Begin Again

chapter three

THE BASS CURRENTLY coming from the band onstage is loud enough to cause my chest to vibrate, the bodies pressed against me jumping around and swinging their hands in the air to the music.

I grip my drink tighter around my fingers, afraid it will go flying if I receive another shove from the person next to me.

"You'd think these people would understand personal space," Talia pipes loudly, wrinkling her nose as someone whips their hair in her face. I laugh while Veronica shakes her head as she brings the top of the beer bottle to her lips.

"What did you think a concert would be like, Tal?"

"Not like this," she complains, hiking her Chanel bag higher on her shoulder. Veronica and I exchange amused looks. Talia can be the most bougie of a person if she wants to. Moments have been abundant when Veronica or I would have to slowly explain mundane tasks to her, like doing laundry or cooking rice at the correct heat. Growing up in luxury hadn't trained her enough for the real world, and when we'd first moved to the city from our lives in New Jersey, she'd almost cried the first time she'd ridden on the subway.

She bought a car the next day.

"When is this dude coming on?" Veronica asks as the band currently onstage hits their last note, the crowd going nuts.

Talia looks down at her phone, shrugging. "I don't know; he just said he's playing tonight." She looks back up, casting me a devilish look. "He also invited us out after, Eve."

I quirk a brow. "And why do I care?"

"Because he's hot," Talia deadpans. "Not my type, but he'd be perfect for you."

I sigh, taking another swig of my drink. "Talia–"

She waves away my excuse, her blue eyes sparkling with delight. "You know what they say, the best remedy to get over someone is to get under someone else."

"Hello, New York!" A voice booms from the stage, the lights instantly going back up.

Talia squeals, jumping up and down next to me as she points to the stage. "There he is!"

I squint my eyes, leaning forward before a gasp falls from my lips. Standing on the stage is Miles, the exact Miles I'd met at the bar last night, the exact Miles who'd let me sleep in his bed. The same Miles with unruly curly hair and emerald eyes is scanning the crowd with a grin. He adjusts the microphone stand for a second, swinging a guitar over his fitted, black shirt, and I swear, I can see a few girls in the front row swooning.

"Sweet baby Jesus," Veronica says, her eyes bulging. She turns towards Talia and me before looking back at Miles. "How is a man that hot?"

I shake my head, looking back toward him, and almost like he can feel my gaze from the side of the room, he turns to look at me. Surprise flits across his face before he settles into a smirk, running his fingers over the guitar as a chord rings through the speakers.

"Excuse me?! What was that?" Talia demands, her gaze burning into the side of my face. I breathe out, my hands growing clammy.

"What do you mean?" I feign indifference, but Talia scoffs, giving me a don't even try to play dumb with me look. "He's the dude whose apartment I slept in last night," I mumble. Before Talia or Veronica can reply, Miles' guitar begins to boom through the amps. But the shove they each gave me in the arm means that the conversation is far from over.

"I wrote this song a few months back," Miles says into the mic. "It's called Open Up, and I hope you guys like it." My skin prickles as the music starts from the band behind him, the crowd letting out a few cheers.