Synergy

Frequenting the local bars had become Brian Haner's new thing. He still held up to the Tradition of going to Johnny's Saloon every Thursday night with the crew, but every other night he was at some other bar, drinking his usual Guinness beer and picking the label off the glass bottle. There were plenty of bars in Huntington, but he had gotten all of those within two weeks. Now, he took the half hour drive and hour worth of rush hour traffic to start his advance on the city of Los Angeles.

His pockets were not running dry from gas money, seeing as he took it upon himself to drive his Harley rather than the large SUV he had bought himself not too long ago, and Brian knew his limit when it came to drinking and driving - five beers or four Jack Daniels shots - and after that he would drink a bottle of water or two and then go back home.

The reason for his bar hopping, though, was what kept him from drinking that extra beer or shot and then driving back home. His family couldn't lose another member.

In exactly three weeks, it would make a year that his family had sweet and beloved Jimmy. Three months prior to his passing, their best friend Matt had gotten married to his high school sweet heart, and in three months Brian would be doing the same thing, and marrying her twin sister.

But now, after drinking about half of his second beer, Brian was beginning to have second thoughts on the whole marriage thing. That was Matt, and Johnny, and even Zacky, but marriage was not Brian's thing. He tried his hardest to believe it, but the more Michelle planned and the more Brian had t sit and stew on the situation, the more he began to think that he shouldn't have gotten her ring and they should have just stayed as a simple couple.

Things were going to change now. Things that Brian didn't want to change. Soon she was going to think about having kids and Brian Haner, Jr. was not a kid-person. He could deal with his nephews and his little sister, the little lovable brat that she was, but he couldn't deal with babies. Brian Haner didn't do babies. Michelle wanted a baby; she wanted it almost more than the want to get married.

"You better clean up that mess you made or I'll kick your ass."

Brian looks up from the shredded beer bottle label and to the bartender standing in front of him. She makes eye contact, showing off her dark brown eyes, while passing a mixed drink to a guy sitting a seat down from Brian. He looks down at the paper and sighs to himself before looking up at the woman.

"Sorry, force of habit."

She purses her lips before reaching under the counter for a small trashcan and wipes the paper into the plastic bag in the can.

"How long have you stopped smoking?"

Brian is surprised. She sees it and the pursed lips crack into a smirk.

"I've been a bartender for almost six years. The only people that peel off beer labels are smokers and people with a bad case of social anxiety."

"About two years," he says, knowing there's no use to hold back his answer. It's true, ever since Michelle made him quit smoking, Brian always had to be doing something with his hands. It was the only way to keep calm without getting agitated from a craving.

"I bet it doesn't help that you have those," she says, tapping one skinny finger on his knuckle. The faded red tattoos of MARLBORO inked across seems brighter than they used to. Brian just makes a grunt, curling his fingers into a fist before taking a deep swallow of what's left of his beer. He looks up only to find her standing on the other end of the bar, taking an order from a giggling redhead that has obviously never ordered any type of alcoholic beverage before.

Brian takes a total of two seconds to decided whether he'll take a third beer or if he will head back home and watch something on the cooking channel while Pinkly slips in his lap.

"You going to be okay driving yourself home?"

Brian is, once again, surprised by her appearance. He nods.

"M'kay. Have a good night."

She takes the empty bottle and drops it under the counter top. The glasschinks loudly. The bartender walks away, grabbing a bottle of scotch and a small glass under from a shelf to pour another drinking soul a drink. He watches her, his hands clasped together as he tries to decide if he really go home or just drive down the coast for awhile. The salt air has always calmed him.

"Are you just going to sit there staring at me or order another drink?"

Third time's the charm.

"What's your name?" Brian asks, feeling curious about this woman. Usually, most bartenders keep to themselves and not pull out their inner therapist. Drunk words are a sober man's thoughts.

She smirks. "Why do you want to know?"

Brian wondered the same thing. What was so special about her? Nothing. She had brown eyes and colored hair that had a strange tint to it in the dim light and full lips that looked like they couldn't keep a secret. But then, a switched flicked and he knew why she was so special.

"You... remind me of someone."

Her smirk grew into a grin. "Jamie. And you are?"

"Brian," he says quickly, and then stands, his hands shoved in his jean pockets. "I'll see you around."

"Bye, Brian. Have a safe drive home."

She pats the counter, giving him a friendly smile, and walks away to complete more orders. Brian watches her before finally making himself leave. He had to get out of that bar because he couldn't breathe. She didn't have his eyes, or his freakish height, or even the long skinny, crooked fingers, but everything about this 'Jaime' screamed Jimmy and it scared Brian.

But it scared him in a good kind of way.

The way that made him realize just what he wanted in life.


I'M NOT COMING BACK


It was the day after his encounter with the sassy bartender that Brian was sitting with the rest of the guys and girls in Johnny's Saloon, the usual Thursday night, just laughing and caring on like they used to. Even thought two bodies were missing - one because of being six feet under and the other because she felt uncomfortable around the others without her drummer - it felt like it used to when they were just making music and living life. They had been there for maybe an hour when Brian stands from the round, large booth.

Everyone stops their conversation when he clears his throat, and every pair of eyes is on him. Michelle lightly grabs his wrist, and tugs his eyes in her direction.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asks, but the glow of I'm getting married soonglows in her eyes. They're brown too, but not the same as Jamie's -

"I don't want to get married," he says, and that glow breaks in thousands of pieces. Her hand lets go of his wrist. She sits back and starts to breath in deeply. "I love you, I do, but I don't want to get married."

And then Brian leaves, taking a cab since Michelle had the keys to his SUV in her purse, and finds himself in front of the same bar he had been at just twenty-four hours before. Everything had slipped into a blur for him.

