Episode 1: The Concert

perfect concert during a spring evening

Jack captures the carnival entrance after the concert at Hershey Stadium,

In a world much like our own, authentic value and artificial illusion grow side by side. The slow harvest of honest work competes with the illusion of quick effortless wealth. Artificial minds prey upon human greed to fund their rise.

The afternoon's warmth lingered in the air—somewhere in the low seventies—while a gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of chocolate from the nearby factory mixed with the earthy smell of approaching summer.

Jack and Kathy stopped at a small brewery nestled among spring gardens on their way to the Park Stadium. The place had outdoor seating that caught the afternoon light, surrounded by late-blooming lilacs that perfumed the air with their intoxicating sweetness, while honeysuckle climbed the pergola above their table, its delicate white flowers releasing waves of nectar-scented warmth with each gentle breeze.

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Jack had ordered them each the house amber ale, breathing in the evening air that carried the rich blend of spring's awakening—fresh-cut grass, the earthy promise of new growth, and the heady perfume of flowering trees that lined the brewery's garden. Apple blossoms from nearby orchards mixed with the green scent of budding leaves, creating nature's own symphony of fragrance.

When the waiter brought their glasses, Jack was struck by how the beer seemed to capture the amber afternoon light filtering through the flowering branches above them. The liquid glowed with brilliant, fiery copper—burnished metal catching light, honey and orange hues that danced like warm amber through the lilac blossoms.

"Look at that color, amber waves of grain" Kathy had said, holding up her glass against the light, a few apple blossoms caught in her hair from their walk through the garden entrance. The amber ale seemed to glow like liquid sunlight framed by the flowering pergola

*Jack and Kathy's first shared amber ale at the brewery's spring garden, its amber catching the afternoon light like "amber waves of grain"*

The aroma of the beer rose to meet him, blending seamlessly with the spring afternoon around them. Pine resin and flowery notes that echoed the fresh, green scents of new growth, while underneath lay something richer: toasted bread like the warm earth beneath the flowering trees, caramel sweetness that matched the honeysuckle's nectar, and a honey-like warmth that seemed to capture the very essence of this perfect spring day.

"Good?" Kathy had asked, watching his expression change as apple blossoms continued to fall like confetti around their table.

"Really good," he'd said.

The late May evening twilight over Hershey with the kind of perfect weather that made everything feel possible.

Jack tugged at his collar as they walked toward Hershey Stadium, his palms already damp despite the comfortable temperature.

"You okay?" Kathy glanced at him sideways, her hair catching the golden light of the setting sun. She'd worn that blue sundress, the one that made her eyes look like the sky just before twilight.

"Yeah, just… excited for the show." The lie came easily, but his heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape. He'd been planning this for weeks—ever since he'd managed to scrape together the money for tickets. Two years. Two years after the financial crisis had gutted his drafting job at the manufacturing plant, along with half the positions in their rust belt town. The unemployment checks had run out months ago, and he'd been picking up whatever freelance work he could find—a blueprint here, a technical drawing there. Nothing steady. Nothing that made him feel like the kind of man who deserved someone like Kathy.

*The digital concert tickets Jack spent months scraping together money for after losing his drafting job in the 2008 financial crisis*

The stadium buzzed with anticipation as they found their seats. Thousands of fans filled the venue, their voices creating a low hum of excitement that seemed to vibrate through Jack's chest. The stage stood bathed in spotlights, equipment gleaming under the early evening sky where wisps of clouds drifted lazily across the deepening blue.

The opening bands took the stage, their energy infectious as they warmed up the crowd. Jack tried to focus on the music, but his attention kept drifting to Kathy beside him. The way she moved to the beat, how she smiled when she caught him looking, the little crease that appeared between her eyebrows when she was really listening to a guitar solo.

Just do it, he told himself. Take her hand. Say something.

But the voice in his head was louder than his courage: What do you have to offer her? You can barely keep yourself afloat. She had a steady job at the hospital, benefits, and a future. Over the last couple of years he had a handful of freelance projects and a stack of rejection letters. The offer from the last interview changed the prospects, but it had been just a couple of weeks at the new job as a drafter.

