Page · 4 panels
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Layout — 4 panels
[art pending]
The crowd, post-chord. A girl in the front row — twenty-one, Beat Pad just dropped in her pocket — has her hand over her mouth.
- GIRL IN CROWD(whisper, to a friend)…
- GIRL…I didn't know my body would do this.
[art pending]
A father in the middle of the crowd, his arm around his teenage son. The father is crying. The son, twelve, is looking up at his father with confusion and wonder. The father has not heard live music since he was the son's age.
- FATHER(small)Listen. Listen, mijo. Listen.
[art pending]
At the back of the crowd — HOLT from Issue 4. In civilian clothes. Standing alone. The Compliance supervisor who said I'm sure your neighbors won't mind us looking. He has come. He is not reporting. Allred — give us his face. Slow it. He is hearing the future open.
No copy.
[art pending]
On the stage. Jesse, hand on the green guitar, eyes still closed, into the song. Dev, behind, on the kit. The two brothers, locked into each other across the years. The salvage yard ringing.
No copy.