CH15 Mika’s Revenge

Normal days passed, each blending into the next, and nothing out of the ordinary seemed to happen. Life had fallen into a steady rhythm—work, eat, sleep, and repeat. But one thing that stood out was the band Kenjie had recommended to me. I found myself listening to their music more often, and the more I listened, the more I started to appreciate their sound. Mika’s Revenge was actually good, with a rhythm that was both catchy and unique.

Their genre was an intriguing blend of rock and pop, something I hadn’t really been into before, but there was a certain freshness to their sound. The heavy guitar riffs combined with upbeat melodies created an energetic mix that was hard to resist. Their songs were mostly about love—typical themes like heartbreak, longing, and finding yourself through the ups and downs of relationships. But there was something deeper in the way they expressed these emotions, something raw and honest.

The drummer, who Kenjie couldn’t stop talking about, had a unique flair. The beats were tight,

and the way she transitioned between heavy rock rhythms and softer, more melodic sections

felt seamless. Her style stood out from the rest, giving the band an edge that set them apart from the usual pop-rock groups.

As I listened to their most popular tracks, I found myself tapping along to the beat, even humming the melodies under my breath during breaks at work. Despite their international fame and the hype around them, the lyrics felt personal. I could see why they were making waves, even across borders. They managed to take something as universal as love and heartbreak and make it feel intimate, like they were speaking directly to you.

The band had clearly made it big, with their faces on magazine covers, interviews on TV, and

social media buzzing about their every move. They weren’t just some niche underground group—they had reached international acclaim, and it seemed like everyone was talking about them. It was hard to go a day without hearing one of their songs playing in the background somewhere, whether at the café or on the radio during my commute.

As I kept diving into their music, something still gnawed at me. The name, Mika’s Revenge, had stirred something inside me from the moment Kenjie mentioned it. No matter how many times I tried to push it aside, that sense of familiarity lingered in the back of my mind. Every time I heard their songs, especially the ones that talked about loss or moving on, it felt like they were pulling at something deeper within me. But I still couldn’t figure out what. It was frustrating, but I had come to accept that I might not be the only one feeling this strange connection. After all, millions of people were captivated by the band, and I had no way of knowing what exactly was gnawing at me.

I stood there on the rooftop of the company building, gazing out at the city skyline. The cool breeze brushed against my face, giving me a moment of clarity from the constant flow of work.

The sound of my phone buzzing snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the notification and saw Kenjie's message flash across the screen.

"Yo, available this weekend?" I tapped a reply, "Maybe?"

He responded almost immediately.

"So you're free. I got tickets for the live concert of Mika’s Revenge. And check this out—it's a meet-and-greet after the concert! You in?"

For a moment, I just stared at my phone, unsure of how to respond. A meet-and-greet? The idea of seeing the band live was intriguing enough, but to meet them in person? The thought sent a jolt through me.

I hesitated, wondering if I was overthinking everything. But deep down, I knew I couldn’t pass

up the opportunity.

"I'm in," I replied, already feeling a strange mix of excitement and unease growing inside me.

Kenjie’s enthusiasm was palpable, even through the phone.

"Awesome! We’re gonna have a blast, man. You won’t regret it." I hesitated for a second before asking, "Will you bring Eri too?" "Yeah, of course. Is that a problem?" he asked, his tone curious.

I chuckled lightly. "No, but I feel like I’ll be getting in the way of you two. I mean, won’t I just be

the third wheel?"

Kenjie immediately waved off my concern, as if the idea was completely ridiculous. "Nah, man! You're not a third wheel. We’re all friends, all in this together. Plus, I’ve got extra tickets. It’d be such a waste if you didn’t come! And besides, Eri’s chill—she’s totally down for group outings like this."

I sighed, smiling a little at how easily Kenjie always managed to turn things around. "Alright,

fine. I’ll be there."

"Great!" he replied, his excitement leaping through his words again. "You won't regret it, I promise. Plus, you'll finally get to see them live! It'll be a night to remember!"

The day of the concert finally arrived, and we found ourselves standing in a long line of excited fans, all buzzing with anticipation. The stadium itself was massive—one of the largest in the country—and only a handful of legendary artists had performed there. It was clear now that Mika's Revenge was more than just a successful band—they were a national icon.

After nearly an hour of waiting, our turn to enter finally came. Kenjie handed out the tickets, giving one to Eri and then to me. I glanced at the glossy print, noting something special: Meet and Greet 53/100. My eyes widened as I realized what that meant—only 100 of these exclusive tickets existed.

I turned to Kenjie, my voice full of disbelief. "How... how did you get these tickets?" I asked.

Kenjie puffed out his chest with a smirk. "Ha! Connections, man. Connections." He winked, clearly proud of himself.

Eri, standing beside him, couldn’t help but chuckle. "Yeah, his ‘connections.’ Sure," she said, rolling her eyes. "It was actually my friend’s friend who got these tickets as a gift for me."

