I need another moment. More time in that beat-up car, blasting 30 Seconds to Mars' "Kings and Queens" with you. One moment, screaming at the height of our lungs, following the words, feeling the music. Shout-screaming all the lyrics out the windows in the cool, cool night, hoping for the flashing of crimson and blue. Bright blue. Daring them to take us down. I need another moment. More time in that old, tan Grand Prix, frozen in the worn leather seats, embracing "Kings and Queens of fortune", being "the victims of ourselves". One moment, cruising with all the windows down, with the dusty skylight open, feeling the coolness of the night seeping into our favorite pairs of jeans, stopping the tears on our cheeks in their places. I need a moment. One more time. I need another moment, all of us, in that car together again, separately feeling the barren hope of being. Five of us, crammed into that little compact car, experiencing the magic of music, flowing through us all as we felt so alone, being all pressed against each other, our jeans and cut-off shorts threading together as our bones rubbed and pojed through our skins. I need one more moment, just one. All of us, in that car together, being. Existing. Just that. Just.