You Just May Be The One

Chapter Thirteen

The day of the concert came faster than Mike honestly wanted it to. He was still extremely nervous since he would be performing in front of his girlfriend.

Mike picked up his guitar case and set it near the door, along with all the other guys equipment. Tabby excitedly came down the stairs in a cute red dress, the same shade of color the Monkees sometimes all wore on stage. She had a red bow tied into her blonde hair as well.

"Don't you just look beautiful?" Mike grinned, leaning down to give her a quick peck on the lips.

"You like it? I'm copying the look you guys wear on stage sometimes." She smiled and twirled around.

"It's perfect. Compliments you well. Luckily it does, since you are a Monkee Girlfriend." Mike smiled and leaned against the wall.

"Oh do I get a special title too?" Tabby giggled, flattening the dress with her hands, "I'm so excited to see you guys play."

"I'm... A little nervous..." Mike admitted, his cheeks turning rosy.

"Why? You've preformed so many other times for people." Tabby raised an eyebrow.

"Yes... But this time I'm performing in front of you..." Mike scratched the back of his head.

"Oh come on, it's no different than playing normally. You'll do great!" Tabby smiled and rubbed his arm.

Except this time I've made a song to sing to you...

"Right. You're right. I shouldn't get so worked up." Mike nodded, the butterflies still fluttering around in his stomach.

Micky, Davy, and Peter all piled the rest of their stuff at the door and opened it. They carried the stuff down and pushed it into any open place they could in the Monkee Mobile. Mike carried his guitar down, Tabby trailing along behind him.

Mike got into the drivers seat, Tabby sitting in the passengers, and the other three men squished into the back seat with little to no room. Mike started up the car and pulled away from their house, towards the building they would be playing at.

They pulled up at a small bar, a nice one, not one where people fight and scream about sports. There were nice tables and a nice clean wooden bar. It was almost a restaurant, but the only food on the menu were appetizers. The Monkees went up and set up the stage, leaving Tabby to sit alone at a table reserved for them when they were done singing.

Tabby took a seat at the table, fiddling with the white table cloth that covered the table. She glanced up at Mike every so often, watching him re-tune his guitar.

"Um. Excuse me, this table is reserved for the Monkees only." A scratchy voice said to Tabby.

A waitress with super long bleach blonde hair was standing next to her, pointing down at the table.

"Oh, I'm with them..." Tabby said, blushing slightly. The waitress had a squeaky and scratchy voice, the stereotypical waitress.

"With them? Yeah, okay. When pigs fly.
I always wait on them and they all totally flirt with me. I've never seen you here before." The waitress screeched in her voice.

I don't think them ordering and saying hello and goodbye to you is flirting, miss. Your voice sounds like nails on a chalk board and I don't think even Davy could hit it off with you. Tabby thought.

"Well I-" Tabby began.

"Is there a problem here?" Mike was suddenly by Tabby's side, frowning.