An unidentified undergarment flew by the young man and landed three feet from his older brother. His mind wandered for a moment, he almost forgot the next verse. Some of the fans shot each other looks of venom and batted their eyelashes at the young man, smiling in what they obviously hoped was a suggestive manner. The others screamed too loudly to appreciate the death rays aimed in their direction by their fellow concert-goers. He wipes his face and takes a brief, 12-second break to drink some water, which induces more screaming. His older brother removes the burden of his guitar from his back for a moment before switching to a light, hallow acoustic and slipping the strap around his shoulders. Glancing at his older brother, the young man’s mind flickers at how the song “Maneater” was written. Normally what your older brother is wearing doesn’t introduce these thoughts into your head, but most people called it a ‘wifebeater’, which rhymed. “She’s a wifebeater, watch out boy.” His younger brother was shooting him one of those venomous looks, telling him that his mind was everywhere except where it was supposed to be. He raked his hair out of his face and thought for a moment, then unshielded his eyes and looked at the audience of girls and women and boys and even a few scattered men. He smiled at the screaming and the signs and the plunging tank tops and he shook his head as another bra whizzed by.