To My Shooting Star

three

And you did come, you kept that promise.

That show was our biggest yet, but I was too embarrassed to tell you that at the time. It was the first time Primordial Soup in a Can ever played in a real venue- granted a small venue, but nonetheless real. Opposed to odd smelling basements, small garages, and practical closets.

This particular venue was primarily a bar with a terribly-lit, petty stage in the back- so, naturally our six-member band was rather difficult to fit on to the stage. And the conversations of drunken people seemed to drown out our music. In simplest terms: it was a fiasco. That was, at least, until I saw you. At the table closest to the stage. I beamed. You smirked and winked.

Ending our set our lead singer, Nick, spoke into the microphone, "Thank you guys, we are Primordial Soup in a Can!"

You immediately stood up and started clapping and doing the whistling with your fingers thing that I could never learn, no matter how many times you tried to teach me. Your enthusiasm encouraged everyone else to give us a standing ovation- even though half of them probably didn't know a band was even playing in the first place.

Being no curtain to exit behind, you met me at the bottom of the stairs to the side of the stage.

"Excuse me, do you have a backstage pass, sir?" I joked.

Your reply was a big hug and a, "you are wonderful!"

I let out a quick laugh and furrowed my eyebrows, "Not even a little bit."

"No, you were great. Your fingers were moving so fast, how do you not have major arthritis?" you encouraged and put your arm around me as we walked out to my car.

I laughed and shrugged.

When we got to my car you took my bass from me and loaded it into my trunk. "Woah, Superman, thanks."

You just simpered at me.

The rest of my band came out to load their instruments into their cars as well and I introduced you to them and them to you. We all decided to go bowling in celebration of our show. 

You hopped into the passenger seat of my car, I blasted the music. From the time I started the car until I parked at the bowling alley decorated in neon lights, you did not loosen your grip off the assist handle. 

"That was a red light!!" you exclaimed, looking at me with the most terrified expression.

"It was mid-to-late-yellow," I dismissed with a sly smile.

When we got out of the car you were walking as if you were sea-sick.

"How was the ride?" my band mates chuckled.

"I just want to say thanks for forgetting to warn me that Brynn is just about the worst driver ever, " you replied. Laughter erupted among the group.

"Not bad, just fast," I defended.

"No, not bad, terrible," Sebastian, the keyboardist in my band, insisted.

We walked into the brightly lit building and ate our body weights in pizza and did our best Michael Jackson impressions in our bowling shoes, which I still believe I, despite disagreement, definitely won. 

It wasn't until everyone else left and we were sitting on the sidewalk outside the bowling alley that it happened. You looked at me with you sea green blue eyes and told me, "I want to kiss you, and I will continue wanting kiss you as long as we keep seeing each other like this and I think it's best if we do it now and-" 

I cut you off with that kiss you wanted.

Is that cheesy? It's cheesy. Whatever.

~Ava