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It began with the shrill of a piano, as every night did. Following the freestyle of scales and arpeggios of the slick black keyed instrument, a rising and falling pulse beat echoed from its neighboring companion; the cello. A cool, soft toe tap-inducing beat, sounded from beyond the large stringed instrument; the drums were always my favorite part. Every night began like this, the swaying of bodies compelled by those who aroused such sounds from beyond the seats.
My eyes browsed beyond the wooden barrier, scanning the relaxed faces of those who seemed entranced by the skillful composers. I too succumbed to the beautiful sounds surrounding me. It was one of the many reasons I had taken the job, to listen to beauty.
As always, I kept my ears open, not wanting to miss a single syncopated note as the night prolonged. I served from within the dark and skillfully designed wooden bar, smiling and nodding along with those who sat near me. If you stayed long enough, past the workers who struggled in after work, you would witness something truly magnificent. At 8 o’clock on the dot, his footsteps would silently make their way to a seat, simultaneous with the returning trumpet man. At first, I thought he had known the hired trumpet and that his returning figure was merely for support. In time I gathered that the recurring man was simply here as everyone else; to encompass himself in the sweet escape of music.
We had never spoken, only nodding to each other when he stood at the bar and nodded to his chosen poison for the night. He would slip his card my way and I would trade him for the liquid substance of the night. Our silent conversations never passed that extent. Neither of us moved to change the habit; I suppose we enjoyed it.
Until one night he swaggered in, head high and peaceful as he sat down. His usual seat was four tables from the bar, closest to the back right corner. Today he had abandoned his usual seat, choosing the most centered table in front of the small dance floor and stage. I watched from beyond the side stage currents, curious about why he had moved.
“Are you watching Mr. Tall and Handsome over there?” My eyes left his lean figure as I looked up at the kind bearded pianist. I scoffed and furrowed my eyebrows back at the said man as he repeatedly looked from the bar to his watch. “He doesn’t usually come on Thursdays, I wonder why he came today.”
I tore myself from the velvet curtain, nerves setting in. “You ready, little girly?” My head glanced at the piano nodding before straightening my dress with shaky fingers. In a matter of seconds, the comfort of dark blue velvet left me open and bare as the greeting of tables of people conversing silently opened before me. Their eyes traveled to my still form as I felt the smooth material across my body trying to brush away the nerves. But none of their eyes affected me as he did. I gulped, maintaining eye contact as a slow romantic beat resonated. My hips swayed unknowingly as an impromptu run floated from the horn of a trumpet joined by the soft pressing keys of a piano. As they conversed, bantering with harmonies and cannons, a new sound joined the choir. It was enchanting, slow, and steady as it complimented the noise behind it. The enticing sound compelling the movements of others, luring them to the floor between the man and me. Our eyes met between the swaying bodies, each time moving slower and slower. Time itself yields to the tempo of each song and each song I could still feel his eyes.
After countless songs, I began to tire. My brain was working on overdrive, but my throat was straining and my body was growing tiresome from the refrained swaying and constant standing in heels. Finally, I bowed, my smile greeted the dancers’ clapping as I stepped from the stage. I felt the fabric of my dress sway as I made my way to the bar, motioning for water vaguely.
“I didn’t know you could sing,” Was the first thing he said to me that night.
My eyes left the clear liquid in front of me, focusing on his stature instead. “Surprise?” I shrugged my shoulders, turning my body to face the man behind the bar.
“It sure is.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled boxy and confident. “My name is Taehyung.” Ah, finally a name to the frequent visitor.
“(Y/N).”
Our hands connected in a firm shake as I returned his smile, not matching its brilliant shine I’m sure. Our bodies remained in their positions as he silently ordered some wine, placing one in my hand and clinking our glasses together with a smile. We returned to our previous silent conversations as we observed each other in secret from the side.
His shoulders were broad underneath his suit, most likely tailored to fit only him. A crisp clean-cut black jacket and pants tied well with a matching black tie over a white shirt and shined shoes. His body screamed sophistication, but his smile betrayed his looks as it gave away his inner childlike demeanor. Deep brown curly hair flopped just over his eyes, complementing a matching pair of eyes that roamed from me to the surrounding areas. When our wine began to run dry our eyes once again found themselves meeting, only this time I seemed to shy away, finding the proximity to someone so striking nerve-racking.
He stood with a jump, holding his right hand close to my body in an open gesture. “Do you want to dance?”
My eyes traveled up his arm to his face, returning his large smile with one of my own while nodding. How could I refuse when he smiles like that? “I would love to.” His hand exceeded mine in size, consuming my small one entirely as he led me through the low lit room to the empty dance floor.
I looked to the side, hiding my reddened face as he placed his left hand on my waist, keeping my body enclosed in his as we swayed to the tempo of the band. I felt his chest rumble as he chuckled, gazing down at me in a way I could only hope to describe as fondness.
Minutes turned to hours as we continued to sway, our bodies molding closer as time passed. Our right hands left their grasps and settled for holding each other. His hands encircled my waist while mine wrapped themselves comfortably around his shoulders, allowing my head to rest on his chest. Few words were spoken other than small side comments about a couple of people that often left me fighting to keep the giggles in. There was no need for lengthy complicated talks about life when the music told us all we needed to know, all we would ever need to know. And as the last cadence of the night sounded, I felt his hands tighten on mine while I lifted my head giving him a small smile.
“Alright, you love birds, time to go.” Our eyes glanced at the spoken cellist as he winked and began sweeping the stage. Damn you, Hoseok.
Our laughs mingled together as we detached from our warm embrace. I gathered my long-forgotten heels from a nearby chair as he grabbed his discarded jacket from the same table. I bid goodbye to everyone within range, waving slightly as Taehyung and I walked in step out the door.
“I always wanted to know your name.”
“You could have asked.” Our footsteps halted as he grabbed my hand softly.
“I didn’t want to ruin the whole mysterious thing you had going on.”
I felt my heart swell when his head was thrown back, loud cackles of laughter falling from deep with his chest. My smile turns from fond to nervous as he calms down and gazes down at me once again. “Truthfully, I was too nervous to speak to you.”
My mouth closed as I flushed from my cheeks to my chest. “I thought it was cute seeing you try to drink whiskey with your friends when I first met you.”
Now it was his turn to turn red from embarrassment as he brushed a hand through his curly locks before settling on the back of his neck. “I’m not much of a drinker.”
I hide my growing smile behind my spare hand not holding his other. “I know.”
Taehyung let a small laugh escape as he hunched forward and burrowed his head in my hair. I giggled nervously as well into his chest feeling myself lean into his warmth when a particularly cold breeze passed by. “Does this mean I don’t have to keep making myself drink wine to see you anymore?”
A snort left my body before I could stop it. He was too cute. “We could go get a coffee?” His nose scrunched up at the idea. “Tea?” More nose scrunching. “Hot chocolate?” A smile this time. “Hot chocolate it is.”