She's Thunderstorms

Chapter Five

It had been six months since that night in Chicago. The morning after I hadn't woken up with a hangover, but more of a looming feeling of nostalgia and wistful sentimentality. The night in case had only ended less than twelve hours before, but it seemed a lifetime away, like a dream just out of my reach. 

Due to the feeling of blissful languor that seemed to encase me towards the end of that fateful night, along with a bit of an alcohol buzz, I never made the effort to make sure I would be staying in touch with my new friends. I was too concentrated on the here-and-now, wanting to savor every moment. 

The boys had stood basking under the light glow that the street lamps provided, and the hum of smooth jazz blended into the background noise of the city as our yellow cab pulled away from the sidewalk. The thought that my connection to the band would end at this exact moment in time didn't occur to me until only a few minutes after I had awoken, turning my happy memories into ones of melancholy.

I didn't dare ask Charlie for their contact information. If they wanted to contact me, they would. After all, they had been on the road for months, and they were going on to bigger and better things. They wouldn't have time to stay in touch with me. I also feared that being rejected would only ruin the perception I had of them, since they were still one of my favorite bands. That one night held memories that could supply me for a lifetime, so I just left the situation as it was. 

It had been six months and I hadn't heard a word from the guys. Charlie hadn't said much about them either. I wasn't expecting much, so I wasn't too hurt; I understood. 

It was now February, and I was fully settled into school at UCLA. My classes were going great. 

Let it be known that California scenery is the perfect setting for an English major. You go one way, and you get the dry, mysterious, yet still beautiful desert. You go another, and you get the sparkling ocean and the sounds of seagulls and waves crashing on the sand. 

Everywhere you looked, you could draw inspiration from something. Not to mention, I was getting some great shots on my camera. I had already held a photography exhibition for my photos along with some other students from one of my classes. 

One of my favorite parts of Los Angeles was the music scene. While Chicago's music scene took on more of a punk or garage rock form, Los Angeles' was more laid back and diverse. 

Speaking of music (and a certain special band), the Arctic Monkeys were playing at the Troubadour in West Hollywood tonight. I was going, of course, along with a few other people from my dorm residence hall. I was excited beyond belief. 

At first, it was just going to be me closest friend Beth and I, but Beth, being the social butterfly that she is, ended up inviting two guys from the floor below us, Sam and Dylan. Beth has had a thing going for Dylan for a few weeks now, and as she wasn't a huge fan of the band, saw the concert as an opportunity for a possible hook up, and took advantage of it. 

Sam was one of Dylan's good friends, and I knew he liked the Arctic Monkeys because we had struck up a conversation on orientation day when I saw him wearing a shirt with the band's logo on it. For this reason, I was glad he was coming with, so I could have someone to really enjoy the concert with. 

Sam was from a surf town up the coast. He was one of those all-around guys that seemed to be too perfect to be true. Although he was a little bit shy at first, upon talking to him for a while, I found him to be a really nice guy with a great sense of humor. It didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes either. 

However, while Sam and I were friendly towards each other, I wasn't really looking for anything other than a fellow Arctic Monkeys fan in him, and he didn't seem to be into me that way either. Once you found someone who had the same taste in music as you, you had to make sure you kept them around.