When The Lights Go Down

Vice

With June staying with Gladys, the house feels eerily empty and quiet, and FP just can't seem to quiet the voices in his head. He's been trying to write out his feelings for days but comes up empty handed every time. There's so much he wants to say and yet he can't seem to bring it out.

So, in search of inspiration, he heads to the local cafe. It's a quiet place, usually not overly crowded, and a good place for him to calm his thoughts while he sips on a coffee. Though it's been years since he last visited and it seems like the place is more of a hotspot than he remembers.

He shuffles his way through the crowd of people, and orders a coffee the way he likes it, as his eyes drift around the place. It's still the exact same, but now almost every inch of the room is filled by people, nearly every table is taken, except for one tucked up right beside the stage. It's not an ideal spot, he'll have to cock his head to see anything going on on the stage, and he's bound to have a headache after sitting so close to the amp, but it's the only spot available so he takes it.

He's only there for a couple of minutes before cheering erupts and he's about to groan but he quickly finds that the cheering isn't for him. Instead it's for a striking blonde woman who's perching herself on a stool on stage. He's not sure what it is, can't put his finger on it, but there's something familiar about her, something that draws him in instantly.

"Hey guys, I hope you're not tired of me just yet." The woman jokes, her smile shining brightly, and FP finds himself smiling as well, her beam so contagious. "I have a little something special to play for you all, something I haven't shared with anyone yet, so be gentle." She shoots a wink to the crowd as her fingers begin to strum the strings of her guitar softly, like a natural.

Steady as a needle dropping on a vinyl
Neon singer with a jukebox title full of heartbreak

Her voice echoes hauntingly through the bar and sends a shiver down his spine, he knows this voice, and he's so in awe of it.

Thirty-three, forty-five, seventy-eight
When it hurts this good you gotta play it twice
Another vice

All dressed up in a pretty black label
Sweet salvation on a dining room table
Waiting on me, Where the numb meets the lonely
It's gone before it ever melts the ice

Her lyrics cut like a knife and he finds himself staring at her as she plays, unable to avert his gaze anywhere else. She plays like the strings are air, plucking so smoothly and easily, he's almost jealous.

Another vice, another call
Another bed I shouldn't crawl out of
At 7 AM with shoes in my hand
Said I wouldn't do it, but I did it again
And I know I'll be back tomorrow night, oh

The crowd hoots and hollers as she finishes out her first chorus, so enamoured by a song they've never even heard before, a testament to how talented the woman before him is. Hell, he doesn't know the song and yet he wants every single copy of it before she's even finished singing it.

I wear a town like a leather jacket
When the new wears off, I don't even pack it
If you need me, I'll be where my reputation don't proceed me
Maybe I'm addicted to goodbyes

That particular verse seems to have been especially raw to her, as her voice shakes when she sings it, but she pushes through, giving the song an emotional depth he hadn't quite expected.

Another vice, another town
Where my past can't run me down
Another life, another call
Another bed I shouldn't crawl out of
At 7 AM with shoes in my hand
Said I wouldn't do it, but I did it again
And I know I'll be gone tomorrow night
Mm, another vice