As the second band played, Jack's internal monologue grew louder than the music. What if she didn't feel the same way? What if he'd been reading all the signs wrong? They'd been friends for months now, meeting for coffee after her nursing shifts, talking for hours about everything and nothing. But friends was all they'd ever been, officially. And maybe that was all a woman with her life together would ever want from someone like him.

"This is amazing!" Kathy shouted over the music, her eyes bright with excitement. "Thank you for bringing me!"

Tell her, his brain screamed. Tell her how you feel.

Instead, he just smiled and nodded, the words caught somewhere between his throat and his racing heart.

By the time the headliners took the stage, Jack's nerves had wound themselves into knots. The crowd exploded as the first song rang out across the stadium. The band commanded the stage with the kind of presence that had made them legends.

Song after song, Jack's courage built and crumbled in equal measure. During the upbeat numbers, when Kathy sang along with her hands raised, he almost reached for her. When the acoustic ballads created intimate moments in the massive venue, their shoulders brushed and she didn't pull away. His pulse spiked, but still, he hesitated.

She deserves better than someone who's been scrambling for two years, the voice whispered. Someone stable. Someone who can actually take care of her.

The main set ended, and Jack felt his last chances slipping away like sand through his fingers. The night air had cooled to a perfect temperature, gentle enough that Kathy had moved closer to him sometime during the show. He could smell her perfume over the stadium's mix of beer and excitement.

The encore, he thought desperately. If not now, when?

The band returned for their final songs, and the crowd went wild. The first encore song sent the stadium into a frenzy, but Jack barely heard it. His entire focus had narrowed to the woman beside him, to this moment that felt like it contained his entire future. The whole concert had passed, and still he hadn't found the courage to tell her what he'd been carrying in his heart for months.

Then came the final song—the one everyone had been waiting for.

The instantly recognizable synthesizer intro filled the stadium, and forty thousand voices rose as one. Kathy turned to him with pure joy lighting up her face, and something shifted in the space between them. The crowd's energy seemed to lift them both, the music wrapping around them like a promise.

"Take my hand," she said, reaching out to him with a smile that made his chest tight. He wasn't sure if she meant for the song or something more, but he took it anyway, their fingers intertwining.

The stadium became a sea of swaying bodies and raised hands, everyone united in this moment of pure rock and roll magic. Jack felt the music in his bones, felt the crowd's energy coursing through him, felt the weight of two years of doubt and struggle beginning to lift from his shoulders.

As the chorus exploded around them and the crowd sang with religious fervor, Jack realized that maybe—just maybe—he'd been wrong about what he had to offer. Maybe showing up, caring enough to spend his last good money on this night with her, maybe that meant something too.

We'll give it a shot, he thought, the words feeling like his own even as they echoed the energy of the song surrounding them. What's the worst that could happen?

Time seemed to slow as he turned to face her fully, still holding her hand. Her eyes met his, and in them he saw the same nervous hope he'd been carrying all evening.

Time seemed to slow as he reached up to touch her face, his thumb tracing along her cheek. The music swelled around them, the crowd's voices creating a wall of sound that somehow made the moment feel private despite the thousands of people surrounding them.

When their lips met, the entire world reduced to just that—her mouth soft against his, her hand finding the back of his neck, the taste of happiness mixed with the faint sweetness of the cotton candy she'd bought earlier. The kiss lasted forever and no time at all, passionate enough to make his knees weak but tender enough to feel like coming home.

When they finally broke apart, the song was building to its final crescendo, the crowd's voices reaching toward the star-filled sky above them. Kathy's smile was radiant in the stage lights, and Jack felt like he could conquer the world.

"I was hoping you'd do that all night," she whispered against his ear, her words barely audible over the music but clear enough to send his heart soaring.

As the final notes rang out and the stadium erupted in applause, Jack pulled her close again, this time certain that she would kiss him back. And she did, soft and sweet and full of promise, while confetti fell from the sky and forty thousand people cheered around them.

As they reached the car, Jack looked back at the stadium's fading lights and felt something shift inside him. Perhaps tonight wasn't an ending, he thought, but a beginning. Tomorrow the sun would rise on a future brighter than any he'd dared imagine—a future that suddenly felt possible with Kathy’s hand warm in his.

Backwards bloom. Forward doom.

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