Broken Glass and a Grande Piano

Do you dream of me?

Battered fingers glided across the piano, Tommy never understood the idolisation of old music. Maybe it's the thirst for something everyone can sing along to, when someone doesn't know an '80's hit' everyone acts shocked but no one really knows why.

The lights blocked his view of the crowd, if there even is one. Every musician either hates their music or believes that it is the best sound to ever bless the publics ears.

Tommy didn't fit into any category after all he was a wannabe, someone who loved music too much and was now in too deep.

With a clogged throat and sore eyes he allowed himself to get carried away with the music "If I could only read your mind, Tell me the answer I would find" Tommy was tired but he loved this song. His heart had been poured into these lyrics and that would be heard through his voice and his tone.

"Do you dream of me?"

At the time it had been a question to his ex partner yet for some reason he doesn't know what the song is about anymore.
People have agreed when he shared his original motive while others disagreed and then talked about the admiration of day to day life or perhaps the memories that come along with it.

The happy smiles and loud laughs that played over CDs and karaoke machines. Children screaming as their siblings chased them around in the grass. Tommy likes the different interpretations sometimes.

"And when you're smiling in your sleep
Beyond the promises we keep
Do you dream of me?"

He never understood people,
Tommy only just started to understand himself. For some reason he had found people tricky, sure they are a few regulars that he preferred over others but with him working at a bar he would always see their raw true selves.

The alcoholic substances wiping away any of the paint and or makeup that covered up the ugly truth of who they really are. Some people are nice, sure. But the bad outweighs the good when it comes to his experience with drunk customers.

Chewed nails scratches at the whites of the keys as he presses down rather hard. Emotions seeping in through the cracks, anger and jealousy for all that he had missed all that he has yet to do.

"And you and I, here we are
And it's a wonder that we've come this far"

Content.
This song was about feeling content with where you are in life, who you are going to be. It's about knowing what's to come, soon after he wrote it his world was flipped upside down, torn inside out.

Ironic.
Tommy disagrees when people tell him the phrase, the word. Unlucky, irony doesn't play into his life that much. He was just unfortunate.

"And after all that we've been through
You've leaned on me, I've leaned on you
Do you dream of me?"

The page was coming to an end and Tommy could hear the clacking of peoples shoes on the wooden floor come to a slow. A small smile formed on his face. He allowed it to stay there for a little while.

Blue eyes close as he thinks about his past lovers and as music paints pictures in his head.
One was familiar to him, someone had once told him an interpretation of his own song.

It was when he first started to preform and it was quite a shock to him when they had told their perspective on the song.

Words ran through his head as he remembers their exact words.
"my dad had a whole bunch of CDs with music on them and I very quickly ended up stealing them all. I have listened to those CDs so much I have every single song memorised"

They  shrugged at him when he didn't reply to them straight away.
"Just sounded like one of the songs we used to listen to, y'know?"

Blatant sounds made their way out of the deaf piano, finger pads mushing into the keys. His song was ending and he didn't know if he could let it go yet. He didn't want to lose this feeling.

He knew who he was. Tommy knew how his life was going to go. You can know things and still be wrong.

"And when you're smiling in your sleep
Beyond the promises we keep"

Lyrics drag themselves out of his throat, his brain mourned the loss of them as they exited his head.

"Do you dream of me?"

It's soft spoken, not shouted or whined not even sung.
Just spoken.

His hands rest on his lap for a moment, the applause began and ended. A cold glass met his lips and the burn ran down his throat. Shaking his head slightly he turned towards the audience. Bright smiles shone back at him.

This was nice.

Closing time came faster than he would've liked, he finished his set and closed the lid to the piano. There were very few customers left, it was nice and quaint.

Karl had told him that once his set had finished he had an option of just 'hanging around' or staying up front.
Tommy loved being behind the bar, maybe it was the stories he would hear or the joke he would be told but it was his ideal place to be.

A familiar sight filled his vision, placing down the drink he had just made a water droplet rolled down the side of it. Brown curly hair was neater than the last time he saw it. The man's face was still just as clean and his glasses sat on the edge of his nose.

"Hey, um can I get two of what's on the tap and two.. fruity ciders. Oh um passion fruit i'd you have it"

Dim-witted.
This customer was that, the word defined him perfectly, not in a rude sense just a.. It was a fondness that he found in the man that made him come across as slightly dim.

"Sure that'll be no issue. How's your night going...?"

Hazel eyes looked up from where they were trained on the counter. Tommy followed his eyes to see a small stain, a fine detail that the customer seemed to notice.

"Wilbur, my names Wilbur. You can call me Will if you'd like."
His hands fidgeted by his side and Tommy observed him as brown irises seemed to follow him around.

"My nights going good by the way, thanks for asking." He paused yet again.
"You were great up there."

Tommy felt his face redden slightly and his head dipped in acknowledgement. Blonde hair blocked his view of the taps slightly.
The pint glass clinked against the metal.

"Thanks Will, I appreciate it."

He smiled as he slid the order over, "And that is eighteen pounds and twenty pence."
Wilbur struggled with his money for a moment before just handing over twenty pounds and telling Tommy to keep the change.

The man began to walk off before he remembered something.
Tommy watched as he saw the glint of curiosity in the brunettes eyes, his head whipped around and Wilbur shouted to him. Probably the loudest he had even been inside the tavern.

"What's your name!"

Desperation filled his voice, it was odd. He wasn't really asked his name as people were often too caught up in themselves and their own tales.

"Tommy, Have a good rest of your night Wilbur"

Satisfied the man bounces off towards his table where the rest of his friends sit. Placing the drinks down he begins chatting with a new found enjoyment.

Tommy would like to write a song about Wilbur.