Linda's POV
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Coffee filled the air with the clinks of glasses and petite applauds toward the front of the room where John sat with a microphone to his lips and a guitar in his hands.
"Thank you, I know how exhausting it can be to hear another artist who's just scraping by play their depressing revolutionary shit." He smirks, looking towards me before turning back to the strings and tuning them slightly again to get the exact sound.
I could watch him for hours, really. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water and I can hear him just humming tunes from our childhood. But my eyes can't stop looking behind the bar where the other art is happening. It looks like Rory is talking to Maureen, and Maureen rolled her eyes to something Rory said, walking in the back. I can't help but sit on my hands, my foot anxiously tapping the vibrant carpet. Soon she emerges in a green sweater and simple bellbottoms, with only a little bit of makeup on.
"What happened to the get up? I thought you liked wearing all black and that?" I asked, seeing her cover her face with woolen hands.
"I just really didn't feel like it, too tired. You ready?"
"Yeah, let's go."
I grab my bag and we head out into the frigid weather. I wrap my arm around her shoulder, feeling it bounce with our footsteps. The wind blows her hair out of her beautiful face, her soft cheeks shimmering with blush.
"What were you planning on looking for?" I make simple conversation while readjusting my purse on my shoulder.
"I'm not really sure, yet. I haven't gone shopping in so long." She looks down at her freshly trimmed nails and tapped them against her jeans before holding the door open for me at the first shop. Mumbling a 'thank you' and surveying the room, I find some halter tops on a rack that are probably left overs from the closing season and skipping over to them. I've been in need of some new summer tops since the ones that I have are starting to grow a bit out of age for me. I have had them since I was nineteen, so it feels right for something different. The Velvet Underground is playing as white noise. I look over to see Mo braiding her luscious hair from behind, tying the end with an orange ribbon.
"You doing anything next month?" She walks over to me. I laugh a bit, pulling out a top with daisies on them.
"Why next month specifically?"
"I got tickets to a concert for this band that I like and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? I just thought it would be something fun since we're always both so busy with work so the times we do get to hang out are very slim." She catches a glimpse of my slight grimace, refusing to hear me out. "C'mon, it'll be fun."
"I dunno, Mo. I'm in if it's not on actual Christmas because I have to visit my family and they're kind of adamant about that stuff. And I know your mom will probably demand to have you home." I warned her to much avail, leaving that once freshened, lively spirit to once again, drop her soul.
"N-Nevermind then, forget that I even asked. It was idiotic, I know." placing a hand on her shoulder, Mo let's out a small, weighted expulsion of air. Seeing her so torn to bits like this makes me sad. All she wants in life is to live life to the fullest. Who am I to get in the way of that? Besides, I guess a little fun in the city wouldn't hurt.
"I'll go with you. It does sound like fun, and if you are excited about it, then I'm in too." A flash of light pinged in our vision, a drum roll of thunder soon after. I looked over to Maureen who mirrored my concerned look before smirking and going back to throwing articles of clothing left, right and behind her. Catching my eye on a very delicate blouse, I had to pull it out. It had a blackberry color palette with a lower bust line and sleeves reminiscent of the thirties, the volume growing towards the bottom of the arm but still neatly cuffed with buttons for closures, matching the front design. I lay it on my chest, rolling up my sleeve to see how it looks with my skin tone.
