Connected (Connections, #1)
by Kim Karr
About the Author
I want my readers to understand that music means a great deal to me. In this book, I have used many songs to convey character feelings and emotions in each and every chapter. So much so, that each chapter title is a song. I spent many hours searching for songs that signify the narrative of each chapter and I hope that listening to the songs before you read each chapter will only help to enhance your reading experience. Go to my website www.authorkimkarr.com for song links to Spotify. And unfortunately, without permission from the artists I cannot include the actual lyrics in the narrative. What you see is a revised version to better fit the feelings and emotions of the chapter, not the actual lyrics. The exception to this is the use of a Maroon 5 song lyric for which I was granted permission to use.
I have visited this place many times, but today it’s different. I’m alone. There are no comforting arms around me. My body trembles. Not from the cold, but from the realization of fate. A single tear slowly drips down my face as I look into the night and scream, “Why couldn’t we just stay together?!”
As the wind moans in the distance, thunder crashes and lightning strikes. I stand here just hoping the impeding storm will carry me away and erase the shadow that looms over me. A slow soothing rain falls from the blackened sky, but it provides no relief to my ravaged soul. A mist slowly rises into the night, puddles form in various spots, and the cold air sends shivers down my spine. The dark, the storm—they are both upon me.
I’m a lone figure and I huddle to the ground feeling completely lost. As my tears merge with the rain into one slow dance, they only fall further into the darkness. No one is here to see me. No one knows where to find me. Only the vultures notice me as they fly swiftly overhead, seeking shelter against the cold rain. I’m not looking for refuge in this place I now despise, but I have nowhere else to go. I have no hope. I have no future. This is where I belong—in the darkness.
CRAZY
Every time we were there we had fun
There was something special about the place
Sights and sounds echoed throughout the space
And when we’re there we never had a care
We were having the time of our lives.
August 1999…
Every sight and every sound told me this was the best place on earth. The arena was a buzz of activity: music roared through the speakers, electricity filled the air, and nameless people were rushing to find their seats. My father and I stopped quickly to purchase our concert t-shirts. Clutching our tickets tightly, we made our way through the crowd.
The excitement around us was immeasurable, almost indescribable. We sat down, mesmerized by what was before us. Looking at the stage, it was impossible to take everything in. Being so close was intoxicating. I was frozen with shock, and my eyes flickered through the rays of the spotlights as they made their way up the stairs.
Bono encouraged thousands of waving hands and nodding heads. Eventually, I gathered my senses and began to absorb my surroundings just as U2 began to play Beautiful Day. Slipping into an almost hypnotic state, I closed my eyes and swayed to the pulse of the beat as the vibrations penetrated my whole body. I stayed this way throughout most of the concert, just as I had so many times before.
Going to Greek Theatre, or The Greek as otherwise known, was an experience like no other. It was the largest indoor arena, and people of all kinds walked around to experience the ambiance. Famous people, unknown bands, known singers, groupies, and concertgoers came from miles around. They all loved it there, and so did I. I used to notice how all of the visitors’ shirts meshed together like a finely woven blanket with different colors of yarn. Everyone came from different places, but they all were there for the same reason: to listen to the best music ever played.
My father was the general manager of The Greek. He loved music, mostly rock, eighties, and nineties. My dad had been going to concerts since he was thirteen and always bought a t-shirt. So to say he had a few concert t-shirts was putting it mildly. He started working at The Greek at a young age and never left simply because he loved his job. He accumulated so many stories and told me of numerous freak events. Having witnessed them first hand, he always knew the inside scoop and would share it with me. I was even lucky enough to have one of the Wear Purple ticket stubs from Prince’s sold-out Purple Rain concert in my possession.
There is one concert that will forever hold a place in my heart. It was the Nirvana benefit concert performed to raise money for Bosnian rape victims. They opened with the very emotional song Rape Me, and while the cause moved me, it was the emotion in the song that made me fall even more in love with music than I already was. After I left the concert that night, The Greek was not only my father’s favorite place to be, but mine too.
My mom was not into music like my dad was; she preferred clothes to concerts. She taught me to sew, and together we made a quilt with the concert t-shirts I outgrew. Between my father and I, we collected over two hundred pieces of chronicled music history.
Trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up was always puzzling. I was torn between my father’s love for music, my mother’s love for fashion, and my love for capturing images of all things beautiful. I thought maybe I’d have a music career or go to the New York School of Fashion and Design like my mother had. Whichever career path I chose needed to lead me toward being able to take pictures. Maybe someday I’d create my own dream job that blended all three!