I blinked in surprise. "Oh, wow. Thank you, Eri! These tickets are incredible."

She waved it off casually. "No big deal. One of my girlfriends wasn’t into the band, so I figured,

why waste them? I asked Kenjie to see if you wanted to come. Let's just enjoy the night."

As we made our way to the designated seats, I was floored by how close we were to the stage. Our seats were in the second row, right at the front, so close that you could make out every detail of the setup. The performers would easily be able to see us, too.

Despite the band’s somewhat intense name—Mika's Revenge—the atmosphere inside the stadium was surprisingly upbeat and colorful, more like a pop idol concert. Bright lights flashed around the stadium, setting the stage for the show, and vibrant decorations hung from every corner. The contrast between the band's edgy name and the lively, fun vibe of the concert was unexpected, but it added to the charm of the evening.

Kenjie was grinning from ear to ear, looking like a kid at Christmas, while Eri appeared relaxed, her arm casually hooked around his. I couldn’t help but feel the excitement build in me as the lights dimmed, and the crowd’s chatter turned into eager whispers.

After about 10 minutes, the stadium lights went out, plunging the crowd into an electric darkness. The air buzzed with anticipation, and a sudden, thunderous thud of bass echoed through the arena, vibrating through the seats. As the bassline intensified, the stage lights flickered, flashing in rhythm with the growing sound. The audience roared, and excitement rippled through the crowd.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the noise. "Hello, everyone! It’s so great seeing you all here!" The spotlight focused on the center of the stage, revealing the band’s vocalist. "I'm Cherry!" she continued, her voice full of energy. She turned to the woman beside her and introduced the guitarist. "And this is Sandra, our greatest and sweetest guitarist!"

Sandra, a petite girl with edgy short hair, grinned as she waved to the crowd. The audience erupted in cheers, and Cherry moved to the next introduction.

“This is Shaira, our loving pianist and bassist!” Cherry gestured toward Shaira, who gave a shy

smile, raising her hand in acknowledgment. Her quiet demeanor only added to her charm.

Finally, Cherry walked over to the drum set. "And last but not least, this is Mika—our fiercest and cutest drummer!" At her introduction, Mika twirled her drumsticks and then slammed down a loud, impressive drumroll that sent a wave of cheers through the stadium. As the lights flared up in colorful bursts, a sharp guitar riff followed, blending with the heavy bass and drums. The sound filled the stadium, creating an overwhelming sense of energy.

That’s when I saw her—Mika, up close. The spotlight fell on her as she played, her expression a mix of intense focus and pure joy. Her face was framed by her messy, shoulder-length hair, and

her hands moved effortlessly over the drums. She was pretty, no doubt, but there was something else—a deep sense of familiarity that made my breath catch in my throat.

I couldn’t shake the feeling. She looked so familiar to me, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen her before. My mind raced, trying to figure out why I was so drawn to her, like I was on the edge of remembering something important. The moment felt surreal, as if everything else faded, leaving just Mika and the pounding rhythm of the drums.

Kenjie was beside me, losing his mind with excitement, but I couldn’t focus on anything except

her.

The concert ended after an intense, electrifying hour, and I was left feeling almost breathless. Their rhythm, their energy—it was all in perfect sync. Despite how absurd it seemed, I couldn't help but feel as though some of the songs were written just for me. Each beat and lyric

resonated deep within me, creating an emotional pull I couldn’t explain. It was cringe-worthy, maybe, but it was how I felt.

“See? It was amazing, right?!” Kenjie exclaimed, his face lit up with excitement.

“Yeah, it really was,” I replied, equally enthusiastic.

“I loved it!” Eri chimed in, still buzzing with energy from the performance.

“Come on, let’s go line up for the meet and greet!” Kenjie urged, pulling us toward the

backstage entrance.

We waited for about 30 minutes before we finally reached the backstage area. A long table stretched in front of us, adorned with a massive banner that read, "Mika's Revenge Meet and Greet." The band sat behind the table, signing autographs and smiling for photos with their fans. Even though they had just poured their energy into an hour-long concert, they were back at it, now forced to keep their smiles for the eager fans. It looked exhausting. They had already changed out of their stage outfits into something more casual, but the crowd still buzzed with excitement.

I glanced at the ticket in my hand once again. 53/100. It felt surreal knowing I was one of the lucky few who would get this opportunity. The line was long ahead of me, but slowly, fans were shuffled through—each one given about two minutes to speak to the band members, get a handshake, and grab some autographs.

As I inched forward, my heart began to race. I wasn't used to this kind of situation, being

starstruck by celebrities. My hands tightened around the small booklet I’d brought for their autographs. The excitement was building in my chest, mixed with a sudden wave of nervousness.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, I found myself standing at the front of the line. My legs felt weak, and I was sure my nerves were obvious. Mika, Cherry, Sandra, and Shaira were right there—smiling and chatting casually with the fan ahead of me. And now, it was my turn.

