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Columbina yanks the microphone away from her stand, stepping a bit closer to the edge of the stage.
The pit of people below gravitate to the charismatic singer. Brushing the cold microphone closer to her glossed lips, she asks for the crowd’s energy, prompting a wave of screams as she bends her knees. Her hand reaches out, holding people's hands or high-fiving them for a mere second until the chorus calls her back to the centre.
The stage is thrilling to stand on. Columbina's body sways into the loud pattern of the snare and kick drum, feeling herself by tracing her jaw from her neck to her exposed collarbone with her finger. Harbouring high-pitch screams and howls that Columbina can only chuckle away from her mic as she glanced at her band mates.
Ajax rolls his eyes, focusing tentatively on his guitar solo as Columbina yells out his name to the crowd, The screech of rifts amplifying from the speaker fascinates them, earning some whistles. Columbina grabs her microphone stand and places it a bit closer to the tall bassist.
Arlecchino strums in deep vibrations, providing stability to the rhythm as the guitarist makes his shining moment. The drummer hits the snares, as the music completely comes to a fake stop. Before hitting the cymbals, a cue for everyone to come back as Columbina sings the last chorus.
The crowd pit enjoyed the fake stop, bodies closing to each other as they groove to the beat. Arms raised to the rhythm, or holding onto their drinks tightly as they don't bump too hard on anyone. Columbina can feel the trickle of sweat on her back, and her bangs being affected by the humidity of the venue.
Columbina lets out a long note, a bit higher than her normal range, yet it sounds full with no frail. The crowd responds in excitement, she smiles hard as she finishes the last long.
"Thank you everyone!" Her voice excites the crowd one more time, bowing down as the instruments let out a prolonged ending to conclude their set list. Columbina's band mates begin to wave back to the crowd, chanting for an encore. The singer can cutely put her hands together, mouthing out "next time" as they slowly put their instruments away.
Lights dim despite some protests from the pit, a clear signal to the crowd that their set-list is over. A voice of the emcee hollers out, catching the crowd's attention as Arlecchino and Ajax disconnect their instruments from their amps, Thrain waiting near the curtain leading to backstage.
Columbina attaches the microphone back to the stand, and her eyebrows perk up at a small pink smear printed on the black foam. She looks far at the stage system at the back, locking into blue-eyes that are filled with concentration at the stage. An eyebrow arched, wondering why the singer is still on-stage.
The singer mouths out one word slowly, "Sorry."
Columbina can only sheepishly smile when their eye contact breaks, a shaking revelation appears in the sound technician's face, rolling her eyes in disbelief. The technician knew Columbina did something. Sharing a similar expression of a naive puppy, Columbina hopes that she wouldn't get scolded for it. However, it will be the technician's responsibility to take care of the lipstick mark on the microphone.
The girl's head lower, not wanting to meet eyes with the impish singer, she signals with her hand to Columbina to go backstage.
"I will talk with you later."
Columbina didn't see the girl mouthing out those words back at her.
However, the glares in her blue eyes tells her otherwise. Along with an exaggerated groan from the corner of her pink eyes, she smiles at the irritation of the girl's eyebrows as she turns away.
She finally grabbed her attention.
Columbina finds herself with a drink in hand, swirling the bittersweet taste in her glass. She takes another sip, feeling the scent of alcohol take over her senses. An impromptu hick escaped her lips, catching their band mates by a surprise in their mid-conversation.
"Aww, I hear someone is getting tipsy."
"Oh, speak for yourself Ajax," Rosalyne holds her wine glass with elegance, "your face is already red
"It's okay Rosalyne. I will be driving Scaramouche and Ajax home since I didn't plan on drinking."
"Oh thank you! My designated driver Thrain! Heh… that means I can still drink a bit more. Scara, which drink should I get?"
"Do not put your arms around me," Scaramouche moves away from Ajax's arm circling around his neck, "and another drink? You are ridiculous..."
"Hmm… I haven't taken a shot yet."
"Can you stop using me as your support beam?"
Thrian sighs, glancing back at the girls, "I think I will be watching over those two for now. If I don't see you guys again then goodnight, make sure you three get home safely."
