her system, even after the concert ends. A kind of high, almost.
Danielle lives for all of this, every single piece of it.
So as she stands outside in minus-five degree weather, shivering cold, she thinks of what’s in store for her tonight and knows it’ll be worth the freezing cold wait.
Because, after all, she lives for nights like tonight.