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"Why are you making me do this?" Marinette whined with a withering look at her heels. Never mind the fact that she had started it. Rose was too tenacious to let her drop something as important as true love, even potential true love. She never should have said anything.
Rose pulled her head out of Marinette's closet with her hands full of potential options. "It's good for you! You started something, so we should finish it."
"All we have accomplished is wasting perfectly good outfits and overpaying for drinks three weekends in a row. I don't feel like getting dressed up for no reason."
"Fine."
Marinette swallowed hard. That was the worst 'fine' she'd ever heard. She trusted Rose with a lot of things, but giving up on love wasn't one of them. If only she hadn't mentioned one key detail…
"What? Why?"
Rose handed her the mobile with the club number prominently displayed.
"Call them. Ask about the customers. I'll call the next, and you can call the one after that. Be specific. If we find a reason to go out, we do, but if not, I guess we can stay in tonight."
She was afraid to ask. "And tomorrow?"
Rose shrugged, but her eyes were sparkling gleefully. "We do it all again!"
Marinette groaned. Why hadn't she been brave enough to talk to him the first time she saw him? Because she was a walking disaster, that's why.
He'd been hot on stage, but nothing had prepared her for the way he moved through the crowd before finding an open barstool. His gait was smooth and languid, like a snake weaving through sun-kissed grasses.
Blue tipped his hair and caught the light as he slipped cash across the bar with an easy smile. He tossed back a shot with such an easy grace that it was all she could do to keep from fanning herself like a dime novel debutante.
It had been ages since Marinette found herself so smitten, but here she was, unable to take her eyes off the hot guitar player whose name she had missed due to her fashionable perpetual lateness.
'Order a drink. Ask his name. Give your number. It's not that hard.' Not that she knew how to listen to herself. And Alya, who definitely would have shoved her his way, had bailed to help Lila with an emergency, and Rose was volunteering at the hospital like she did every other Saturday night.
She was flying solo, and she was her own worst wingwoman. The thought of relaying the story of her cowardice was enough to get her to her feet. With a measured breath, she took two steps toward the bar before freezing.
A stunningly gorgeous woman, who moved as fluidly as he had, slipped into his space, giving him a quick hug before snagging the seat next to him.
They looked good together. Blue tips danced under the light while her long tresses ended in a vibrant purple that seemed to kiss the darkness surrounding her.
Marinette shifted her weight, moving forward but away from the couple and to the other end of the bar. The last thing she needed was competition.
She ordered something she could sip—the one time she'd tried to 'shoot' something had ended in embarrassment she wasn't willing to repeat—and tried to watch the guitarist and his 'friend' surreptitiously.
After only a few minutes, she was pretty sure they were just friends, or possibly relatives. They were affectionate, but not clingy or touchy. Once she'd caught him discreetly pointing someone out, only for the girl to wrinkle her nose and shake her head. By the time Marinette finished her drink, both had been laughing with an easy, unaffected familiarity.
When he caught her eye as she set down her empty cocktail glass, she nearly melted at the smile he sent her way. Maybe she could say something. She reached for her purse to pay for her drink when he winked at her. It was too much. She felt a blush blaze across her face as she upset her glass, sending it crashing behind the bar. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she flung a few more bills to cover the glass and nearly hit the floor trying to flee her seat, the bar, and her embarrassment at the same time. Marinette had run, hopped on her scooter without a backward glance, and regretted it from that moment on. His smile still haunted her dreams weeks later.
Rose was staring at her earnestly. "We are going to find them—him! I've got numbers for ten pubs with live music lined up. Once we know where to go, I'm going to distract his friend while you get your flirt on, and it's all going to be rainbows and happily ever afters. Okay?"
Rose wouldn't give up in a million years, and not just because she thought Marinette needed to talk to the hot guitarist, but because she thought his friend sounded absolutely dreamy. Marinette had worked for two days on a sketch of the pair to show Rose after it had happened, and her friend had all but swooned, swearing she wouldn't marry anyone but the violet-haired goth girl. She had already planned a dozen double dates.
Marinette nodded—half hope, half resignation —and dialed the first number. Recon. She could handle recon. At least no one could see her make a fool of herself over the phone.
Ring! Ring!
"Blue Danube."
This should be the most awkward conversation of her life, but it was just another drop in a large bucket of Marinette's never-ending awkwardness.
"Hi! Um, could you do me a quick favor? Are there any hotties in tonight? Preferably with blue hair? Maybe playing guitar?"
"Uh, sorry mademoiselle, but this isn't a dating service."
"Sorry, sorry! I know! I'm just trying to decide which pub to hit tonight, and I would appreciate a little incentive."
