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The bar filled with the sound of idle chatter. Everyone waited for the band to start playing. Ghost Fox Goddesses, some indie girl band. They were supposed to be really good. The bar itself was kind of a dive. Not the best place to play, but beggars couldn’t be choosers he supposed. People sat at tall wooden tables. They were old and worn as was the rest of the building. The long bar had seen some years. Stains and scratches were set into the wood. The bartender slid a bottle of beer across it into the hands of a young woman. Oliver’s eyes moved over her and flicked back to the bartender. He was about as rough around the edges as the bar. His hair was gray and cut short to his head. He wore glasses and a dark t-shirt. A dish towel sat on his left shoulder.
“Scotch. Neat.”
He nodded and grabbed the glass and bottle. The bartender did a little flip with the bottle, trying to show off. When the glass slid toward him, Oliver set enough money down for the drink and a tip. He picked up his glass and found his way back to his friends. Tommy, Digg, and Lyla waited for him in front of the stage. Digg and Lyla stood with their arms wrapped around each other, looking like the married couple they were. They begrudgingly agreed to have their weekly date night with Tommy and Oliver, the two bachelors who seemingly refused to settle down.
Three ladies had come onto the stage since Oliver had been gone. A pale blonde picked up a guitar and tested a few notes. The lead singer, a tan brunette stood in front of the microphone with her own guitar. But Oliver had eyes for the blonde with pink streaks, sitting at the drums. She twisted her drumsticks in between her fingers and waited for the other two to get ready. Tommy put his hand on Oliver’s shoulder, tugging his attention away from the drummer.
“You know what they say… guitarists have the best hands, singers can hold their breath the longest, and drummers fuck the hardest,” Tommy whispered in his ear.
Apparently he had been loud enough for Digg to hear because the older man went. “Lord.”
Oliver shook his head. “You’re awful.” But he still laughed.
“How are you all doing tonight?” The lead singer spoke. She had a deeper almost raspy voice. “I’m Dinah, this is Sara, and back on the drums is Felicity. We are Ghost Fox Goddesses.”
They began to play. It had a unique vibe, but Oliver liked it. Dinah had a nice voice and she and Sara both played their instruments well. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Felicity. She slammed her drumsticks into the drums. Her face was focused and yet serene as if she were losing herself in the music. Oliver could feel the beat of the drums in his chest. The rest of the world faded away. Felicity’s eyes lifted up and their gaze met. She smiled at him and continued to play her drums. His heart skipped a beat.
When she looked away, he wanted to chase her gaze.
Before he knew it their set was over and they were walking off stage. He still had a glass full of alcohol in his hand.
Tommy waved his hand in front of his face. “You still in there?”
Oliver blinked. “Yeah.” He knocked back his drink in one big gulp.
He walked away from Tommy to get another drink. He needed it. Felicity was beautiful and talented. He wanted to talk to her and he didn’t know if he would get the chance. He had never felt someone’s passion in their music before, but he could feel it could see it. His heart resonated with the way she played. Oliver leaned against the bar. His hands shook. God, it was like he had never heard music before she played.
The bartender slid him another drink and he took it eagerly.
“So I guess you liked my playing,” a soft voice said beside him.
He looked down and was met with the striking gaze of Felicity. “Yeah, I did.” He grinned.
His eyes moved over her. She stood before him in a purple and black plaid, flannel shirt, covering a black tank top. Her jeans were dark and torn. She wore combat boots with a heel, bringing her up at least three inches. The only word that came to mind was, hot.
She turned and ordered a beer. “Glad you did.” She seemed so relaxed. Maybe even unimpressed with him.
He had so many things to say about her playing, but he didn’t want to scare her away. Oliver didn’t want to be that guy with the obsessive behavior. He took a deep breath and knocked back his second drink. The glass slid across the bar and back into the bartender’s hand. He raised the glass and Oliver nodded. This girl was going to drive him to get drunk and he didn’t even know her.
“Your music was amazing.” He said without looking at her.
“It was a combined effort.”
“Yeah.. but drumming is kind of an important part of the song isn’t it?” He took his glass and looked down at the amber liquid. He could feel her gaze on him.
Oliver turned to meet her blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes. She wasn’t his usual type if he was being honest. He stood there in a suit and she had brightly colored hair and piercings. Her lips were about as bright as her hair and the rest of her makeup was pale. Nothing about that was wrong. She was stunning. Beautiful. Sexy. If Tommy had been whispering in his ear, his friend would have said the punk girls were freakier in bed. She was a drummer and a punk. His chances of good sex were getting higher. He didn’t want to think that way, though. That’s not why he was drawn to her. Felicity’s music moved him.
“You’re thinking awfully hard.” She lifted her beer and took a drink.
“If I’m being honest there was something about your music that really…” He sighed because he really didn’t want to freak her out.
“Really what?”
“Moved me.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes and pulled away.
“Wait. I’m being serious. I could feel the beat of the music in my chest. It was like… I never heard music before.”
“And you’re not saying this to get into my pants?”
“No. I promise.”
She stared into his eyes for a long moment. “Men only say that because they want to fuck me.”
“I don’t want to fuck you.”
She raised her chin.
He felt himself withering where he stood. “Felicity, you’re beautiful, but I swear I just wanted to talk to you about your music.”
She smirked and took another drink of her beer.
Oliver sighed. “I mean what I said. When you played I could feel it in my chest… in my heart. I thought I knew music, but your drumming was something else.”
She slowly lowered her beer. Her eyes moved over his face. “You’re being serious.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to say.”
