It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old man sitting next to me
Making love to his tonic and gin
***
He had no name tag, no indicator of who he was besides his great coat and long fingers.
She was apart of the regular crowd. Her dress reached just below mid thigh and it was just as black as the sky outside. No sparkles, no sequins, nothing special. She didn't own flashy dresses.
Ashton had noticed her somehow, probably because she was one of the younger girls in the bar. The other occupants of the bar were gruffy and swung their drinks around without fear of dropping it. She sauntered in every night with nothing else to do with her time. He watched her and replayed the image in his head of her plopping herself next to him, asking his name and why he was there. Maybe she would ask him to have a drink with her if Ashton was lucky, but he had first seen her a month ago, and his daydream was still locked inside his head.
Time to set it free.
Ashton stood up from his seat and eyed the girl as she drifted to a stool. She sat down and tugged her dress down over her bottom, ensuring that it didn't ride up. He took a step in her direction when a hand grasped onto his arm. The old man sitting next to him stared, silent from his tonic and gin. His second or third glass clinked with ice and a disfigured lemon wedge. Ashton had witnessed the first consumption earlier, the victim unbothered to come up for air, opening his mouth wide to catch all of the last, falling drops from his poison.
"Are yer goin' over to play the piano?" the man gurgled, gesturing to the mighty grand across the room. His mouth hung open and his face was shaven like a cat had snatched his razor. Ashton played, but he had other motives tonight.
"Well-" Ashton said, but was cut off by the drunk.
"Son, can you play meee a memory...I-I'm not really sure howitgoes but it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man's clothes," The man slurred, clapping Ashton on the back. He gave him a little push towards the daunting instrument.
One song is all he allowed himself. Ashton glimpsed at the girl again, slouched over the bar and tossing her curls, a dark earthy color, behind her. He sighed and picked his way through the chairs knocked on their sides and the stumbling, bumbling folks who had lost their minds. A dim light hung above the piano, and the cover hadn't been touched in years. Ashton took it by the corners and pulled it to the floor in an elegant fashion, folding the sheet in on itself. The keys were covered with a thin layer of dust and in need of a sweep to look new again.
His hands danced over the keys and the piano emitted a vibrant ring in the colorless bar. Ashton lost himself. Flitting over the melody and piecing together harmonies were second nature. A few hoots and hollers reached his ears, but Ashton pushed them out of his mind, only focusing on his next destination. The verses were effortless and the choruses were unpleasant with his fingers tripping over one another, but the progression of the song compensated for his mistakes. He stretched his chest when he went to hit the last note, letting it sound out.
A warm body pressed close to Ashton, causing him to look up and see his desired girl sitting beside him. He heard the applause at the same time that she said,
"Hey there, Piano Man."
a/n: hmm hmm hmm so it starts. (edited things make me happy.) also don't be alarmed by my updates, friends. they are simply revisions.