"Goodnight Thrian, and make sure Ajax isn't sitting in the front seat." Arlecchino finishes her glass of water, "We don't want another scare like last time."
"Go take care of those boys, we will have our little ladies night out here."
"Goodbye Thrain," Columbina waves him off, watching him walk over to the bar, already raising her voice at Ajax.
"So…" Rosalyne's voice linger for a bit.
Arlecchino and Rosalyne give each other a mutual look. A look that in Columbina's tipsy state, she has trouble in understanding. Columbina inhales into the smell, finishing her glass which Arlecchino quickly grabs out of her hand.
"No more drinks for you."
"Why not?" Columbina's voice comes out whiny, her fingers fidgeting with each other. A habit that Rosalyne easily spots, her eyes directing Arlecchino to something that Columbina couldn't quite catch. Columbina feels her temper rising bit by bit, was it from the alcohol or her friends being secretive again?
The singer knows she's being cornered by the band manager, with the band bassist assisting her. If she didn't had gulped down two drinks already, she would have easily slither herself away from their claws. Columbina ends up getting pulled to sit down in a chair. They sat a bit further from the stage, Columbina's defeated eyes watch the other two sit in front of her.
There is no room where she could escape and not get caught by their hands.
Columbina curses, why are they doing it now?
"Columbina," Rosalyne pauses on her words for a moment, "is something on your mind?"
"No…?"
"You know we are here for you Columbina," Arlecchino crosses her legs underneath the table, as she inches a bit closer, "take your time."
"Ugh…"
Columbina grumbles, her head planted onto the cold surface. She knows she can trust them. But, given how much she drinks, she doesn't want to slip anything out right now. Her head is now cushioned by her arms, turning her head to face at the wall. She continues to sigh, leaving her friends to wait to say anything.
"You already know about it…"
"Know what Columbina?" Rosalyne asks, despite her tone giving away that she knows. "What is it that we already know?"
Columbina can smell the trap.
Rosalyne knows.
Arlecchino knows.
The rest of the band probably knows.
And Columbina?
"I don't want to say…" Columbina murmurs, feeling a pool of heat rising from her skin. "I'm not sober enough for this conversation."
Rosalyne smiles with an all-knowing smirk, "at least we know she isn't too drunk right, Arlecchino?"
"I think that's better than a crying Columbina."
"I don't cry when I get drunk…"
Columbina could melt herself in a puddle, her weak words doesn't deny the accusation. Her friends giggle at her state, and Columbina continues to grumble off. Giving them the silent treatment, which left the other two to talk between themselves, regularly checking up on their tipsy singer if she's still awake.
Columbina notices her body is ready to doze off. However, she tries to keep awake, focusing on the loud atmosphere of the place, Arlecchino and Rosalyne's interesting conversation about their majors, the music of another band, and the crowd enjoying it. Everywhere is loud, but yet her body can still block all of it.
"…"
"Columbina?"
"…"
Arlecchino taps on the singer's head, no response.
"…"
"Oh wow." Rosalyne speaks, "You weren't joking around about Columbina being able to fall asleep in the loudest places."
"It's another talent she has."
"…"
"Hmm. It looks like the night is wrapping up."
"Do you want me to drive her Rosalyne?"
"…I have a better plan, Arlecchino."
"What is it—"
"Let me grab her real quick."
The air no longer smells of alcohol or sweat.
A refreshing floral scent catches the singer's nose.
She's no longer at the event, and it didn't smell like her room.
"Sorry." The voice is calm, carrying a trace of exhaustion. "It will take like 10 minutes until we reach your house."
Columbina groans, tilting her head against something hard, feeling a breeze of cold air onto her face. She's in a car. But, it didn't smell like the bassist's car. Her eye slowly opens, her face is scrunched as she turns over to face the driver.
Sandrone. The sound technician, driving her back home.
How did that happen?
"Sandrone…?"
"Rosalyne asked me to drive you." Sandrone states, clearing any misunderstandings. "She told me that it would be easier if I drove you home since your place is close to where I live."
