Chapter 2- Tristan's POV

420 28 4
                                    


I can't think of anything to say at first, so I just stand there awkwardly. I don't want to pour all my feelings out to this guy I barely know. Before I know it though, I'm doing just that. "My boyfriend kicked me out." I blurt out, then sigh when I realise what I've done.

Brad raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, he kicked you out?"

I don't want to make a bad impression on Brad, so I edit some of Corey's language. "He told me to get out because I was annoying him."

"He sounds like a charmer." says Brad.

I shrug. "It's not the first time. And I wanted to get out anyway."

"I'm not surprised." Brad says sympathetically. "What are you going to do now?"

"No idea." I answer honestly. 

Brad smiles. "I was just going to work. You can come with me if you like."

"Why do you work so late?" I ask obliviously. 

Brad laughs. "I'm a musician. I play the piano down at that bar." He indicates with his hand to a small building down the road. 

I blush. "I'm not really a nightlife person. But I'd like to  go with you." We set off down the road, and although it feels weird to be going somewhere I don't know with someone who is effectively a stranger, I'm curious so I don't worry about it too much.

As we walk, Brad tells me about working there. "I like it." he tells me. "I've become friends with a lot of the regulars, it's a really cool place."

"It sounds it." I say. "Do you have any other jobs, or is that it?"

"Just that." says Brad. "I used to be a waiter, but I hated it. People were so rude. Then a friend of mine recommended me for the pianist job,  so here I am."

"Do you do concerts?" I ask. "Sorry for all the questions, I've never met a proper musician before."

He smiles, sending his beautiful eyes my way again. "I do sometimes. But I prefer this, it's much more personal." He pauses, then says "But that's enough about me. What about you, uh Tristan? What do you do?"

I blush at the nickname. "I work at a library. I love to read, so it seemed like the perfect job."

Brad laughs. "Oh god, I couldn't do that. The silence would drive me crazy."

"You get used to it." I tell him. "And it's not that quiet anyway to be honest. The amount of screaming kids I have to deal with... and the old people who can't figure out how to use the scanner system."

"You must have the patience of a saint." Brad says as we approach the building. He leads me in and gestures to an empty seat by the bar. "Take a seat. And chill out." I smile at him, finding myself much more relaxed than I've been for a while. It makes a change from my usual feeling anyway. Brad briefly speaks with someone who I assume is the manager, before sitting down and starting to play. It's a fairly slow song that I don't recognise, but an odd feeling of content spreads through me.

I haven't felt like this for a long time, and it's nice not to have to worry for once. I'm so into it that it seems like no time at all until he's finished, and I'm brought back down to earth by a ripple of applause. I join in, and Brad looks up then smiles when we make eye contact. Normally I would be self conscious about sitting by myself, but no one seems to care. They're not looking at me, they're either talking amongst themselves or transfixed watching Brad play. I know I am, it's amazing how good music can make you feel.

Brad makes his way through a couple of Beatles songs which even I recognise, before starting again on something I've never heard. It's still nice to listen to though. Part of me is wondering if he sings, he seems like the type. Maybe I can ask him later. Whilst I'm thinking about all this, my phone lights up with another message from Corey. "Seriously, where the fuck are you?"

I really don't want to respond, but it won't go down well if I don't. "I'm out." I respond. He quickly relies with "We need to talk. Get back now." I don't want to leave Brad, especially since he was so nice to me. 

I grab an old receipt i happen to have and scrawl a quick message on it before wrapping it around a few coins. I put in in Brad's tip jar, I can't interrupt him so I just have to leave. I feel really guilty, but it can't be helped. I walk out the bar and into the night, letting out a deep sigh. I really don't want to go home, but I have to. I miss Brad already, and I feel bad. I'll have to think of a story- I can't afford to tell Corey the truth.

-----

This was bad 🙈 My phone was refusing to type, and I kept swearing at it (stupid iPhones 😡)

Also it's too bloody hot (it's like 25 degrees in my room, which is apparently about 77f, which is stupidly hot for England so everyone is annoyed. Including me, it's too hot to sleep and I'm so tired 😭)

Piano Man (Tradley au)Where stories live. Discover now