In My Veins

You Can't Choose What Stays And What Fades Away

“Do you want another drink?”

Realistically, Danielle knows she probably shouldn’t. Already four beers in, her nerves are starting to dissipate. She finds it much easier to converse with Dom (and any other guy for that matter) with alcohol swimming in her veins. She can hold her alcohol the best out of her sisters but there’s something about the strong English brews that she just can’t beat.

“Sure,” Danielle says with a polite smile. She polishes off the last sip of her current drink and slides it gingerly to the awaiting bartender.

They’re sitting in the corner of a small pub located two or three blocks from the hotel. It’s mostly filled with older gentleman and Danielle’s kind of grateful. She doesn’t really have to worry about being spotted.  It’s been two hours since their arrival and the sun is starting to set on the horizon. It was nice to get away from her sisters for a bit. They had no idea she was here.

“So,” Dom begins once their drinks arrive. “What’s it like?”

Danielle knows this question. She really does. “What’s it like being in a band with your sisters?” It’s so cliché and the mere thought of even answering it prompts an eye roll, which goes unnoticed by Dom.

“What’s what like?” Danielle asks dryly. “Being in a band with my sisters?”

Dom just shakes his head. “I take it you get that a lot.”

“Only about sixteen times a day,” Danielle laughs. She feels kind of bad. Dom’s cheeks are turning red and he looks embarrassed. “It has its ups and downs.”

“I have two brothers and I couldn’t imagine being with them twenty four seven,” Dom admits with a chuckle. He traces the rim of his glass and looks around the half empty pub.

Danielle just shrugs. “You get used to it.” She catches Dom gazing at her intently and turns away with a small smile. “How old are your brothers? We should totally hook them up with my sisters.”

“Well one’s gay,” Dom laughs. “So that might be difficult.”

“Este loves a challenge,” Danielle deadpans. She can’t help but feel giddy when Dom bursts into laughter and nearly chokes on his beer.

“They’re both older; Dean’s 30 and Dylan’s 28.”

It occurs to Danielle that she doesn’t even know Dom’s last name or how old he is.

“I’m 26,” Dom says, as if he’s reading her mind.

“All D’s, huh?”

Dom nods. “I guess we’re like the Kardashians of London.”

“I don’t think that’s something to be proud of,” Danielle points out with a laugh. She takes a small sip of beer and sighs contently when it settles in the pit of her stomach. She realizes there’s nothing really to be nervous about.

They spend the next hour chatting aimlessly and Danielle finds out more about Dom. His real name is Domenic (nobody calls him that except for his grandmother) and his last name is Hayes. He bar tends part time to make extra money. During the day, he’s a graphic designer at a small start up company in London.

“It’s not as exciting as being a rock star,” Dom says disappointingly.

Danielle bites her lip shyly. “I’m not a rock star, dude. Promise.”

“Ah, but you are, Danielle Haim, you are.”

Danielle feels her heart beating against her chest. She hasn’t felt this way since her third or fourth date with Blake. “You’re making me blush.”