Villa Rosie

Four.

Damon watched Graham peer at the rack of guitars, holding them and feeling the weight of each one, playing them a little bit to see how he felt about it. Alex, meanwhile, stood by Damon, the bottle of champagne he stole from the bartender still in his grasp, cheesing at Graham as if he was watching a wild animal at the zoo.

Graham could feel their eyes burning into his shoulders and hands, shaking a bit as he looked at a black Yamaha acoustic next to a yellowish Telecaster.

"Can I... can I use, um, use the Telecaster? It's similar to the one I have home," Graham queried, talking to Damon but still looking at the instrument, holding the neck of it.

"I never play that one, go 'head," Damon replied, Graham promptly picking up the guitar.

"Well, isn't this wonderful," Alex cheesed. "You've got your band Damon. I hope you've got the money as well..."

"You're not getting any money, not with the tab you have, Alex," Damon replied, grimacing at Alex. "You, on the other hand, will get your money."

Graham's eyes darted over to Damon's direction, but said no words, tuning the guitar over an awkward silence. Alex, seeing what Graham was doing, decided to tune a bass guitar sitting in a corner next to Damon's desk.

"I have the songs here in a notebook if you want to look at 'em. The first three are the one's that we're performing."

Damon pulled a small book from his back pocket, brown and worn out. He passed it over to Graham, who stared at the book in Damon's hands before taking and opening it.

"Colin Zeal... Oily Water... and Villa Rosie," Graham said slowly, flipping through the pages of the book.

"Everyone adores Villa Rosie because of the commercial," Alex cheesed, his smile on the verge of being annoying.

Very catchy, Graham thought, trying to play something along the lines of Villa Rosie. He leant against the wall, eyes closed, as he felt his fingers make up something to the melody of the song. Alex started along, playing what he usually did when it was just him and Damon.

"You're quite good," Damon spoke, Graham nodding as he kept on playing. "How long have you been playin'?"

"I've played sax all my life. I picked up guitar a few years back."

"Yeah, Graham would impress all the ladies with his saxophone playing and what not-"

"I was never that good, Alex. I would start and stop playing sax all the time. Even guitar now too. I focus more on my art," Graham interrupted, moving onto Oily Water. Damon watched as Graham once again came up with something on the spot, completely weird but absolutely stunning.

"Do you mind if I sing with you? I feel like then it'll be easier and it'll be a rehearsal."

Graham nodded, still following the chords written over the lyrics. Alex started with Graham, tapping his foot in time. Damon leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and starting:

"Lead in me and me in water
Dangling in my world
I swallowed too much oily water
Now it's slipping down my spine
In a sense of self in decline
Growing fat on sound
It's only an early morning dream
And the whole world will be alright"

Graham started into something that caught Damon's attention, a melody that even Damon wouldn't have been able to play. A small smile crawled onto the blond's face. There was one thing for sure.

Graham was a great guitar player.

Suddenly, Dave popped his head through the door, the sound of the crowd outside sounding deafening from where they were located.

"Are you all ready? I've got the crowd warmed up and my drumsticks handy," Dave smiled, swinging them in his hands. Damon and Alex looked at each other and nodded, and all three men turned to look at Graham, the deciding factor. Graham nervously looked at the three before nodding slowly, a grin irrupting over his face.

"Right, let's go then," Damon cheered, the four men walking out of the room, Graham taking a deep breath before leaving.

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Although it was a cloudy morning in London, the brightness of the clouds still peeked through the gray blinds and one open window of the room, stirring Graham from his slumber. He squinted, feeling around his glasses before rolling off the sofa and falling flat onto the ground. He was expecting a certain Bastard to have ran up and immediately paw at his face. But when a few seconds went by, and no Bastard showed up, Graham shot up from the floor, searching for his glasses and putting them on, trying to figure out where his was. 

The place was a bit small, but very bohemian, different pieces of art and books from other countries circulating the living room. A small television was in front of Graham, and he spotted Alex sitting by the window, a cigarette lit in his hand, as he stared out into the busy streets of London.

That when the headache set in.

"Fuck... what happened," Graham groaned, Alex's position unwavering.

"You're at Damon's house. We all drank like gluttons and ended up here. Well, Dave didn't, he went home to his wife. Damon's been vomiting all morning, not sure how it didn't wake you up," Alex sighed, taking a drag from his cigarette. It looked like he hadn't slept at all. "How's your hangover?"

Graham tried to replay the memories of the night before in his head. He remember the performance, the after-party at the bar, but that had seemed to be it. Nothing else was coming to him, not them leaving the bar, nor them coming back to Damon's house.

"My head kills," Graham finally replied, rubbing his eyes. "How's you?"

Alex finally turned to look at Graham, a small, cheeky grin forming on his face.

"I'm not 100% but, I'm pretty alright. You think you'll get home alright?"

"Depends, where are we exac-"

"Notting Hill," Alex interrupted, Graham face-palming himself.

"Right, looks like I'm taking the bus home. I have to feed my cat," Graham started, getting and making sure he had everything. "You c-can tell Damon it was no problem playing."

Alex nodded, getting up and walking towards Graham. He held out a sheet of paper, Graham slowly reaching for it and reading it. On it had three numbers: one belonging to Dave, one to Alex, and the last Damon's.

"I don't want to lose contact with you again. You're a good friend to have around Graham, and I don't think you know how happy you made everyone by playing with us. I know Dave, and especially Damon would love you to come 'round Villa Rosie more often."

Alex's hand was still out, almost if waiting for Graham to shake it and agree.

Graham, without hesitation, shook Alex's hand in a truce, Alex's smile growing bigger. Graham smiled back, letting go of Alex's hand and finding the jeans jacket he wore the night before. Heading towards the front door, Graham gave Alex a small wave, before exiting the house into the quiet Notting Hill streets.