The chapter opens with the narrator describing the Revelry, an old music hall in the small beach town of Vienna Shores, North Carolina, where there was music most summer nights. She evokes the atmosphere: the stage lights, the stereo’s crackle, the ingrained smell of beer and sweat, and the graffiti-covered bathrooms and scratched tables that told stories of past patrons.

She notes that the venue’s cocktails were unimportant compared to the music, emphasizing that people came for the experience of live performance. The narrator shares how, when stuck in Los Angeles traffic and overwhelmed by homesickness, she turns up her favorite song to recreate the feeling of being back at the Revelry, sun-warmed and immersed in sound.

She highlights a tradition maintained by her father: after every performance, he photographed the band, had them sign the picture, and pinned it in the lobby. These photos served as a living archive of the artists who had played there, a testament to their presence in that space.

The chapter closes with the narrator’s quiet claim to belonging, asserting that she, too, was once there, linking her identity to the Revelry’s enduring wall of memories and to her father’s ritual.