Chuck Shorts

Subway

You had your own car but when it broke down one night you took the subway. That was months ago with the car fixed you still took the subway. There was one thing about your commute that you didn't want to change. There was a man that played down there, a man with beautiful blue eyes and a voice that matched them. It was just him and his guitar down there playing for change.

His beautiful raw voice echoed against the concrete and you couldn't get enough. Happy to see his face when those doors opened in the evening. Today was the day you'd say something to him. All the days and nights you walked by and smiled, this morning he smiled back, giving you courage. So exiting the train with purpose you made your way to him. Nearly losing your confidence until he looked at you and smiled a little while finishing his song. "She blew his ass away... away... away." Striking the last cord the music faded and you held your breath. He lowered the guitar, swinging it around his body, "Hi."

"You've got to be the hardest working musician out there," you say with a grin. "Well I wouldn't say that," he rubs the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say that I really do enjoy your music and it gives me something to get stuck in my head while I'm at work. If you ever get to make a cd I'd love to buy a copy." He looks at you and raises a brow, "really?" You take a step closer as if to reduce ease droppers wondering ears, "yea I think about you all day." Blushing when you realize what you said, "songs! I meant I think about your songs all day."

You looked into those beautiful blues and attributed the word slip to them. "Thanks so much for enjoying my music. If you're interested tomorrow night I'm playing with a few other guys. Cover charge is only $5." He gives his little line in such an adorable manner like he's afraid you'll say no. Pulling out your phone, "mind telling me where this place is?" He leans in real close, "it's at the Elastic Waist Bar." You feel his warm breath against your cheek sending a thrilling chill to your spine. You type the name down and send it to yourself.

Putting the phone back in the pocket, "I'll be there." He smiles, "great. Oh I'm Chuck by the way." "Y/N," he shakes your hand. It was a firm grip with his calloused hand but it made your heart skip a beat. "After the show you can tell be what you thought." You smile, "well... I'll buy the first round." He wet his lips, "I knew I liked you," he looks at you coyly then to his guitar case. There are mere coins that have fallen there to which you knew he deserved much more. Walking away with flutter in your stomach and stuck in wonderment for what tomorrow would bring.

Sleeping with purpose while dreaming of his face but mostly his voice. Dreaming of those fingers gliding across the strings. Wishing they could glide across your skin. Wishing those blue eyes were close to you as well as those lips. Shivering at the thought of his beard scratching at your face and neck. Feeling your heart race, as you taste him, getting warmer. Then you hear your alarm. Hitting dismiss you groan as you roll out of bed.

Good thing it was your day off so you could prepare for the concert tonight. Opening your closet you look through it and move some hangers, "what am I going to wear?" You settled on this comfortable ¾ length sleeved light shirt that does well with your print bra. The bra is light but when you look close enough you can make out a pattern. Throwing on the bed some comfy but nice ass jeans you are ready. You pay some bills and do some grocery shopping and when you get back its time to get ready.

Looking yourself over in the mirror after touching up your makeup you nod with approval. Turning sideways to check your curves, "yep." Grabbing your purse and making sure you've got some cash you smile because he's bound to see you. Getting a cab and having them take you to the bar. It doesn't take long but in these heals, no way you were walking. Handing your five dollars to the man at the door he stamps your hand and you go inside. The darkness isn't complete because the lights on the stage illuminate just enough to maneuver the crowd. Once you get close enough to see the stage and who's playing you take a deep breath of relief to see he's not there.

"Thank you," the guy behind the drums says as that band leaves the stage. Holding your breath waiting for the next band to take the stage. The curtain pulls back and your heart dances. He comes out and waves to the crowd. Applause roars and you whistle, catching his attention. He then smiles and moves to the microphone. Closing his eyes he raises a finger. Dropping it the three other men on stage come alive. Drums, bass and guitar fill the air and as Chuck sings he glances down at you from time to time.

You feel like the concert takes hours but most likely it was a half an hour. Each song better than the last and they play them straight into your heart. Watching every member and seeing how much they put into each song made you love them more. Your heart nearly exploded when Chuck took his jacket off to let those arms breathe. When he leaned into the mic his muscled moved and you were very much enjoying the show. You also wondered if he put that much passion into everything.

As he and the rest of the band thanked everyone he retreated behind the curtain. You took a breath and it felt like you haven't been breathing the whole time. Collecting yourself you turn around, suddenly you look over to see him smiling. "Hey," you say grinning ear to ear. "Do you want to meet the band?" You lit up, "yes please." He lead the way and he looked slightly over his shoulder, "hey and thanks for lip-synching." You turned red, "I didn't realize I was." He took your hand and you went back stage. Totally fangirling but it seemed to work because Chuck sat next to you, very closely and before you knew it they were sharing stories. And that's when you were invited to the next show in the next town, as a VIP.