Open Mic || Larry

end up here

•louis•

i hate big crowds. so why i am here, at a very crowded pub in the centre of the city, on a night when i could be catching up on Shaun The Sheep, i have no idea.

i can't believe i talked myself into coming here. the music is loud, and it's much too crowded. but i don't want to quit. i go over to the bar, and order a pint.

as i hover aimlessly, drink in hand, i decide to stay a little while. the background music is a song by the arctic monkeys, snap out of it. i bob my head to the steady beat, though i can barely hear it. i take a sip of my beer and take a seat at an empty table as a man comes onto the small stage.

"ladies and gents, welcome to friday night's open mic! first up, we have don! everyone knows don, give him a big hand." the man claps loudly, earning a soft applause from the audience. another man, round and balding, steps on the stage, a cello in his large hand. he sits down and takes about ten minutes adjusting his microphone. finally, he begins to play, and i'm pretty sure the entire audience covers their ears. when don's screechy bowing is over, i take a deep breath and sip the last bit of my pint. soon, a very tall woman comes on the stage, with a tambourine in her hand, and she doesn't bother sitting down. she begins to sing, her wavering voice a little pitchy, but all together not awful. but she cannot hold a beat to save her life. it seems that she slaps the tambourine every three beats, and then seven, then two. altogether not that bad. after she is done, i applaud generously, and stand up to leave. i wave to the friendly bartender and reach the door when i stop in my tracks. a smooth, steady voice fills the room, and i turn around, my overwhelming curiosity urging me to take a peak. a boy... man... guy, agh awkward louis, sits casually on a barstool, a mic in his hand.

"hey, guys. i'm harry, how are you all doing tonight?" a few people cheer from the crowded audience, and he chuckles and runs a hand through his curly brown hair. "so, me and these twats here wrote these songs, so if you like or dislike them, let us know! we love the feedback. okay, i'll shut up now."

he giggles slightly, and gestures to a couples of guys standing behind him, a bassist, a guitar player, and a young guy sitting on a wooden box. harry clears his throat, and his resonant voice seems to bounce off the walls.

"baby, i'll hold you till the end of time, until i make you mine. you've got eyes deep like the sea, but what's really troubling me, is that when you look in the mirror, you don't like what you see. you've replaced that twinkle in your eyes with a gap between your thighs. much to your dismay, those numbers aren't dropping fast enough, but I hope you know that you're good enough, for me." his voice is like magic, and the smooth bass and guitar complement it perfectly. i stand awestruck, and smile at the lyrics. even though they're quite sad, they're also very sweet, and extremely accurate. i close my eyes and feel my shoulders sway slightly as he keeps singing. my eyelids flick open in disappointment he sings the last line. "but until then, this is just a text you'll never read."

whoa. that was intense. the room is completely silent for a second, and then it explodes into a cacophony of applause and cheers. i stand on my tiptoes, and watch harry grin and thank the audience, but just as he turns to leave, someone screams an eager 'encore.' harry smiles and sits back on his stool and prepares to do another set. i can't wipe the grin off my face, and nor flush the adrenaline out of my veins. i cheer along with the crowd when he introduces the next song.

"okay, looks like we're back again. this song is called end up here, it was written by some of my best mates, who unfortunately couldn't make it tonight, or else they would have been performing this themselves. hope you guys like it." he smiles, and nods to the drummer who kicks off the song. "you walked in, everyone was asking for your name, you just smiled and told them "trouble." my head spins, i'm pressed against the wall, just watching your every move, you're way too cool

and you're coming this way, coming this way. how did we end up talking in the first place? you said you liked my cobain shirt, now we're walking back to your place, you're telling me how you love that song, about living on a prayer, i'm pretty sure that we're halfway there. and when i wake up next to you i wonder how, how did we end up here? next day out, everybody thought you were so insane, 'cause you were so far out of my league. my friends say i should lock you down, before you figure me out and you run away, but you don't and you won't as you kiss me and you tell me that you're here to stay. how did we end up talking in the first place? you said you liked my cobain shirt. now we're walking back to your place, you're telling me how you love that song, about living on a prayer, i'm pretty sure that we're halfway there. and when i wake up next to you i wonder how, how did we end up here?call me lucky 'cause in the end, i'm a six and she's a ten, she's so fit, I'm insecure, but she keeps coming back for more. how did we end up talking in the first place? you said you liked my cobain shirt. now we're walking back to your place, you're telling me how you love that song, about living on a prayer, i'm pretty sure that we're halfway there. and when i wake up next to you i wonder how, how did we end up here? how did we end up, how did we end up here? how did we end up, how did we end up here?"

his breath is ragged and shallow, his cheeks pink, but a wide smile spreads across his lips. i clap as loudly and as enthusiastically as i can, not even caring about looking ridiculous. deafening cheers and hoots break from the audience, and i let out a small sigh when i realise that harry's band won't be playing anymore. i go take a seat at the bar, and get a refill of my forgotten pint. i sit there silently, sipping the hoppy ale, when a warm, slightly hoarse voice shakes me from my silence. "hi, can I get four waters and a double rum and coke, please? put 'em on my tab. thanks, carl."

i glance over, and harry, my new favourite singer, is standing right beside me, waiting patiently for his drinks. with a sudden burst of courage, i turn to face him and clear my throat. please don't be awkward. "hey, man you did great out there. really awesome sound."

to my intense surprise, i don't stutter or bumble my way through sentences like I normally do, but sound quite suave. nope, never mind. i said suave, that sort of ruined it. harry grins, and reaches out to shake my hand. "thanks, man. it's so much fun, hanging with the guys and stuff. anyway, glad you enjoyed it. i'm harry. what's your name?"

i shake his hand, silently praying mine isn't drenched with sweat. something comes over me, some sort of strange bravery, and instincts take over. i look confidently into harry's eyes and utter a simple reply, "trouble."