Author's Note: LJ challenge. Make a scene from a musical you create too a song by your favorite band. Gay? Yes. Gimicky? Yes. Time consuming? You betcha. Why I'm doing it? Why, to express my devoted love for Nirvana, of course! Let's...think of names, shall we?

Um...I don't know...let's call the main guy Bill. Yeah, Bill.

Every musical has some form of love interest...Katie? I like it.

Oh, I don't know...let's add a Steven, Dwayne and...Bjork? Yeah, Bjork. NO! Leonard? Leo! Yes! And Johnny! YES!

Since this is a oneshot, and in no way a full length musical, I don't need much of a plot. Let's just say a bunch of musicians are being angsty in nineties New York (basic premise for RENT, if I'm not mistaken...)

A musical is created. Your welcome

Bill watched, in abysmal indifference, as his band wrestled with the speaker cords, strumming their unplugged guitars and beating their worn sneakers against the platted stage.

"Load up on guns and bring your friends," he hummed, and the first of the crowd piled past the crossing tape, "It's fun to lose and to pretend."

Girls sweeped back their hair and tightened their jacket around their torso as a gust of wind blew past the revenue, though Bill hardly felt it. Kids--couldn't be older then sixteen--chuckled and shoved one another, falling into the orange cones surrounding the makeshift stage. They had backpacks flung across their shoulders, with drum sticks and sketch pads falling from the pockets.

"She's overboard," he sighed, "and self-assured..."

"Hey!" Dwayne called, beckoning for Steven.

"Oh no, I know. A dirty word..."

Johnny and Leo flicked the strings of their acoustics, bouncing their heads to their own drum beats. Their voices blended with his in a gruff, raw harmony, "Hello, hello, hello, how low..."

Hello, hello, hello...

"How low?" Steven asked, lifting a set of cables above a speaker. Dwayne fiddled with the microphone stand, creating a disconcerting static that tremured the ever growing crowd.

The space became occupied, a ring of teenagers now surrounding the circular stage. One thumped a dirty leather boot against a speaker, "Hello, hello, hello, how low?"

The rest joined the mantra, swinging in their steps and flinging their arms through the air, "Hello, hello, hello!"

In one fluid motion, Steven flung his guitar from behind his back, locked it in between his fingers, and strum a note that led to the drumbeats. He pressed his lips to the microphone.

"With the lights out, it's less dangerous"

Katie, with her cup of coffee held close to her chin and her shoulders pulled together, watched with wide eyes, mouthing the words she knew so well and waiting for the speakers to give, "Here we are now, entertain us."

Sparks flew from the microphone stand, and Steven looked into the nameless faces with dead eyes, his fingers moving like machines across the neck of his guitar, "I feel stupid," he croaked, "and contagious."

"Here we are now," she whispered, "entertain us."

"A mulatto!" He cried, losing what little interest he had in the proceedings, now just letting his vocal cords ride on auto pilot, "An Albino!"

"A mosquito!" the crowd sang back, "My libado, yeah!"

Hello, hello, hello

How low?

Hello...hello...hello...

She blew steam from the cup and tapped her foot mindlessly to the thumps of leather and chains, "How low..."

They grew restless, the group of teenagers with a false sense of rebellion, and Steven allowed them to their own devices, breathing to himself words he never did understand. "I'm worse at what I do best, and for this gift I feel blessed..."

"Our little group has always been," Johnny hummed, watching Stevens shoulders stump and his eyes stare listlessly into the mass, "and always will until the end."

His fingers caught a string, and struck a cord that brought the teenagers into a frenzy, and words fell from Stevens lips like vomit, "With the lights out, it's less dangerous--"

"Here we are now!" they chanted, "Entertain us!"

"I feel stupid!" he cried, more to himself then anything, "And...contagious!"

"Here we are, now," Katie leaned back against the plastic fencing, peering over her sunglasses at the boy on stage, "entertain us."

"A mulatto, an albino!"

"A mosquito, my libido!"

"Yeah!" Leo laughed, now senslessly striking cords and waving wildly to the mantra.

Katie tightened her scarf around her neck, "And I forgot, just why I taste...Oh yeah," she smirked, "I guess it makes me smile."

Stevens eyes scanned the bouncing heads, finding Katie's stoic, pale face, half covered with shags of mousy brown hair, "I found it hard, it's hard to find..."

"Oh well, whatever," Johnny muttered, hiding behind a thick head of long black hair, "nevermind."

Hello, hello, hello...hello.

Hello, hello, hello, hello.

Hello, hello, hello...

How low?

"When the lights out, it's less dangerous, here we are now..." Steven stepped back, leaving the masses to their own entrainment, unplugging his guitar.

"Entertain us!"

He strode past Leo, and Johnny, and Dwayne, stepping down the stage, "I feel stupid," he muttered, "and contagious."

"Here we are now! Entertain us!"

"Yeah!"

Katie watched the shaggy, platinum heads of hair thrash and bob to the senseless notes with contempt, sitting up and walking behind the boxes she sat at, "A denial."

Steven watched her go, not bothering to call for her, "A denial."

A denial, a denial.

Yeah.

Author's Note: Wow, how stupid was that?