"Oh…" Columbina whispers.
"Thanks."
"Y-You're welcome."
The ride is quiet for another few minutes.
Columbina didn't know what to say. The alcohol made her quiet and drowsy. It's the singer's first time being in Sandrone's car, and being driven by Sandrone? Rosalyne is sly for setting this up, knowing how Columbina feels, and especially since she’s not sober.
Columbina trembles a bit. The air condition made her more cold, and the warmth of alcohol in her stomach is slowly disappearing. She didn't have the voice to tell the driver to lower the temperature. However, she feels a blow of warm air coming out instead.
"You know you could have said something if you felt cold."
Sandrone glances at her passenger, a conflicted expression as the words from her mouth lack any bite. Columbina stretches sluggishly, trying to wake herself up, but feeling her drowsiness is winning this round. She hugs herself, and her eyes remain closed.
"Thank you."
Sandrone sighs, not understanding the uncommon bashfulness of the singer.
"You are acting… a bit off."
"Am I?"
"Well someone responded quickly." Sandrone huffs, her hands grip a bit tightly onto the wheel.
"It sounded like you had something to say." Columbina sits herself up, feeling the car become warmer.
"Well… About that lipstick mark on the microphone earlier."
"It's my mistake, I'm sorry."
Sandrone sighs, not buying it, "This isn't the first time you leave a lip stain on the microphone."
"I know." Columbina stops herself from saying any further.
Sandrone's expression looks confused, "Hm? You are not gonna say anything after that?"
"I think…"
Columbina loses her words as she gets a better view of her driver.
A black hoodie that hugged her torso loosely, black-rimmed glasses that hid small dark circles under her eyes. Her beige hair no longer tied into a bun, a few strands sticking out as her hair is let down. Columbina continues to stare with carelessness—
"Hey." Sandrone grabs her attention instead. "My eyes may be on the road, but I can feel your stare Columbina."
"R-Right." Columbina directs her vision back to the road, noticing familiar streets.
They didn't speak anymore, leaving only sounds of the car's engine and vents blowing warm air. The singer's body warms up, no longer shivering slightly, easily relaxing to the quietness. However, her body anticipates for Sandrone to say anything to her.
Sandrone remains silent after noticing Columbina shivering in her car. Her eyes fixated on the road as the streetlights outside can only give so much guidance at midnight. Close lips and tightening jaw, a quick and small sniff, her sleeve brushing against her nose. However, she still doesn't give any attention to her passenger.
Columbina couldn't help herself in taking careful glances. Her brain is still intoxicated by a few drinks, and her eyes keep wandering at Sandrone's face. She wishes to bring her fingers to grasp onto Sandrone's hoodie, and inhale her scent. But, Columbina doesn't wish to confuse her and her selfish indulgence.
After all, she is the one who started this awkward mess.
Eventually the car rolls slowly into park at the side. Her apartment complex is at the side, and Columbina unbuckles herself. The cold breeze outside almost sobers her, but she feels herself gagging as she stands. An awful sound left her mouth, and she put her palm against her mouth.
"Hey." Sandrone closes her door, keys shackling in her pocket, "don't move so quickly."
Sandrone holds onto her arm, secure and strong, enabling Columbina to stand up fully. The distant coldness of the sound technician becomes warm, their bodies touching each other. Columbina dug her nails onto Sandrone's shoulder for support, causing the girl's brows to knit.
Columbina mumbles under her breath, "I'm sorry."
Sandrone's hand ends up on Columbina's waist, "Don't apologize. I don't like hearing it."
The gesture is far too careful for Columbina to fully enjoy it.
Sandrone has always been cautious, and unknowingly too tuned on other people's feelings for someone who mostly focuses on themselves. A withdrawn personality that Columbina wants to put a leash on. Pulling the girl closer, and closer so she couldn't run away. A recurring thought of wanting Sandrone keeps pounding on her head, but she remains quiet.
Her emotions slowly come to a high by Sandrone's gentleness as they enter the complex. Sandrone remains a secure hold onto her figure as they enter the elevator.
"Floor number?"
