Chapter 2
It was several months before I finally got my first gig. Nerve racking wasn’t even close. I felt my entire body heat up as I stepped out into the stage lights. Everbody’s eyes turned on me. Shaking, I slowly reached out for the mic and announced myself.
“Hello, I’m Luka.” I muttered into the mic. Like a rabbit in the headlights, I could hardly remember why I was there.
I went for it, gently easing into my first song. Jolene by Dolly Parton. I played like my life depended on it. The first verse came out a little shaky, but I knew once I hit the chorus, all my inhibitions had faded. I felt infinite, just for 1 moment, I felt like nothing could stop me. As the song came to an end, I moved straight into my next song, and the next after that, then finally another. I ended by thanking my audience, and playing one final song.
I had never felt a rush like it in my life. I’d dank a lot of beer before, but never felt this good drunk. I’d smoked a little weed in my past, and still hadn’t felt like this. I saw no down side. I knew I wouldn’t be giving this up in a rush.
As I stood back stage putting my guitar away and thanking the stage team, I was approached by a young lady around my own age, 19-20, who asked me the strangest question.
“What phone do you have?” She blurted out as if it was of some major importance to her.
“It’s an android phone. The new L.O.L. Phone 1999. Why!?” I replied, slightly confused.
“Ah thank heavens, so how about dinner Friday night?” the young lady replied as she passed me a piece of paper with her name and number.
At this moment it came to my attention that her name is Layla.
“Erm, sure, but why did you ask me what phone I had?” I replied, still baffled by her strange curiosity towards my cellular communications choice.
“I’ll tell you Friday.” She whispered as the gave me a quick hug and disappeared out the door.
Without a second thought I added her number to my mobile and sent her a quick text.
“Hiyaa Layla, just a quick text so you have my number also.
All the best, Luka. :-)”
I spent the entire walk home wondering about Layla and her strange question. It didn’t make any more sense by the time I reached my door, than it did when she asked me, but I couldn’t deny I was more than pleased to have secured a date with her. From the moment she walked over I had noticed her numerous piercings and tattoos. Standing around 5 feet 6 inch’s tall, with pink and blond, medium length hair, and deep brown eyes. Her dress reminding me of mix between a metal bands guitar and a motherboard from a computer. It was so different and clearly handmade.
I entered my living room to find my housemate, Micky, sprawled on the sofa chatting away to his boyfriend Tom on Skype.
“Hey Mick.” shouted through as I darted into the kitchen to make 2 cups of tea ready for the “OMG, LOL, LMAO and WTF.” Chat Micky and myself have when ever something big happens. And at that moment, I felt the gig going great and being asked out by an attractive yet unusual stranger definitely called for one of those chats.
I walked into the room, a cup of tea in each hand, and Micky instantly knew something had arisen the need for a talk.
“I’ve got to go babe, Luka just brought me a cup of tea... Something’s going on. Fill you in later.” Micky rushed to say and put the phone down.
“What is it? What’s happened? Did it go well? Are you going to be famous?” I was bombarded with questions from my nutty housemate.
“Well, it felt amazing being on stage alone! Scary but SOOO amazing! Then I met this girl! And it was weird! She could be quite the crazy lady though! The audience seemed to enjoy even seco...”
“Woah Woah Woah! Go back to the meeting of a female!” He cut me off before I could finish and I knew I had his attention now.
“Well, she came up to me and asked me a really bizarre questions, gave me her number and then asked me out on Friday. She seems nice from what I know of her so far, although, asking me what phone I have was a very strange way to get me talking though.” I blurted out as if racing against a clock.
“This sounds good and yeah, strange question I agree. She could just have used it to get you talking.” He mused as he rolled a cigarette and passed me the TV remote.
We spent the rest of the night talking about my next gig, 3 days later, at the same club as that night. He asked me what songs I intended on playing and helped me choose a theme and work on my confidence with speaking to the audience between songs. All the while thinking of texting Layla, but arguing myself that it would be way to early.
Fearing I would lose my own mental battle I put my phone on charge, made myself another cup of tea and took myself to bed for the night. Promising myself I would think of something great to send to the lovely Layla tomorrow.
