Almost Easy

Tyler had found a friend in Matt. They basically hadn’t stopped chatting since the first round of drinks were delivered—and then the second.
Jimmy kept making crazy eyes at me, sliding drink after drink in my direction. I wasn’t one to argue when it came to consumption of alcohol but I was keeping a mental running total of my tab. We weren’t exactly financially successful at that point so my bank account was already looking quite tired.
“So, you’re a drummer,” I said finally, desperately needing a break from the whiskey.
Jimmy tried not to laugh, “Okay.”
I felt instantly stupid.
“You’re a good drummer,” I tried again. “Like…really good.”
“Thanks,” he almost blushed. That took me by surprise. “My left leg tries to bring me down but me and righty get through it.”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking but I laughed anyway.
“This is your singer, right?” I asked, gesturing to Matt with my thumb. “That’s M. Shadows?”
“The one and only,” Jimmy nodded in agreement.
“Your names are cute,” I winked. “Very rock and roll.”
Jimmy scowled, “Metal.”
“Right, right—sorry, they’re very metal.”
He beamed with pride, “That was the goal. I think we’ve achieved it.”
“In stride,” I giggled. “So, what’s this guy then?” I gestured to the blonde kid named Alex.
“A straggler,” Jimmy shrugged. “A leach.”
I smiled and gestured to Johnny.
“Bass,” Jimmy answered. “Makes sense for you to not know the bassist.”
Johnny must have caught this because he looked genuinely annoyed. He gave a light punch to the right side of Jimmy’s ribcage. Jimmy only grinned.
The crowd had been growing steadily as time bore us forward. I’d already been at this booth for nearly two hours longer than I’d intended. I was as drunk as I was bored. I knew that I should be living in the moment but I was struggling to find the dedication.
I was exhausted.
“Hey, is there anywhere to go to get some air?” I asked Jimmy, the only one in the group that was paying any attention to me.
He nodded his head to the back of the building, “There’s a door to the left of the bar, it’ll take you upstairs.”
“Thanks,” I forced a smile. “I’m gonna go catch a quick smoke outside.”
Tyler’s ears perked up and he whipped around to face me.
“You’re leaving?” he asked desperately.
I scrunched my face, “No, Mom. I’m just going outside for a bit.”
“You’ll come back?” Tyler asked. “Should I come with?”
I looked from Tyler to Matt, who was also staring at me now.
The moths in my gut started their routine again.
“No, no,” I rushed with a wave, “I’m fine. I’ll be back soon.”
I waved sheepishly to Jimmy before taking my leave. The crowd was difficult to weave through but I managed to get to the other side with very little trouble. I patted my pockets to make sure I hadn’t lost my cigarettes in the sea of people—to my relief, they were still on board.
Just as Jimmy had said, there was a big black door illuminated only by the EXIT sign above. The lights flickered with the bass. I pushed through the door and carried myself up the stairs.
The journey was winding me rapidly much to my embarrassment.
I should really quit smoking.
Regardless of the thought, I lit a cigarette the second I was greeted by the chill wind. The rooftop was fairly populated, a bar sat in the northeast corner, patio lights were strung up everywhere.
Even with my obvious anxieties, I could appreciate how cool this place was.
I grabbed myself another drink and began the search for an unoccupied table at which to rest my nerves. They were all full.
Oh! There!
A table of two got up to vacate their seats—I wasted no time snatching the table up for myself. I gave them a subtle smile as I positioned myself in the woman’s former chair. She gave me a really disgusted look but left, so I didn’t really care.
I took a long haul on my cigarette, closed my eyes, and tried to imagine I was somewhere else—somewhere quiet and alone.
It wasn’t working.
I let my head fall into my arms on the tabletop. My hand instinctively moved the cigarette away from my hair—that was all I needed, to catch my mane on fire. The amount of chemicals I’d invested into my hair over the years would surely act as kindling given the opportunity.
I should have gone home.
I was, in that moment, decidedly a stick in the mud. Thanks, Ty.
“Are you okay?” a man asked me.
It occurred to me that if I refused to lift my head, he might just go away. However, the odds were probably greater that if I refused to lift my head, the stranger might touch me in an effort to ensure I was still breathing.
If I could go without being touched, I might survive the night.
So, with great resistance, I pulled my head back onto my shoulders.
