Displaced
They were working their way through the third song when a mutant hater decided to take exception to the fact that yes, they were mutants, and yes, they were proud of it. Not that Sergei, Anelo and Jonothon could exactly hide the fact that there was something different about them.
"I've watched my life drip away
The knife set in my hand
My parents don't want to know me
Since I became someone new
And I wonder why I became
One of the displaced.
And I wonder why I became,
One of the displaced
Never know my way back home
Since I been displaced
Something's missing
Something's gone
You know, you really never can go back home..."
"FREAKS!" A man yelled, standing up in the audience.
They tried to ignore him and keep playing.
"F*cking muties, taking our jobs! They're dangerous! They should all be wiped out!"
Jonothon's fingers hesitated over the strings of his guitar as he sensed the hatred beginning to rise.
"We need to go."
"Alright," Sergei said softly.
They finished the song and the manager came up to them quickly. The bigot was trying to whip the rest of the crowd into a frenzy of hatred and was beginning to suceed.
"Here's your pay. I don't think this was your fault, and I'll hire you again, but I think for the moment, you really need to go," the woman said quickly.
"My sister's a mutant, so I..."
"Thanks, miss," Sergei said, taking the money.
They packed up quickly and left. Things were thrown at the van and obscenities screamed out at them. Angelo collapsed into his seat and put his hand over his eyes.
"I hate it when things like that happen."
"At least we still got paid," Octavian said.
"True, true..."
The van descended into silence as they drove back to the mansion, angry that one person could manage to ruin something that had been going so well, so quickly.