Fall Out Boy Monologue

Without warning, the house lights had almost immediately gone down and there was an electricity of excitement completely consuming the anticipating crowd, some whom had waited hours standing in a line, which wrapped around the entire city block, just for this moment. In one illuminating flash and a deep, chest-grabbing thud of a pedal hitting the bass of a drum set, an eruption of what could only be described as one voice chanting from thousands of mouths, of lyrics ingrained into their heads, echoing against the large concrete walls of the Philadelphia arena.

Fall Out Boy, a rock band out of Chicago, had reunited from a four year hiatus after collaborating on their fifth studio album, Save Rock and Roll. Fans from all over the country flocked

There was an occurrence called the Surge; during which, people in the back of the mob on the floor would push the people in front of them to get closer to the stage, even if they were already a good twenty feet away and definitely not getting any closer by pushing. The Surge became a domino effect, by each person pushing on the person in front of them and everyone closing the gaps between each other; they became sardines in a can. The closer you were to the front, the easier it was for you to lift your feet of the ground and just be carried by the force of people around you. The concert hadn’t even started, the stars of the show hadn’t even made it on stage yet, and you would wish it was over. Water would be thrown into the crowd, only adding to the pool of sweat collecting among the new friends you would have to make. Each guitar tune, drum hit, or light check instigated chaos on the general admission floor. People who had waited all day in the hot sun, who had claimed their rightful spot in the front, would have to be lifted out by security either because they had passed out in the crowd from lack of water, the overwhelming heat, or the claustrophobia began setting in and people were now stepping around and even on them, or they were getting hurt from being pressed against the railings separating the band from mass hysteria. When the peak of exhaustion from standing through four to six hours of waiting in line outside, plus another three to four spent inside waiting for the main act to perform, finally hits you, the lights really do go down and the curtain is finally pulled back, for real this time and not to check how many people were on the other side of it. At that exact moment, the pushing and shoving, and the pain and sweatiness, didn’t matter anymore, because this is what we had gathered