"Five…"
"Okay."
There is no one in the elevator.
Columbina's hand clutch onto the hem of Sandrone's hoodie. The singer is faced down, not wanting to look at the blinding lights above her. It made her more queasy, especially with Sandrone still supporting her drunken state. She couldn't force herself into small talk, fearing it would scare the younger girl who is holding onto her body.
The idea of Sandrone helping her drunken state is embarrassing. But, for it to be real?
Columbina would rather have Sandrone hear her sing a thousand love songs, and be painfully obvious that every love song is directed to her. Then her emotions spill raw at any moment, her lips are more pink as she bites in that thought.
"Which one is your door?"
"514."
"Mmm. I see it. Where are your keys?"
"H-Here…" Columbina pulls out her keys from her jean pocket. "W-Wait… Where is my bag—"
"I'm wearing it." Sandrone soothes in the panic look in Columbina's eyes, "I was going to call you out that you almost forgot it. But you almost stumbled— so I just wore it instead."
Columbina didn't even notice her white hand bag was on Sandrone's shoulder. "T-Thanks. I just didn't even realize—"
"Like I said, no need." Sandrone stops her from saying anything.
The door opens, leaving a cue for Sandrone to leave.
"I-I'll be going now." Sandrone lets go of her.
"Wait." Columbina still holding onto her black hoodie.
She is uncertain. She doesn't know why she said that to Sandrone.
Columbina should have let her go.
She is in no state to say anything more—
"Okay." Sandrone sighs, her cold hand grasps onto Columbina's wrist.
Her blue eyes staring at Columbina, asking her, waiting for her to say anything.
"Columbina… you are drunk." Sandrone states.
"I know." Her hands feverishly grip onto the girl's side, feeling the soft fabric of the hoodie. "I know that I am."
Columbina can only question her actions in her head. She can feel the hard stare that she's been trying to avoid, making her feel small. The fidgeting continues, and Sandrone doesn't stop her aching fingers clutching onto her black hoodie.
The singer's intention in grabbing Sandrone's attention is a success.
But, she feels awfully vulnerable in the hands of the girl. She would never vision herself to be in this situation. Her hands gripping onto Sandrone, only one thing crosses on her mind.
"I just… I just don't want you to leave." Columbina utters, feeling the heat of her neck rising.
"I… really don't understand you, Columbina."
"You keep giving me signals every time you perform. Leaving me confused on what you want from me. Always wanting to see me after you perform, and then push me away until I'm close to understanding what you want." Sandrone uncovers Columbina's intentions bit by bit.
A hard swallow comes from her throat, "And now you're asking me not to leave?" Her voice is on edge, teetering between frustration and tolerance.
Columbina's voice tightens, "I-I'm sorry."
"I keep telling you. I don't want to hear it."
"O-Okay."
"Let's get you to bed." Sandrone slowly moves, forcing Columbina to walk backwards, maintaining her grip onto Sandrone's hoodie. "Hey, I'm not leaving yet… so you don't have to hold me tightly."
Columbina believes her somewhat. Her head snuggling onto Sandrone's shoulder as she feels her bed from the back of her legs. Sandrone's shoulders jolted for a moment, relaxing slowly as her arms wrapped around Columbina's waist. A taste of intimacy that both are unfamiliar to, and yet Columbina seeks it more in her tipsy, uncontrolled taste.
"Columbina."
"Hmm—?"
A force of gravity pushes her back onto her bed, Columbina eyes widen, merely crawling back against her wall. A glint of fear in her eyes, but she looks up to see hurt all over Sandrone's face. A whimper escapes from Columbina's lips, she hitches her breath on Sandrone's knees planted beside her hip. Trapping the singer even more, her hands positioned by Columbina's shoulder.
"What do you want from me?"
"Sandrone…"
"I'm asking you again." Sandrone grits her teeth. "What do you want from me Columbina?"
Columbina feels her heart pound harder. Her hands pressed against Sandrone's collarbone, she breathed hard, mind racing on what to respond. Sandrone waits, her eyes trailing at Columbina's eyes, noses, and lips. The anticipation makes both of their hearts race, and Sandrone's unexpected boldness leaves Columbina speechless.