“What’s your name?”
“Oliver.”
“Well, Oliver, you’re kind of refreshing.”
He smiled. “So are you.”
She took a large gulp of her beer. “If you really want to talk… Do you want to go back to my place? We’re not having sex we’re just going to talk.”
Oliver raised his hands in surrender. “Understood.” He put his glass down without finishing it and waited for her to decide what to do with her own drink.
She set hers down and grabbed his hand. Felicity led him out of the bar. Any thought of his friends was long gone out of his head. He walked with her out onto the street. She let go of his hand and shoved her hands into her jean pockets. He walked side by side with her. The night was cool. A slight breeze blew against them. A few cars rolled down the street, but for the most part it was quiet.
“You don’t really look like the kind of guy that would vibe with my music.” She looked up at him.
“I know.”
“But you felt all that?”
“I did. I stood there and listened to your music and I felt like the only person in the room. If I thought I could look away from you I would have closed my eyes and lost myself in the sound, but part of the magic was watching you lose yourself. I could feel the passion you have for your music and it just… made my heart beat faster or something. Does that make any sense? I’m almost thirty years old and I feel like I’m hearing music for the first time.” He laughed.
She stared at him.
“What?”
“No one has ever described my music that way. If anyone talks about the band it's usually Dinah’s singing or how cool the guitar solos are. I mean some people like the drum solos, but you’re something else.”
Oliver bit down on his lip. “I think people should appreciate you more.”
“Thanks.” Felicity stopped in front of a worn down brick building. “This is me.”
He looked up at it and then to her. She led him up the front steps and inside. They went up a few flights of stairs until they reached her door. The place wasn’t the nicest. He could tell some work needed to be done. Inside her apartment looked just like her. The pieces of furniture were eclectic and comfortable. Some of them looked like they came from a flea market. There was a large Robin Hood poster hanging on one wall. An old coffee table held a rusty vase with sunflowers in it. Her couch was old, but it had that comfortable squishy look to it. In the corner was a small piano, leaning beside it was an acoustic guitar. All over the apartment were items of clothes and sheet music.
“Make yourself comfortable.” She kicked off her boots. “I have to check on Hamlet.”
“What’s a Hamlet?”
He followed her as she walked further into her apartment. Sitting on a table near the kitchen was a cage. In this cage sat a white rat. He took a step back.
She laughed. “Are you afraid of rats?”
He straightened. “No.”
“Good because he’s the sweetest.” She poured some food into a little bowl and scratched the top of Hamlet’s head. “Aren’t you?”
This woman was on a whole other level.
“C’mere,” she said, closing the cage. She led him back into the living room.
Felicity grabbed onto her guitar and plopped down on the couch. He joined her, plopping down. He was right, the couch was squishy. She leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. She stuck one foot up, revealing a pink and white striped sock with a hole in the toe. Her guitar rested on her thigh. She strummed for a moment without looking at him. Then she started singing.
Olilver’s heart seized in his chest. She had the most amazing voice. It was soft and melodic. Magical even. It danced across his skin and through his head. As she continued she got more into the song. Her passion grew and she pulled him in deeper. He could feel himself drawing closer to her. He leaned on the edge of his seat as her words wrapped around him. Her music squeezed his heart and refused to let go.
When she finished, she let the guitar slide away and looked at him. “Are you okay?”
“You’re amazing.” He swallowed.
She giggled and blushed. “Are you sure you just haven’t been devoid of all music your whole life?”
“No.” He smiled. “Maybe you’re just a siren.”
Felicity blinked, momentarily shocked, before breaking out into a laugh. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Oliver watched the pure joy brighten up her face. He had never seen anything so beautiful. “Tell me more about yourself.”
“Hmm… I grew up in California. I went to UCLA. I moved here not that long ago. The band is mine, I formed it and had tryouts. I love Sara and Dinah, though. They’re amazing.” She twiddled her thumbs while she talked. “What about you?”
“I grew up here… I work at Starling National.”
“The bank?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re a banker.”
“Yeah.”
“Yikes.”
“Don’t yikes me.”
She laughed. “That’s so stuffy.”
“I know.” He flopped back on the couch.
“This was the first time you’ve gotten out in awhile huh?”
“My friends and I go out for a drink every weekend, but this was the first concert I’ve seen in awhile.”
She leaned over him. “I wouldn’t call it a concert… a small show perhaps.”
He looked deep into her eyes. His hand went up to cup her cheek. His thumb grazed over her skin. She didn’t stop him.
“Whatever it was… I’m glad I was there.”
“Yeah?” Her voice grew softer.
“Yeah. I think I was meant to meet you.”
His heart beat faster in his chest.
“I think so too.”
Felicity leaned in the rest of the way and pressed her lips to his. It started out slow and sweet. Simple. His hand moved to her hair, tangling in those colorful curls. Her lips pressed harder. She wanted more. He needed more. She parted her lips. He slid his tongue inside. He could taste the alcohol on her tongue, bitter, but underneath was the taste of her. He savored her sweetness. They only pulled back once they needed air. His body was on fire, buzzing with excitement and an energy he hadn’t felt before. He was alive.
Felicity’s lipstick was smeared across her lips. She smiled as she pulled back further. Her thumb moved across his lips. “It’s a good color on you.”
He laughed.
“We’re still not going to have sex.”
“Understood.”
“But I want to know more about you.”
“Me too.”
They stayed up the entire night talking. Learning more about each other. And trading the occasional kiss. It was the best night of Oliver’s life.