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“Sam, I’m still not sure about this,” Charlie muttered as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “I mean, pop punk isn’t really my scene. It’s all sweaty guys punching each other.” She made them stop in the middle of the car park, other people walking around them. Twisting the bottom of her shirt, Charlie watched all the people stumbling around them.
“C'mon, Charlie, it’s my brother’s band,” Sam begged. “They’re good, alright, really really good. Plus Ellen has a rule about mosh pits in her bar - if you’re so much as pushed she’ll drag them out by their ear.” Sam pulled his sweetest face, puppy dog eyes compelling Charlie to go in with him.
Sighing, she nodded and started striding to The Roadhouse. She could feel Sam’s smug smirk on the back of her head, so flipped him off before strutting ahead. Hastily, Sam hurried to catch up with her, opening the door for her.
The Roadhouse wasn’t exactly the cleanest of bars, but it was a second home to Sam. His Mom was married to the landlady Ellen - and though they actually lived in a house on the suburbs, they spent most nights in the bar. He hadn’t been back since starting college, and he welcomed the feeling of nostalgia. Charlie was staring at him, a teasing smile on her face. He must have had a stupid look on his face, so he couldn’t blame her.
Charlie was about to make a joke, when someone walked over and pulled Sam into a tight hug.
“College Boy, didn’t think you’d come back for my gig,” he chuckled, patting Sam heavily on his back twice before letting go. “Glad you’re back, Sammy.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Dean this is Charlie, my friend from college,” Sam gestured to Charlie, who had been hiding behind his tall, gangly body. Dean raised his eyebrows and tried to smirk seductively, reaching his arm out to take Charlie’s hand. Sam was snickering, and Charlie understood why. “Dean. She’s a lesbian.”
“Crap, sorry,” Dean hastily retracted his hand, coughing awkwardly. “Well, nice to meet you anyway. Hope you enjoy the gig.” He skulked off, back to the stage where some other people were setting up. There was another guy, who wasn’t as tall as Dean or Sam, but was as big as they were. Behind him, setting up the symbols on her drum kit, was a short girl. Charlie definitely thought she was cute, but a tall women with red hair stalked over and pressed a possessive kiss on her neck.
“Do you want to meet the rest of the band?” Sam asked as Charlie continued to stare at them all. Absently, she nodded, and she felt herself walking over to the stage, Sam guiding her movements. “Hey, guys, this is Charlie!”
All of them turned to face her at once. Their glares were intense, and everything was terrifying for a second. Then the short (well not short but shorter than the Winchesters) guy broke into a cocky grin and jumped from the stage to shake Charlie’s hand. From there, the rest of them jumped into motion and moved to greet Charlie and Sam.
“Heya, name’s Benny,” the guy grinned, accent a Cajun drawl. He heartily shook Charlie’s hand, causing her to shake too. “I play bass.”
“I’m Meg,” the petite girl nodded, though didn’t extend her hand. “I play drums, better than Bonham. This is my girlfriend, Abi. She’s not in the band.” Meg looked affectionately up at the tall girl, petting her leather clad arm. Abi smirked back at her, then pulled her into another kiss.
Sam was staring between all the band members, brows furrowed as if something was off. Charlie was about to ask him what was wrong when he jumped up.
“Christ, Jo! I told you to not do that!” Sam shrieked, rubbing his hands down his side. From behind him, a blonde girl appeared laughing, her mouth hanging open as she wheezed. “I hate you.” Sam grimaced and Jo tried to poke his side again.
When Charlie had a full view of Jo, her heart stopped. Jo was damn gorgeous - with rosy, round cheeks and wide brown eyes, she looked so kind and innocent. But the wild grin on her face and fierce spark in her eye made her seem exciting, adventurous. Charlie felt her knees weakening as Jo strutted over to her.
“Jo Harvelle, step-sister to this nerd,” she greeted, jabbing her thumb in Sam’s direction. “I’m the singer in the band, are you staying for the gig?”
“Uhh, yeah, Sam invited me,” Charlie nodded along with her. “I’m Charlie, by the way.” Jo pulled her into a hug, patting her twice on the back like Dean did with Sam.
“Jo, hurry up, our set starts in like five minutes,” Dean yelled. Winking, Jo jumped up onto the stage and waved to Sam and Charlie.
Sam headed off towards the bar, where his Mom and Ellen were both already busy serving drinks. Still, when Sam walked over his Mom dropped what she was doing and shuffled over to them. She had a kind smile on her face, reminding Charlie of an angel.
“Hey, Sammy,” she poured him a glass of coke, then moved on to pouring Charlie one. “You’re Charlie, I’m guessing. I’m Mary - Sam’s Mom - and this is Ellen, his step-Mom.” Handing over the glasses, Mary went to go serve someone beer in a plastic cup. Then she came straight back to talk to Sam again.
“Hey Mom, Charlie just met Dean, he tried to hit on her,” Sam laughed, taking a sip of his soda.
“Not the sibling I was hoping for,” Charlie muttered, mostly to her self but Sam still heard her. His eyes widened and his jaw hung open. She could see he was about to say something but the lights went down and a spotlight flashed onto the stage.
A guitar riff started up, a quiet steady rhythm, before bass joined in and then drums swiftly followed. Then Jo started singing, voice gritty and perfect for the song. Charlie jumped up and down in excitement, surprised at how good they actually sounded. The song was something Charlie recognised as You Me At Six, and grinned as the beat sped up.
As the song came to an end, Jo took the microphone off of the stand.
“The next song is dedicated to Sam’s friend Charlie, it’s called The Shipped Gold Standard!” She called into the microphone, and pointed Charlie out in the crowd. Again, Charlie’s heart stopped, so amazed that Jo liked her too.
She turned to face Sam, who lounged against the bar with a smug smirk. He took another sip of his coke, pretending Charlie wasn’t staring at him. When the glass left his lips, he looked at Charlie with raised eyebrows.
“You set us up!” Charlie accused. “You only brought me here because you knew I’d like Jo!“
"What can I say, I’m a sucker for a happy ending,” Sam shrugged.
“Well played, Winchester, well played,” Charlie grumbled, angrily taking a sip of her soda. Mary started to snicker behind the counter.
Glancing back to the band, Charlie could see Jo watching them as she sung. Charlie could get used to being serenaded.