I Guess They Never Disappear

I

Alana POV

Zoe kisses me quickly before she heads onto the stage of the bar she's performing at tonight. 

I'm only going to be able to stay for the first half of her set tonight, but she's made it clear that whatever I can do is enough for her. 

She greets the crowd and they cheer loudly. I sit down on a stool, certain that I look so out of place here in my suit, fresh from an interview with a possible clerkship interview with a representative of the local circuit court. 

Picking up her guitar, Zoe strums a few experimental chords before adjusting the microphone one last time and beginning the song. 

I recognize the song almost instantly. 

It's one of her first ones she wrote on her own, although she won't tell me exactly when she wrote it. The peppy chords don't really seem to fit the words she's singing: a story about a broken family and a forgotten child. I've got my suspicious about the song, of course, but I understand enough to not push it with her. 

Six years isn't enough time to heal all wounds; all I can do to help is to hold her now, for the days when she didn't have someone to do that for her. 

The song ends and the entirety of the bar rises in a wave to applaud my girlfriend. I clap loudly, smiling proudly at her. 

For a second, in the middle of a crowded bar, we make eye contact and she smiles back and I fall in love again, even though I've been dating her for four years. 

Then the moment is over, and Zoe's telling the crowd the title of the song and they clap again and she falls back into another song. Her auburn hair sparkles under the blue and green lights illuminating the stage, the sleeve of her top on her left arm falling back just enough to show the copper bracelet I got her for our third anniversary of getting together. 

She's beautiful. 

It's no time at all when she finishes the first half of her set and waves to the crowd. People start moving again and so does Zoe; she climbs down from the stage, looking around for me. I wave, trying to catch her attention. It works. 

She walks over to me, smiling brightly. 

"Hey there, darling," she says.

"Hi, love," I say, kissing her gently on the cheek. "Your set was amazing; I'm sad I won't be able to stay for the rest of it."

"Aww, thanks. I'll miss having my beautiful girlfriend in the crowd. Who else am I supposed to look at between songs, then?"

I pout, an uncharacteristic move for me. 

Zoe elbows me. 

"Aww, is 'Lana pouting? If you keep doing that, I might just have to take you out for dessert."

"So my powers of persuasion are on point?"

"Right now they are. Speaking of which, how'd the interview go?"

I smile. "I think it went pretty well; the interviewer seemed impressed with what I had to say."

"How could anybody not be impressed?"

"Plenty of people, Zoe."

"Well, I'll just have to convince them myself, then, right?"

A man dressed in a black t-shirt and ripped jeans calls out to Zoe. 

"I guess this is my cue to leave, huh?" I ask, not wanting to leave just yet. 

"I guess it is. I'll see you back at the apartment when this finishes, okay? Do you want me to pick up food from the Burmese place on my way home?"