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~•~
Sound.
Bass thumped through my arms, making my fingers tingle. It vibrated throughout my body, from the toes up. Sight. Neon lights beamed like lasers across the room, glowing against the shadow-like figures of people standing in corners of the room. They created an illusion of a rainbows against my skin. Taste. The bitter-sweetness of piña colada lingered on my lips, and with one quick lick, was instantly transferred to my tongue. Smell. Cigarette smoke and alcohol floated in the space of the small room. It filled my lungs completely, leaving me breathless. It was suffocating.
It's 1970. I'm at a pub on Friday night, because my best friend, Rosaline had convinced me that I needed to go out, and for the sole purpose of that there was nothing else better to do. I come here once in a blue moon, to check out the live gigs they have. Tonight, a band named Smile is playing, and they're not bad. Throughout the night, I attempt to make conversation with a few people, but the conversation usually burns out quickly due to me being fixated on something, mostly someone else. He's got golden blonde hair. It framed his structured face perfectly. Loose strands fell in his face as he beat away on the drums. Sweat glistened against his chest that peeked through the slightly unbuttoned shirt he was wearing. He was beautiful. "Are your eyes glued to him, or something?" A voice suddenly interrupts my thoughts, the trance I had on the boy broke. I scoff and with a wave of my hand respond with, "Oh, shut up Rosaline." "No worries, I don't blame you, hon. He's very good looking." I shoot her a glare, letting her know that she should back off. Rosaline always got the boys's attention. Me? There had only been one guy, that I met at a bar, who was so drunk that he didn't even remember his own name. I usually tend to hide that memory away, for the better. I don't like to think of that night...
I fix my eyes back on the quartet. They played in perfect harmony. The electrifying sound they produced was almost mesmerizing. I notice that one of the four is surprisingly tall, with long, dark curly hair. His eyes were closed, his fingers plucking away on the guitar. He was at peace, in his own serenity. The other one, that played the bass and sung into the microphone, looked rather stressed than relaxed. His eyebrows furrowed together in anger- or worry. I couldn't tell which. His voice cracked, it was rough around the edges, but still sounded good. The veins in his forehead bulged- almost as if they were going to explode. I knew now, that he was angry, but why? The song ended, and again, I found myself staring at the blonde-haired boy. His hair was a mess and he was sweaty, yet he still looked like a god. His eyes. They were staring back at me. His eyes. They were blue. His eyes his eyes his eyes. They were pools of diamonds, they were a never-ending ocean. His eyes. Oh, how I could easily drown in them.
~•~
It was after the gig, and I had been craving a cigarette. I stepped outside, the fresh, autumn breeze grazing against my cheek. It was refreshing, especially after being in a small room for hours. I lean against the brick wall of the building that was covered in graffiti, and take a long drag. I close my eyes and think about how lovely it would be if I were to wake up and have this all be a dream. I didn't want to look at the blonde boy and get butterflies. I didn't want to look at him and have my heart race a million beats per minute. I didn't even know him. But the way he looked at me, made it seem like I've known him for a lifetime. With just one glance, I'd fallen. Fallen into... what, exactly? Attraction, lust? It must've been. There was absolutely no way I was in love. That idea was just incredulous.