"I-I…"
Columbina wraps her arm onto Sandrone's neck, catching her off guard as she almost loses balance. The singer reels her closer, wanting to feel the warmth of Sandrone's body. And, hiding the growing heat on her cheeks. "I don't think I should do this."
"W-What?"
"I am not sober." Columbina sniffs, her tears can no longer hide behind her eyes. "You don't deserve to hear it... when I am like this."
"What?" Sandrone exhales in disbelief, controlling her throat that almost reveals a chuckle. "Sorry. I just didn't expect that answer."
"No!" Columbina hits the girl's collarbone, "you don't want me confessing to you drunk!"
Columbina pulls harder, leaving Sandrone's body to be against hers. She can feel the girl trying to break away which upsets her even more. "See? This is why I should have let you go… You are going to run away again."
Sandrone stops herself, pushing herself slightly to see Columbina, tearing up, cheeks flustered as the shade of her eyes. A sight that fazes Sandrone, removing the frustration out of her system.
"Wait… I'm sorry. I— I didn't mean to upset you Columbina."
"You should have left me here to cry about my feelings!" Columbina starts kicking her feet against her sheets.
"H-Hey now…"
Sandrone rolls her body to the side, Columbina still clinging onto her desperately, despite being mad at her. Columbina cries, she feels hopeless and shameful of her words and actions. She shouldn't have let her selfish heart take over. This is the most irrational thing she has ever done. But, she holds onto Sandrone— scared of her leaving, scared of the reality she put on herself.
Curse her emotions, and curse her words.
"Sandrone…" Her lips quiver, closing her eyes as she holds onto the warmth.
A small brush against the singer's hair, slow circles are being rubbed on the side of her head. A small shush escaped from Sandrone lips, leaving Columbina to breathe erratically, needing to say something to her. But, Sandrone shuts her down, continuing to calm down the elevated emotions. Only when Columbina's breaths relaxed, Sandrone moved her hand onto the singer's cheek.
"You frustrate me, Columbina."
Sandrone inches her face closer, their foreheads touching. Columbina's eyes remain closed, uncertain on what is happening.
"You are so annoying." Sandrone dryly laughs, wiping the tear stains on Columbina's cheek.
"Always trying to flirt with me, and trying to get a reaction from me."
"You knew…?"
"I mean… It took me a bit to understand that you sometimes pretend that the microphone doesn't work. So I could personally come and change the microphone for you." Sandrone mutters, her voice softening as she looks at Columbina. "But, sometimes I can't tell if you are just playing with my heart."
Columbina curls herself into Sandrone's touch, mumbling her words. "Why would I play your heart?"
"You are charismatic, flirty, and… pretty."
"Mmm… I only like the last one."
Sandrone rolls her eyes, "you are so honest when you are drunk."
"Stop…" Columbina shifts closer to the crook of Sandrone's neck, "don't tease me."
"It's… cute."
"Stop it."
"What if I don't stop?"
"I will kick you out of my room."
"Can you?"
The question lingers in the air. Sandrone moves her arm back to Columbina's waist instead. Her hand no longer caressing Columbina's cheek, small unsatisfied whimpers compels Sandrone to pull her even closer.
"I guess the answer is no." Sandrone mutters.
Columbina eventually opened her eyes, still fearing that everything would crumble after this moment. That Sandrone would leave everything that happened tonight as a distant memory. Where Columbina has to own up to her intoxicated mess, ruining every chance in making Sandrone understand her feelings.
Her mixed up signals.
"Columbina…" Sandrone's eyes furrowed, not angrily, rather out of worry. "Why are you still crying?"
"Will you forget about this?" Columbina rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, looking at Sandrone's face with fear. "Will you just pretend this never happened?"
Sandrone closes the distance. Choosing to convey it with more touches than her words.
Columbina felt her tears flowing back, feeling a gentle peck against her cheek. She feels overwhelmed, another kiss pressed on her skin, and then another. It feels too tender, and Columbina can't help crying even more. She grips onto the back of Sandrone's, her fists trembling in each careful touch on her skin.
