Love, Spirits, and Rock and Roll

                This whole mess started a few years ago, when my best friends kicked me out of our band.

                The concert hall where they’re playing is packed; the thick scent of sweat and perfume clouds everything. A girl with hot pink sunglasses bumps into me, and I nearly drop my beer bottle. I open my mouth to tell her to watch it. But the crowd roars as my friends step out onto the stage.

                And, true to the old man’s word, they look different. Seth is standing in front of the microphone, smiling out at the crowd. His hair was a brown so dark it was almost black, but now it is white, a shocking contrast to his skin. His eyes glow an icy blue, and he steps up to the mic, smiling out at the crowd. “Are you guys ready for some killer music?” Even his voice sounds different, the timbre colder and deeper.

                Everyone around me shouts their approval, but it’s as if I’m underwater: Everything is muffled and muted, and I only have eyes for the people that used to be my friends. Emilio is at his usual place in the back, warming up on the drums. But he, too, is changed. His eyes look green, glowing with an unearthly light, and he is dressed in earthy tones, a complete 180 from his usual vibrant, colorful palette. His hair is braided, and I look for the other two.

                The old man’s voice rings like a warning bell in my head: These spirits are wily, and older than time itself, including the ones that you hold inside of you. Be on your guard, son, or it won’t just be your friends you’ll lose in the bargain.

                And still, I can feel them moving inside of me, restless and furious at being locked away inside of my body.

                But hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.

                I don’t see the other two, and that’s when I start really worrying. If my hunch is correct, the spirits of Winter and Summer have taken Seth and Emilio. But what of Autumn and Spring? Where are they, and where have they taken my former friends?

                Because it’s the evening, the spirit of the Night has awakened, and it bares its sparkling teeth, made of bright stars.

                Its hiss is seductive music that I can barely resist. Foolish human boy. Who are you to attempt controlling the night? I was here before your kind so much as opened your eyes and took your first breaths.

                I ignore it, resisting the urge to punch the wall in frustration. This had all been complicated enough before the otherworldly forces came into play. Everyone in the concert hall is absorbed in the music, barely noticing as I shove through the crowd, closer to the stage.

                Soon your friends will be mere vessels for the seasons. You will not emerge victorious from this battle.

                It’s all I can do not to scream at the stupid spirit to shut up, be quiet so I can actually think.

                And then I see Seth, crumpling like a wilted flower behind the mic.

                **