You sigh, jiggling your leg as you wait for the bartender to notice you so you can order a drink and get some liquid confidence in your system. There’s several guys at the bar eyeing you up, but all they’re doing is making you feel uncomfortable. Your friend has rented out the bar for her birthday party, but all it’s done is bring up memories that you wanted to forget.
It’s making you remember him. In the best part of ten years, you’d done your best to forget that one guy, the one who just seemed to be perfect in every way possible. Everything in your relationship with him had been amazing, up until he wanted to pursue the life that he and his crazy but loveable friends had always dreamed of. The life of a rockstar. You had loved being the girlfriend of a band member up until the moment he went on tour. Then it had all fallen apart: neither of you could handle the separation. You had both missed each other too much to be throwing your whole self into what you were doing. So you both decided to call it a day. You hadn’t heard from him since.
But you had met him at the very bar that you’re sitting at, back when decent bands still played there. You’d thrown yourself into the mosh pit, only to find it was rougher than you’d expected. He’d been the one to pull you out, catching you when you almost fell and introducing himself as a bright smile as Patrick. And that’s where it all began.
You glance down at your right wrist, at the bracelet that you were always wearing. Some people thought it was childish that you were wearing a thread bracelet at your age, but you didn’t care. It was made of white embroidery thread and had been as silky as a ribbon ever since you got it in the post the day From Under The Cork Tree came out, with the words DO NOT OPEN BEFORE CHRISTMAS woven into it in black. Secretly, you’d always pretended that he’d sent it to you.
“Hey, sweetheart,” A slimy guy sits next to you. “This seat saved for anyone?”
“If you’re looking for a seat to save, mine’s free,” You say, rolling your eyes before getting up and walking away, knowing full well that he wanted to sit next to you.
Your friend, Jenna, dances over to you, drink in hand. “Jamie! What do you think of the party? Charlotte knows how to throw them, huh?”
“It’s great,” You smile, trying to feel more enthusiastic than you currently do. “Would be better if the stupid bartender would get me a drink!”
A hand lightly touches your shoulder. “How about I buy you a drink?”
You turn, and your heart stops. Your mind must being tricks on you, because there he is, looking as cool as the day you first met, in this very bar, all those years ago. Of course, he looks different. He’s lost weight again; his hair cut shorter than it was when you knew him; a fedora perched on his head and his blue eyes are framed by owl glasses. But it’s definitely him. You were amazed to think that this man standing in front of you, the frontman of Fall Out Boy, is the same guy that you dated.
Taking advantage of your silence, he smiles. “Come on. I’ll find you something,”
It’s only as he’s leading you through the crowd that you realise that his arm is around you, and people are pointing and nudging each other.
He leans against the bar and notions to the bartender, who instantly pours you both a drink. The moment they’re in front of you, you grab yours and down it. Then promptly down his.
“Hey!” He protests. “Steady on! What happened to that bubbly girl that I knew?”
“What happened?” You laugh, running a hand through your blonde hair. “How about ten years, Patrick? Ten years, and the only news I’ve had from you is stuff that I’ve read, about how amazingly well Fall Out Boy have been doing! And every single time you’ve toured near here, or played this town, you didn’t think to come visit me? Even before we were together, I seem to remember us being friends!”
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