Coming Home (A Ricky Wilson Fanfic)

Chapter 1.

The music was pounding in my ears while I made sure everyone had something to drink. I was laughing and dancing, I truly loved my job. Well one of them anyway. Since coming to London a couple of months ago, I'd been working for Ben in his bar every night. Out of the three jobs I had, this one was by far the most enjoyable. From Monday to Wednesday I worked in a hotel as a housekeeper and from Thursday to Saturday, I was a receptionist in the same hotel. Every day after work I rushed to Ben's bar, which was named after the owner, to do what I loved doing; watching people enjoy themselves. I liked it when people smiled, flirted and conversed. Hell, I even loved it when people got drunk. It was my dream job, the only thing in my life I didn't want to let go of.

The next song came up and I smiled at all those people having fun. Apparently, it was a quite well-known tune, the whole bar was singing along. "Hey James, shake it like a Polaroid picture!" I turned around and saw Ben looking at me with a twinkle in his eyes. He always teased me about my lack of knowledge in the music department. I wasn't my fault really. Over the last few years, I had lived all over the world but never stayed long enough to buy a radio or TV. Sometimes I didn't even have a mobile with an internet connection. I had absolutely no opportunity to keep up with the latest developments. Nevertheless, I loved music and I was able to remember a song after only hearing it once, call it a gift, so working at Ben's helped tremendously in expanding my musical knowledge.

"Earth to James," Ben's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Yeah, I was listening!" I yelled over the bass of yet another song I didn't know. "Yeah, sure. Would you like to grab your guitar and sing a song for these lovely folk tonight?" I didn't have to think twice about my answer. I nodded and walked in front of the bar to the little stage in the corner. Some nights I would sing a song or two, mostly acoustic versions of songs I'd heard that week. "Any suggestions?" I asked once I put the microphone in the right position. "What about that French song?" Ben had followed me to the stage. He knew I spoke French and that I loved the new Stromae song. I gave him a quick nod and took a sip from my glass of water he had brought over. I waited until Ben had turned the mic on and started playing the first chords. "Formidable, formidable. Tu étais formidable, j'étais fort minable. Nous étions formidables. Formidable,"  I sang. The bar was so crowded I couldn't see all the faces, but I did notice that most of our guests had turned around to face me and stopped their conversations.

I continued to sing and when I had strummed the last chord on my guitar the bar applauded and started chatting again. I returned to my spot to serve some more beers when Ben tapped me on the shoulder. "Give it up for James, my wonderful barmaid who, if I'm not mistaking, has the most beautiful voice in the whole wide world," he said like a proper broadcaster. "Would you cut it out!" I didn't think my singing was that good. I mean, I knew I could sing (not trying to sound big-headed), but there were much better voices out there. "I'm just teasing you, why don't you take five minutes and then return to tending the bar," Ben said laughing. I walked outside and stared at the stars while taking sips of the bottle of beer I brought with me. After my break was over, I walked back in and immediately saw that it was even busier. Ben pointed at a group leaning against the bar to the left of me, indicating that they were ready to order. "What can I get you, boys?" I asked. "Four beers," one of them said grudgingly. Alright, they were not going to be the most talkative. I gave them four bottles and tended to some more alcoholic requests.

"Hey, you! Can we get another four beers over here?!" I heard a guy shout. It was now almost closing time and it was slowly getting quieter. I walked over to the four men with the bottles of beer and reluctantly handed them over with a little smile. "I'm sorry for my friend," one of them said to me, "He can be quite rowdy at times, he doesn't mean it that way." I looked him in his blue eyes and smiled a thank you. I walked over to Ben and asked him if he wanted me to start closing the cash register. He didn't look at me. Instead, he looked over my shoulder to the four men, "Are they giving you a hard time?" "Nah, they're just a bit loud that's all," I replied. "That's okay then. Why don't you clean the chairs and tables and I'll close the cash register?" I grabbed a cleaning rag while I nodded and walked over to the far side of the bar. I had cleaned three sets of tables and chairs before Ben tapped me on the shoulder. "He's here," was all he said to me. I sighed while I turned around and looked at the door. He was here.