JOHN TAYLOR - Vol. 2

Oneshot - Tel Aviv

May, 1980

I sat alone at a table, fidgeting impatiently in my seat, a chilled glass in hand, barely dampening the clamminess of my palms. I looked around the club, the Rum Runner I believe it was called, to a see a crowd of unfamiliar faces. I glanced at my watch, John had been gone for ten whole minutes. Was I ever going to see him again? Calm down, you're overreacting, I told myself. I took a sip from the glass, cool liquid splashing down my dry throat. I glanced over my shoulder to see the tables behind me filling up with more and more people, a lively chattering atmosphere rising in the club. It must've been almost time...

I turned back round to face the small stage, my fingernails rapping rhythmically against the glass as excitement and anticipation arose in my body. A flutter of whispers echoed from offstage and soon, a series of leather-clad figures emerged from the shadows, taking their place on stage. John caught my eye as he slipped on his bass guitar, shooting me a wink. Warmth bubbled inside me as I felt his eyes settle on mine. John's bandmate who they'd only recruited this month, Simon, stepped forward to the microphone. He nodded to Nick, who was hiding at the back of the stage behind his synthesiser, then to John. And with that, his lips parted to speak. 

"Uh, hello everybody, we're Duran Duran." He started up, making the crowd turn their heads.

"We're going to start off tonight with a tune called 'Sound of Thunder'." I squirmed inside as Nick's synthesiser began, eventually Roger's drums joining in, then the bass. I'd only heard it a thousand times before when Duran Duran were rehearsing next to Dexy's during the afternoons. I smiled. John's head arose from concentrating on the strings to meet mine. He smiled back at me, making me blush wildly. A small chuckle escaped from his painted lips, sending a light hum into to the microphone in front of him.

As they continued with their set, the usual 'Night Boat', 'Late Bar', 'Girls on Film' and so on, I couldn't pull my eyes away from John. The way his shoulders shimmied when his fingers slid up the fingerboard made me weak in the knees. I took another tentative sip from my glass, not daring to take my eyes off the stage. After about half an hour-or-so, Duran Duran took a deep bow and made their way for offstage. The crowd erupted in applause, begging them to come back on. They obliged, bashfully shuffling back on stage and rejoining their instruments to play 'Girls on Film' once more. I couldn't help but stand up and clap along as I watched a satisfied smirk spread across each of the members' faces. 

I sat back down, legs crossed, waiting. Duran Duran's performance had ignited an energetic atmosphere and it was hard to hear anything amongst the lively conversations that filled the club to the brim. I jumped in surprise as I felt two large hands slide over my shoulders. Hot breath tickled at my neck as a soft kiss was planted on my neck. I sighed. I turned round and rose to meet John, my arms sliding around his neck. 

"You guys were great tonight." I mumbled into his neck, my fingers gliding through his sweaty red hair.

"Really? You think so?" John replied, his finger gliding past my cheek. I leant forward on my toes to reach his lips, giving them a light peck.

"Yeah, I do." His arms trailed down to my waist, wrapping around me in order to pull me closer. I rested my head on John's chest, feeling his heart race from the exhilaration of performing, as we slowly swayed back and forth to the music playing in the background...