Wicked Game

Chapter 4

   Jemima arrived at the pub about fifteen minutes later that she had planned. Somehow, the journey there had gone smoothly and there hadn't been any delays or obstacles, since she'd left the Wilkinson's house, of course. She opened the heavy door, felt the thick air hit her like a wave, the second she stepped inside. The place was not filled to the brim, which she was overjoyed by, but there was quite a lot of people there. That was good, she thought. It was nice for the band that they had a public.

Suddenly, a different song started. The music so far had only been the last, instrumental part of a song, but now someone started singing. Even though she had never heard him sing before, she knew immediately that it was Harry. He had quite a deep voice, a little raspy, and he was really, really good. Jemima made her way around two large groups of people, standing around tiny tables, to see the small stage and the band a little better.

Harry was standing in the middle, a little in front of the others. He had a mic clasped in both of his hands, his long hair out of the bun she had previously only seen it in, and a shirt in a really patterned, colourful fabric. It was the kind of shirt where you couldn't really tell if the person wearing it was actually serious about it or if it was meant as a joke. But somehow, Harry really could pull it off and the longer she watched him on that stage, the more she realized that he belonged there. He was just naturally one of those people who looked cool in a situation like that, and not like someone who was pretending to be an artist or something.

Jemima took a look at the other guys in the band. There was a blond guy, playing a guitar like he hadn't done anything else since the minute he was born. She could just see how much he enjoyed it. The guy playing bass was wearing a sleeveless, slightly distraught, top; showing off his quite skinny, but heavily tattooed arms. He seemed to have adapted to the washed-up-rock-star-look wholeheartedly and it kind of suited him. Behind the drums sat a really buff guy, with a buzz cut and a face that reminded Jemima of a puppy. He also had some tattoos on his arms and hands, but somehow they felt a bit more out of place on him, than on Harry and the bass-player. He was a really good drummer, though, Jemima thought, as she made her way to the bar to get something to drink.

She very rarely drank anything alcoholic and was almost always proven to be a total lightweight. She didn't know if it was because she was so tiny or because she almost never had anything to drink, but in almost all cases, she preferred to drink something virgin instead. Tonight though, she really fancied a beer. It had been a long day, she had been very annoyed or angry at points during it and she just felt like having one. One beer, that she could handle and not become to talkative, embarrassing or becoming that kind of dizzy that she hated.

Jemima got a pint, and made her way back so she could see the stage. There was one small table empty, by the bench that ran along the wall. There, she had a perfect view of the stage and could rest her tired legs at the same time.

After a little while, the couple beside her, seemed to have started some kind of wrestling match with their tongues, and soon, limbs were flying everywhere, a little too close to Jemima's head for her to be comfortable and not be afraid of having her teeth knocked out. She tried to move away, inch by inch, so that she suddenly sat as a part of the group next to her. She couldn't really decide which was to prefer; to basically be involved in a make out-session with two strangers or to sit so close to a group of people, that it would be weird of her not to at least say hi to them. She wasn't willing to do either, so she spent about an hour in this very uncomfortable position, pretending to be so fixated by the band that she didn't realize she was pretty much sitting on a loud, bad smelling guy's lap.

When the band had finally played their last song, Jemima got up from the bench, faster than what was probably cool, but she couldn't get away fast enough. She went for the stage, but about half-way she realized that she was going to look ridiculous if she just ran up to Harry. So she stayed, right in the middle of the pub, waiting for him to be done on stage and hopefully come down and find her.