"Sandrone—"
"I won't." Sandrone expresses, her voice stern, and yet her lips are soft against Columbina's skin.
"How can I forget this?" Sandrone exhales, a quiet endearment under her breath.
Columbina's unsettled heart beats steadier, her fingers dug into Sandrone's back, pushing herself up to meet her lips against Sandrone's. A surprised sound surfaces out of Sandrone's mouth, the kiss leaves them quiet, but the signal is clear.
A tug on Columbina's waist, urging her to be closer. While her other hand is placed against Columbina's neck. Columbina's fingers find the hem of her hoodie again, brushing it up to feel the soft warm skin of Sandrone's waist.
Sandrone gasps at her cold hands, pushing herself away from Columbina's lips to take a quick breath. However, Columbina presses forward, needing her lips again, and feeling Sandrone trying to fight back each demanding kiss, traces of doubt escaping from their lips. Sandrone's eyes squint, looking for answers in Columbina's face.
A loud breath escaped from Columbina's lips, her neediness made her forget to take a breath. Columbina realizes that Sandrone's eyes are open, and a hint of worry flickers in her eyes, trembling lips as she looks away. It feels too good to be true. Despite drinking earlier, her throat feels dry as she hesitates.
The answer that Sandrone seeks for is no longer mix-in with flirts and unexplained tension.
It's through Columbina's eyes that beg for Sandrone to say anything. Her lips tremble, and the grip onto her body becomes tighter. Sandrone understands, even if Columbina couldn't say it.
Sandrone puts her lips back onto hers avidly, her fingers relish in the softness of Columbina's waist. Columbina whines, not understanding the sudden vigor of Sandrone's kiss. She tries to have the upper hand, but the hunger in each kiss intoxicates her. Columbina follows Sandrone's messy rhythm, hitting her softly against the back to slow down a bit.
Columbina pants, the wetness of her lips remain and the warmth of Sandrone's leaves briefly.
"Sorry… Was I going too hard?"
"No… no…" Columbina shakes her head, "It's just… it feels too real."
If Columbina could hear bliss in someone's laugh, she can hear it in Sandrone's.
"What are you saying?" Sandrone whispers, softly in the warm air.
"It is real Columbina."
Real.
Columbina's face brightened, breathing in the moment. "I like you… Sandrone."
"I… I thought I was going to say it first." Sandrone admits.
"What makes you think you would beat me to it?"
"You didn't say it earlier." Sandrone shrugs, "and I didn't want to force it out on you."
"But…" Columbina feels Sandrone's fingers outline her jaw. She tilts slightly, allowing her thumb to brush against her lips. "But… I wanted to hear it."
"So… you do like me?" Columbina asks.
"Don't tell me you're still confused…" Sandrone groans.
Columbina grips onto her wrist, stopping her from touching the edge of lips. "Just say it won't you?"
"Fine. I like you."
"Can you be a bit more romantic?"
Sandrone gives her another peck, Columbina giggles, snuggling closer to Sandrone. The warmth feels light in her heart, and she yawns. "I'm getting sleepy."
"Will you stay?" Columbina asks, her voice quieter, not wanting to sound needy.
"Mhm." Sandrone's fingers brushed a few strands away from Columbina's face.
They adjusted their bodies to be more comfortable in the bed.
Columbina ends up wearing Sandrone's hoodie after she complains of the heat. Their hands holding to each other, a clear insistence of Columbina's tipsiness playing with her head. Yet, Sandrone's arm is wrapped around her waist, closing the gap between them, comforting Columbina that she will be here.
"Sandrone…"
"I’m tired Columbina." Sandrone mumbles, “just go to bed.”
“Will you still be here when I wake up?”
Columbina looks up, blue eyes that are barely opening. “Yes…”
“Okay.” Columbina settles in, listening to the soft thumps of Sandrone’s heartbeat. Soft exhales carrying out the night, she sobers up the moment of Sandrone’s warmth and touch.
Columbina finally closes her eyes, pressing one last peck before resting in her arms.