Calum Hood One Shots

Catharsis [Local Musician!Calum]

Summary: Annette had a favorite coffee shop, and that shop had a local musician that had become her favorite, too. After an introduction by a mutual friend, an awry first impression, and a blossoming friendship, she got to know exactly how Calum Hood came up with the songs that stole her breath away every time.

There was a local artist in Annette's favorite cafe, a musician, who'd captured her attention from the first strum of his guitar and the captivating voice he sang with the second she heard him. Blue's was known for its dedication to giving the local talent a platform, paying them to sing for customers if they had what it took. And this guy, this brown haired, tattooed singer who alternated between performing covers and originals, had captured the hearts of all of the regulars—Annette included. It was because of him that she'd sometimes be late to work or classes if he happened to be playing, completely enraptured by his performance and his smooth rasp sounding over the dull chatter of customers. Not that anyone really talked over the sound of him—Calum Hood was just too captivating to ignore.

Annette was never sure what exactly it was that had her stopping in her tracks every time she heard him sing—if it was the deep lilt of his voice that managed to carry every note he meant to hit, or if it was the lyrics he sang when he introduced a song he wrote himself. Songs about love, loss, healing, and everything in between that hit a little too close to home every time. Honestly—Annette began giving more thought to what Calum must have gone through to be able to write such deeply personal songs that seemed to resonate with everyone than she did to the coursework she should have been focusing on.

Maybe she was being creepy. Maybe she should've stopped lingering in the back of the cafe after she got her order of either a strawberry iced tea or just coffee to lean against the wall and watch Calum strum a guitar and sing—her personal favorites were original songs he'd written like Never Be, Everything I Didn't Say, The Girl Who Cried Wolf, and Moving Along and his covers of Stay by Post Malone and Blink-182's I Miss You—and just moseyed on along to go to class or her shift at the store instead of looking like some stalker. But Annette couldn't help it—she was a fan. Granted, she was no expert in the music industry, but Annette liked what she listened to, and there was no doubt in her mind that Calum was insanely talented. She knew everyone who came to Blue's who was lucky enough to witness him perform, and the management that loved the patrons he was drawing in, would think the same thing.

There were often moments where she wished she grew the confidence in saying something to him—just a mere compliment of how good he was or something. It wasn't like he was a world known musician, maybe a kind comment from a stranger would've made him smile, at the very least. But there was something about Calum that made him appear like the rockstar that he was probably meant to be. With his unruly dark curls, domineering height, tattooed skin, and sharp eyes that took in every face in the crowd, not to mention the overwhelming artistry that seemed to just ooze out of his pores, Calum Hood was a stature Annette wasn't entirely sure she was prepared to approach. Sure, she'd seen people compliment him after he got off the stage with his guitar being gripped by ring clad fingers, had gotten glimpses of almost reserved smiles she felt were too quiet for someone who owned such loud talent, but she knew she wasn't ready to actually face him herself.

So she listened and admired from afar, even though she desperately yearned to do so much more.

"You look like you got an hour's worth of sleep last night." Annette huffed as she shot Luke a look, settling down in her seat once he took his backpack off and dropped it on the floor so she could sit. Apparently a few days into the semester and some students thought it was okay to steal her unofficial-official seat.

Annette leaned back against the chair once she had her laptop in front of her and had taken off her favorite red framed and lensed sunglasses and Beats, letting out a drawn out sigh that carried the weight of her exhaustion. "Because I think I did," she responded tiredly, the silvery tone she normally spoke in coming out as a heavy drawl. "Work didn't let out until ten and I had a paper due at midnight and then Poe got sick and—" Annette cut herself off with a complaining groan, though she kept the sound quiet as people filtered into the classroom, sinking into her chair. "I'm ready to drop dead, honestly."