Broken

Barefoot (Clark)

The beginning chords to a slow song began rolling out over the audience. People grabbed onto one another and swayed side to side. I couldn't find Sarah so I made my way to the back of the room, letting out a breath I hadn't known I was holding in.

I searched for Sarah's blonde head, but to no avail. She was lost to the crowd. My shoulders slumped and I collapsed against a wall. I could feel the weight of everything coming back. Slowly pushing me down. I was unstrapping my tall black heels, when all of a sudden I heard the most angelic voice. It melted against me. I wanted to drink the melody that poured out from him. The notes danced around, daring me to find their source. I looked up and spotted him gripping his microphone between steady hands. 

His olive skin glowed beneath the blue lights, and his curls fell softly around his bandana like a halo. He hadn't sung like this in the other songs. There was a new roughness to his voice that drew me in. I studied his face and noticed the twinkle of tears in his eyes. I couldn't remember his name, but each lyric he sang carried a weight that lingered in the air around me. I couldn't explain it, but the sadness in his voice seeped into me. It intertwined with my own dark and dreaded emotions, pulling them up as it rose within me. I felt myself fall into the feeling, letting his voice drown me in my own emotions. 

I realized I had been lost in his voice, when I felt his piercing green eyes reflect mine. His gaze swept over my small figure, taking it in like a breath of air. There was a brief moment of uncertainty as if he was scared of what he was seeing, but it soon shifted to concern. His perfect eyebrows drew together, and he studied me with his full attention.  To my surprise, despite the sea of people between us, his lips moved in silence asking

you okay?

I paused for a moment, and my eyes lowered to the ground. He was pitying me. How could I be so stupid to think anything else. I was broken, and that's all I would ever be to anyone. That's all I was to myself. I turned towards the door, but his voice, that stupid angelic voice, cut through the air again. My lashes swept up as I met his emerald eyes. They pleaded me to stay. Begging me to fill the void of loneliness. My face softened as I realized that he wasn't pitying me. He understood my pain because he felt the same deep down. I nodded and without moving my eyes from his, made my way back towards the bar. 

The more I watched him on stage, the more I saw my own sadness reflected in his movements. He smiled, and waved to the crowd, but each smile faltered at the edges, and each wave fell short of the enthusiasm his bandmates had. He was hurting, and no one could see it. 

The show was coming to an end, and I was contently resting against the bar with a glass of god knows what in my hand. My bare feet dangled off of the stool I was sitting on, and I nodded my head along to the beat. The last chords of another song drifted off and the crowd hollered in approval. The older, scruffier band member, Louis I think, walked to the center of the stage

"Thank you all so much for coming. We are truly honored to have played for you all." He paused for a moment

"For this last song, we want to bring up one of you fine folks on stage. " The crowd let out a collective gasp and then screamed in excitement. His eyes scanned the crowd..

"PICK ME YA LOUSER!" 

someone screamed at the top of their lungs. I giggled at their fervor. He laughed too, shaking his head. His eyes finally rested on someone in the front. He started to ask them to come up, but he was cut off by a deep voice. Even when he spoke it seemed to run through me like a hot wave. With his eyes trained on me he asked

"How about the lovely lady in the back?" I froze. He couldn't be talking to me. I met his gaze, as if to question whether this was real or not. His emerald eyes swept over my body, leaving a trail of fire. He nodded in assurance and beckoned me with his hand forward. Louis looked over at him in confusion, but he hardly even noticed. Heads turned and the crowd parted, making a path. My heart fluttered as I put my drink down and started towards the stage. I drew in a breath, and passed through the crowd. He never moved his eyes from mine. His mouth was slightly turned up in a mischievous smile. I reached the front of the stage, where his hand was outstretched. His gaze burned fanatically, and he cocked an eyebrow, daring me to grab on. My breath caught in my throat. Up close he was even more beautiful. I placed my small hand into his palm. I let out a small, practically silent, gasp at the feeling of his skin against mine. He carefully closed his fingers around mine and effortlessly lifted me up onto the stage. The crowd applauded at the successful maneuver. I looked down at his hand still wrapped around mine and then out at the audience jumping around. I felt him lean down. He paused for a moment, lips inches from my ear,

"darling, why are you barefoot?" he mused in his husky english accent. I leaned back slightly so that my head was against his chest and looked up at him. I smiled in amusement, and pulled my hand from his. I let my fingers graze the outer edge of his thigh.

"because I didn't know I would be on stage tonight" I whispered back. He didn't look phased, and instead pushed up his sleeves and brought the microphone up to his mouth. He started saying something to the audience, but I didn't hear it. My eyes were locked on his now bare arms. The tattoos. The black ink that curled like delicate smoke across his skin. Him. He was the one on the subway. 

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Soooo Intense. I. LOVE. IT. 

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