This Jamie, the rough-edged bartender with dyed hair and dark eyes and too-big lips, has caught his attention and he doesn't know why. He understands that she reminds him of a bit less-rough version of Jimmy, but everything in his life reminds him of Jimmy.

She just reminds him of a different Jimmy that not many got to know. Brian wasn't even sure if Leana got to see that side of Jimmy.

Jimmy was always loving and always looking for a laugh, but when he went into his music-writing mode, or when he had just one too many drinks, or when something emotionally crushed him - like when he found out that Leana had a miscarriage three months into her pregnancy - there was this part of Jimmy that slipped out and that was what Brian missed about his best friend.

It was the side of Jimmy that made him Jimmy 'The Rev' Sullivan.

Everything had been a blur since that faithful day, three days after Christmas. Everything blended together, all the colors, all the sounds, everything. But then this bartender smacked him from his stupor and pulled his head out of his ass with a simple threat that made him stop picking at the label of his beer. She wasn't a blur like all the people around him, like Michelle and Matt and Zacky and Johnny and the Twins. She wasn't a blur like the various alcoholic drinks he had been shoving down his throat for almost a year. There were three weeks left until the anniversary of Jimmy's death and everything had been a blur - until the night before when he had met her. Jamie.

The inside of the bar is just as dimly light as the night before, and he finds himself back at the seat from the night before, watching as she finishes up with another customer. She looks at him, recognition lighting up her dark eyes. Jamie smirks and sashays over to him, wiping her hands on her jeans.

"Well if it isn't Brian the label-picker. What can I get you tonight?"

"Can we talk?"

She purses her lips again, and glances to the left to look at the clock.

"I get off in about an hour if you want to wait."

He nods and rests his fore arms on the bar, leaning against them. She frowns.

"You have to get something if you're gonna sit there."

"Guinness," he replies without missing a beat. She grins and reaches under the bar. There's the sound of ice shifting before she puts a bottle in front of him, and with her handy-dandy bottle opener, she has the top off.

"Good choice," she mumbles with a friendly wink and walks over to an elder man three seats down. Brian watches her talk to him. He must be a regular as the two have a very long conversation, which includes her giving a full, true laugh and a wink to the graying male.

That laugh. Brian stops breathing for a few seconds, staring in complete awe. Their laughs were identical. It was from the diaphragm. It was full and hardy and made her shoulders shake. Her teeth showed, her tongue was pressed against her bottom lip. Those too-big lips seemed to finally fit. Her laugh was her best feature.

That hour didn't blur. Brian could recall every second, when he smiled at something that passed through his head or when she would pass by him and flick something in his direction, intentionally hitting him with a piece of rolled up paper or a bottle cap. He could name every song that played over the stereo, and he actually sung along with a few. The hour didn't blue, meaning it was taking much too long to go by. Brian found himself almost bored into death, but Jamie would do something that would catch his attention. He could barely take his eyes off the girl during the whole hour. When midnight finally hit, Brian felt like Cinderella. He wanted to make a run for it and maybe find a carriage to speed off with into the night, but when Jamie took his half-drunk bottle of beer and tossed it into a trash can Brian stood and stuffed his hands back in his pockets. His fingers fiddled with his phone and wallet.

"So, you wanted to talk?" she says, slipping a plain black jacket over her white button up, and pulls a carton of cigarettes from the pocket. "You mind?" she says, motioning toward the box and the lighter she has in her hands. Most quitters would decline, but Brian had put up with Zacky smoking around him all the time so this was nothing he couldn't handle. Besides, all he could stand to smoke was Marlboro.

They got to her car, a dark red Mustang that had two comfortable leather seats. He looks at it through the window as she gets in and starts up the vehicle. Jamie lets the windows down and looks at Brian, blowing a breath of smoke out in his direction.

"You gonna stand there and admire my ride, or are you going to get in?"

"Where are we going?" he asks, and even though he just broke off his engagement with the girl he's been with for almost five years, he's iffy getting into the car with the female.

"My place, duh," she replies, taking in another deep breathe of tobacco and nicotine.

For once in a long time, Brian lives a little and gets into the car. She pulls away, turning the radio down to a low volume and smokes more of the cigarette. Brian sits, not comfortable but also not uncomfortable, beside her, watching as the city of LA blurs into lights.

But Jamie is not a blur. She is crystal clear and Brian can see all he needs to see, but he wants to see more. He wants to know what makes her smile and what makes her sad and what food she eats when she's sick and what side of the bed she sleeps on and what scent she likes the most. He wants to know so much, because if she's anything like Jimmy then he could probably answer those himself.

"What do you want to talk about?" Jamie asks, flicking her cigarette out the window but she keeps the windows down, letting the wind blow through her colored hair. She glances over at Brian, waiting for him to answer. It takes him a few minutes.

"I called off my wedding," he says. She's surprised, but he thinks she knew it was coming. "My best friend died almost a year ago." Jamie stays quiet, pulling the car down a quiet street. They couldn't have been driving for more than fifteen minutes when she pulls up to a small flat. It fit her.

"Do you want me to say anything or do you just want me to listen?" Jamie asks after they sit in her idle, parked car for a few minutes.

"Do you mind just listening?"

"Not at all."

And somehow, Brian finds himself sitting outside her bathroom door as she showers on the other side. He tells her, pretty much, his whole life story, because, sadly, he feels more comfortable with a stranger than he does his own friends. Jamie listens, just as she said she would.

Notes

Finally got this out. The next chapter will be coming up soon, hopefully. I'm still working out how I want to do this story. Comment and subscribe, please! Don't be a silent reader. Make my day?

(plus if you comment you get a sneak peak of the next chapter.)