“You’re not going to die if you miss one concert,” his father had told him.

Danny said nothing. Not because he agreed. Because he had no words that could explain to a man like his father what it means to feel that life is happening somewhere else and you are outside like an idiot.

So he went without a ticket. Just to stand outside. Just to hear something. Just so later he could say he had been there, close at least, even outside the concrete.