I took a step forward, holding out the booklet. My hands were trembling slightly, my thoughts racing. What was I supposed to say? I wasn’t just meeting any band—I was meeting her—Mika. That strange familiarity still gnawed at the back of my mind as I watched her interact with the fans before me. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that this was just a meet and greet.

Nothing more. But that didn’t stop the flood of emotions from rising.

I was nervous—more nervous than I had anticipated. But this was my moment.

I moved forward, my heart pounding in my chest as I reached the table. First up was Cherry, the band’s vocalist. She gave me a warm smile, shook my hand, and signed the booklet. It was brief but polite, and I felt a little at ease. Next was Sandra, who gave a little nod as she scribbled her name, followed by Shaira, who flashed a quick grin before handing the booklet back.

And then, it happened. The moment I had been strangely dreading and anticipating at the same time—Mika.

As I stepped up to her, my hand slightly trembled as I passed her the booklet. Our eyes met for the first time, and it was as if time stopped. Something flickered in my mind, something I couldn’t quite grasp but knew was there. The moment felt heavier than it should’ve, her gaze meeting mine like a thread pulling at a long-lost memory.

I handed her the booklet, and as she reached out to take it, flashes from the past came flooding back to me, vivid and disjointed.

Suddenly, I was standing on the rooftop of my old building, staring into the sky, laughing with a girl who stood beside me. Her laughter echoed, blending with the sound of the wind. I couldn’t see her face, but I remembered how comfortable I felt, how natural it was to be around her.

We had talked about everything—dreams, fears, and even trivial things like which games we loved the most.

Then another memory, the two of us in front of a console, our faces lit up by the glow of the TV as we played video games late into the night. She would always tease me when she won, and I would mock-complain about how she was too good. Her laugh was like music, filling the room with warmth.

Next, the amusement park. I saw her standing there, waiting by the game stall where I’d won the plushie, a bright smile on her face as I handed it to her like some grand prize. Her excitement was contagious. That day felt so perfect, so carefree—just the two of us, lost in the joy of the moment.

And finally, another flash—her cooking in my small kitchen, laughing at how I tried (and failed) to help. She wore an apron, her back to me as she moved effortlessly around, preparing a meal for me. I remember feeling…something. Something deeper, like I had found something precious. But her face—it was still a blur in my mind. I couldn’t see her clearly, no matter how hard I tried. Yet, I knew she was important.

The memories swirled around, incomplete but vivid, pieces of a puzzle that I couldn’t quite solve. And now, here I was, standing in front of Mika, with the strange, gnawing sensation that this wasn’t the first time we’d met. My heart raced, and I felt a lump in my throat, trying to shake off the confusion.

Mika signed the booklet, her eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than with the others. Did she feel it too? That pull, that connection? Or was it all in my head?

The beep sounded, abrupt and harsh, signaling my time was up. It pierced through the fog of emotions swirling around in my head. Mechanically, I turned and walked toward the exit, clutching the autographed booklet in my hand. But every step felt heavy, like something was pulling me back, tugging at something deep inside. I couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of emptiness that gnawed at me, a hollowness that made no sense yet felt so real.

Why do I feel like this?

Each step grew heavier as if I was walking through molasses. The world around me became distant, the sounds of the crowd fading into a low hum, drowned by the echo of that moment— when our eyes met. The way Mika looked at me, the intensity of it, like she knew something too, like she was seeing more than just a fan.

I stopped walking, frozen in place by a wave of emotions I couldn’t explain. My mind raced back to that fleeting exchange, my thoughts spinning in confusion. And then, without thinking, I turned around.

There she was—Mika. Running toward me, her face filled with something I couldn’t place: urgency, confusion, maybe even desperation. She stopped just in front of me, her breath quick, her eyes wide and glistening with tears. She was crying.

And that’s when it hit me—the same emotion she was feeling, I felt too. The emptiness, the loneliness, the sadness that had been lurking in my chest ever since we locked eyes. It was like everything I had bottled up suddenly burst open, and before I knew it, tears began to fall, sliding down my cheeks, dripping onto the cold concrete beneath me.

I could barely breathe, the air thick with the weight of something unspoken between us. My vision blurred, but I could still see her—standing there, vulnerable, her eyes searching mine for answers neither of us seemed to have.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice trembling through her tears. “Have we... met before?”

Her words hung in the air, and I felt a knot tighten in my chest. My heart pounded in my ears, and I wanted to say something, anything, that would make sense of the mess of emotions

swirling inside me. But I couldn’t. My voice caught in my throat, choked by the flood of memories and feelings that had no explanation.

I finally managed to say, my voice hoarse. “Yeah, I think so too.”

END