Honey Drip // Danny Wagner

XII

Danny, Josh, Jake and Sam all looked so cute onstage even as they sort of struggled to set up their equipment in the small space. Jake was wearing the black fringe jacket, which I loved;Josh had gone for a pair of tight navy blue pants, basically leggings, with an almost-matching sleeveless shirt; Sam was wearing a pair of jeans that weren't quite bell bottoms but were close enough, the hems all ratty and torn, and a shiny slate grey button-down which was, in fact, completely unbuttoned; Danny, I thought anyway, by far looked the best, adorned in these tight black pants that I loved and a deep purple, faux-suede vest, also entirely unbuttoned and his bare skin shown from underneath.

I could have pounced on him right there.

Despite that, I wanted to hang back and let them all concentrate and get in the zone. I sat myself down at a small table off to the side, situated so I had a perfect view but I was also left somewhat in the shadows. As I sipped my vodka cranberry I took an overview of the bar--it was a decent crowd for still early-ish, even on a Friday night, everyone seeming as though they were in good spirits. It didn't seem like anyone was really paying attention to the band setting up, that was until my eyes landed on the woman I met at my work. She caught my eye and smiled--notebook in hand, she made her way over to me.

"Hey, we met earlier this week," she said, still smiling. "You work with Jason."

"I do," I replied. "Bridget, right?"

"Right," she replied, extending her hand, which I shook. Bridget then turned to the stage. "So, that's Greta Van Fleet?"

"Yeah," I said, following her eyes to the boys. "That's them. Josh--the film buff--is the one with the curly hair."

"It's actually perfect that you're here," Bridget said, looking back down at me. "I talked to Josh on the phone but it's nice to put faces to names."

"Well, Sam is the one who's barefoot," I went on. "That's his thing. Jake is the guitarist, which I'm sure you've gathered, and Danny is the drummer." As I said it I looked at him--he had tied a paisley bandana around his forehead--I bit back a grin, filled with pride.

Bridget nodded. "They all have very distinct looks. Yet they also go together," she observed, looking them over again before turning back to me. "I'm going to get a drink, do you need another?"

"I'm alright now, thanks."

"Okay. Well, I'm gonna go find myself a good spot." Bridget smiled. "I'm looking forward to this."

So was I--I was ready to see Josh jive onstage, ready to see Jake's hips gyrations; I was ready to see Sam's uncensored facial expressions as he strummed his fingers across his bass; but most of all, I was ready to see Danny going wild on the drums, the veins of his biceps prominent as he pounded, even under the terrible, dingy yellow lighting of the bar.

Greta Van Fleet opened with "Black Smoke Rising," a song I had heard a number of times before--it never got old though, not with Josh's belting vocals and Jake's slick guitar riffs, all while Sam  pranced around his tiny corner of the stage and Danny's hair blew around himself while he drummed like a madman.

I tapped my foot and nodded my head with the music, still working on my drink. The rest of the bar was pretty receptive to them too, even amidst all the chatter. I noticed a few women looking on affectionately, their eyes gazing over the guys, and I thought, Yeah same.

Bridget seemed to be into it too, also tapping her foot against the bar, the notebook laid out and open in front of her--I wondered what she had scribbled inside it.

The band closed with their cover of "A Change Is Gonna Come" and, much to my delight, almost everyone in the bar clapped at the conclusion. It wasn't that people at their gigs weren't into the music--it just was a bit of a challenge when everyone was focused on drinking instead. I hoped that the blurb Bridget might write about Greta Van Fleet would allow them to expand their venues and play for people who actually came out to see them.