She heard a deep sigh, which made her feel a little bad, but she was still glad that she wasn't the one doing the cursory check before walking back out.
"Sorry. No blue hair. We've got a decent-looking blonde and a couple of brunettes—I'd give them a six to eight."
Marinette repressed a sigh of her own, "Thanks for checking!" She hung up without further ado and held the phone out to Rose.
"No dice. Your turn."
Rose grinned and snatched the phone. Marinette had always been impressed and awed by her friend's irrepressibility.
"Hi! I heard you have live music tonight! What can you tell me about the band?"
Rose's smile was bright and authentic, as if she were talking to a friend instead of begging for intel. Marinette envied her easygoing affability almost as much as she wished she weren't so clumsy. She had a lot of good things going for her and could shine in her areas of interest, but her frequent anxiety often left her feeling tongue-tied and doubly left-footed.
"Ooooh! That sounds fabulous! Is it crowded tonight? Yeah? Could you do me a favor and tell me if there are any hot guys or girls with blue or purple hair in the crowd tonight?"
Rose giggled so infectiously that Marinette found herself joining in without even knowing why. "You could say that I have a bit of a craving, I guess. I'm a girl who knows what she wants!"
Marinette sighed when Rose pouted. Although she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to get hauled down to a pub if they did find him.
"Well, thanks anyway. Have a great night!"
Marinette took the phone with a grumble. "You should make all of the calls— you're so much better at it!"
Rose shook her head, but she was grinning. "Nuh-uh. I'd rather check them out in person. This is a compromise."
When they didn't get any bites after nearly a dozen calls, Marinette was only too happy to leave Rose to make the last call while she crawled into her pj's so they could put on a movie. Her heart sank when Rose squealed.
"Eeeeee! Really?! Thank you!!"
Rose danced across the floor with a twirl that sent her phone flying to the pile of clothes seconds before she got there herself. She snatched a red satin bustier top and shoved it her way.
"Wear the red with your darkest jeans and flats."
Marinette brightened at the instructions. "No heels?"
Rose shook her head. "I'm wearing the heels tonight."
"Movie night tomorrow?" Marinette begged.
"Promise! Unless we both have dates!" Rose answered with a giggle and a wink.
Rose opted for a blue halter that brought out her eyes, and Marinette had to admit they both looked good. She had pulled her black hair up high, showcasing long silver earrings and leaving her neck exposed. Rose's blond locks were teased into artful curls that made her look like an avenging angel, and Marinette knew she would turn heads wherever she went. If only she had that kind of confidence.
The music was electric, flowing through Marinette the moment they stepped into the club. It was easier for her to move with a beat to guide her steps, and she forced herself to work her way through the room to the bar to order a drink before looking around. Rose didn't have the same restraint and tugged on Marinette's arm with a squeal.
"Is that them? Oh my gosh, it has to be. She's gorgeous."
Marinette looked where Rose was pointing, none too subtly, and felt her legs go weak while her heart pounded in her chest. It was him, them, and he was just as good-looking as her dreams remembered. Hotter even.
She caught the edge of her bottom lip when a slow, sultry smile spread across his face. When he held up a finger as if to ask her to wait, she found she couldn't move.
"You didn't say he was into you!!" Rose squeaked at her side.
"I said he winked."
Rose giggled. "Well, I don't think you need me to distract his friend, but I need me to distract his friend. See you later!"
She was off, ducking and weaving her way smoothly through the crowd before Marinette could beg her to stay. But then the blue-haired guitarist was standing in front of her.
"Hey."
"Hi." She could feel her face pinkening in a blush, but as soon as she looked towards the door, he caught her arm lightly.
"Please don't run." His voice was low and pleading, and suddenly she didn't want to flee anymore. "I haven't been able to get you out of my head since I first saw you."
The thudding of her heart seemed to slow in anticipation. "Wha—really?"
"Really."
"I came here looking for you," Marinette admitted softly.
That soft smile was back, and Marinette was prepared to drown in it.
He released her arm and held out his hand. "Dance with me?"
She nodded and took his hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor, where he pulled her close.
A glance at Rose told her she was totally caught up in her new friend and was completely ignoring her on the dance floor.
"Any chance your friend is into bubbly blonds?" She asked pointedly.
He glanced toward the bar for just a second before returning his attention to her. "Juleka is my sister, and yes, your friend has a shot. I'm Luka, and definitely interested in you…?"
"Marinette."
He pulled her closer, shifting their weight easily to the pulsing music while he tried her name. "Marinette. I like that."
She smiled at him. "Luka has a nice ring to it, too."
Rose had been right. Some things, like love or even potential love, were worth a little effort.