"I'M NOT SOMETHING TO BE PASSED BACK AND FORTH." she screamed at me with hurt shining in her hazelnut eyes. Anger and sadness,wondering how I could have orchestrated this madness. How could I have been the one in charge of such deceit? "How could yo...
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IZZY POV
There was a difference between being late and just being ghosted. Axl was always late but now there was ten minutes before the show and it was very clear he was not coming.
Son of a bitch.
Walking into the venue I looked around, a decent crowd for a local band. It wasn't just about giving kids a chance by having a small opening act tour with us but it was also about getting people that might like their music to come and try our music. Even though we were bigger and more well known, sometimes these local bands had good sway in the local scenes and it was a beneficial relationship.
These guys had unfortunately come up with a polarizing name of Bleached Anus. I get it, the whole punk thing. But that was why Duff was supposed to come to this show instead of me. His girl had gotten sick with some stomach bug and he was playing heroic golden boy boyfriend and taking care of her. And I'm a sucker so I got stuck meeting Axl, who we all figured wouldn't show up anyway, to go see this band.
I tucked away in the corner of the bar, ordering a beer and pulling an ashtray closer as I scanned the crowd for something interesting.
Everyone was younger here, under 18 allowed in the crowd made for a lot of teenage kids who went to high school locally, crowd into the less than stellar venue. Mixed in with freshman and sophomores from the local colleges and it made for an abnormal scene to say the least.
I warned myself to keep my eyes to myself and the stage; underage kids could only mean trouble and I didn't need any of that.
"Hey, can I have a beer, Meg?" A warm, soft voice had my eyes flickering closer to me. "And did the band start a tab I can close out?" The sweet female voice was accompanied by a sweet person. The way she flicked her hair over shoulder gave me a better look at her profile
Shit. I broke my rule.
Half leaning over the bar, wearing a man's flannel shirt over a black dress and beat up Chuck Taylors was my girl. Look at the way her long leg still stood on a tip toe, one knee bent as she brought her leg up behind her and rolled her ankle, probably tired from working some job that she was on her feet all day. She was maybe an inch shorter than me, tall and built with the curves in magazines with flesh for me to grab in all the places I was salivating to touch.
My girl? Jesus fucking Christ. Why am I like this?
This need for her. This desire for her washed over me in a strong wave. It was intoxicating and like it was just us in this entire shithole place.
Time seemed to slow down as some song played from the speakers....
I don't know you, but I want you, All the more for that....
Who was this girl?
Why was I obsessed with the way she smiled around the bottle opening as she talked to the bartender like an old friend? The way she licked the corner of her pretty lips to taste the beer that tried to hide there. Her fingers, nails painted a burgundy with the thumb slightly chipped tucking her long dark hair behind an ear, her pointer finger playing with the dangling silver earring absentmindedly.