“I’m fine,” I groaned, darting my eyes up to meet with the man who had disturbed my rest.
He was gorgeous.
That was beside the point.
He looked at me with his eyebrows high and his eyes wide, “Yeah, ya look it.”
“I’m fine,” I said again. “It’s just really fucking loud here.”
“Yeah, it’s a party,” he scoffed. “There’s not usually quiet.”
He was gorgeous but he was rude.
“Thank you for filling me in,” I retorted sarcastically. “I wasn’t sure if this was, in fact, a party—but now that you’ve confirmed it, I’ll be sure to make a note in my diary tonight.”
“Dear Diary, today a stranger at a party was a total dick to me,” he said with a smirk.
I caved and smiled, “Exactly.”
“Anyone ever told you that you’re kind of broody?” he asked lightly.
I sighed and groaned, “No, never.”
“Glad I could confirm that for you, too,” he joked. “Mind if I join you? Every table up here is full. I promise I’ll be quiet.”
I shrugged.
The god of a man took this as permission, I guess, because he seated himself across from me with a thud. He pushed his dark hair away from his face, a piece that wasn’t perfectly spiked out from his head, anyway. His dark eyes met mine but my heart couldn’t handle it. I broke contact and forced myself to stare at my hands.
Bad, Blair. Bad.
This was probably why I hadn’t had a boyfriend since high school. I could hardly bring myself to even look at one that remotely caused any disruption in my undergarments.
He looked around impatiently, his lips pursed but entertained.
I glanced up at him periodically, pretending I was looking just past him.
Smooth.
I took one last drag of my cigarettes before smashing it into the ashtray.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “Permission to speak?”
I twitched subtly, “Granted.”
“Do you think I could bum one of those?” he pointed to my dead cigarette. “I left my pack downstairs.”
“Sure, go nuts,” I tossed my open pack onto the table.
He looked at the pack and then at me, “Marlborough? Good choice.”
“It’s the only good brand,” I shrugged. “If they’re good enough for Carrie Bradshaw, they’re good enough for me.”
“Carrie Bradshaw?” he asked, signaling to me that he was still in need of a lighter.
I obliged him and couldn’t help but stare as the flame lit up his perfectly sculpted jaw, I shook the image away, “Uh, yeah. Sex and the City.”
“Right,” he said with a chest full of smoke.
“Never seen it?” I asked like the fucking awkward twat that I was.
I internally pummeled myself.
“No,” he smiled, breathing the nicotine out through his nostrils. “Should I have?”
I shook my head, “No.”
“Glad we cleared that up,” he grinned.
Get it together.
“I’m normally this awkward,” I said seriously.
I caught myself admiring his smile. Clearly I was having a moment.
“Me too,” he winked lazily, taking another puff of the cigarette.
I bit at my lip nervously. As soon as I broke skin, I realized that I was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. A man hadn’t made me this nervous since…well—maybe never. Granted, I wasn’t usually talking to men that I didn’t already know.
Most men I knew had already done something to divert my attention. This guy, though, was too pretty not to gush over.
“My name’s Brian by the way,” he extended his hand to me. “Figure I should at least give you my name since you so kindly gave me your cigarettes.”
“I gave you one cigarette,” I corrected as I snatched my pack back. “Don’t be greedy.”
He smiled. He was staring at me expectantly. My eyebrow fell a tad, and I could feel anxiety tugging on my lapel again.
“What?” I asked finally, overcome with the discomfort his gaze put on me.
“Is your name a secret?” he smirked. “Do I have to guess it?”
“Yes,” I said weakly. “If you can get it on the first try, I’ll forfeit my pack to you.”
“Oo,” he breathed in the sexiest way, his eyes glimmered, “A challenge.”
I tried to look confident. My disgusting lip-biting habit was probably giving my anxiousness away. So, I sat up straighter and wiggled my eyebrows a couple times. If I couldn’t be sexy, I could be witty. I was born witty. I was molded by wit. I could do this.
“Let’s have it, Brian,” I put a serious emphasis on his name both for dramatic effect and, well, for my own benefit of feeling his name slip between my lips.
Shameless.
He paused, surveying me in great detail. He took a long, exaggerated haul on the cigarette pursed between his perfect lips. His lips flickered with slight amusement but also with a hint of arrogance.
In his case, the arrogance was a major turn on.
“Hmm,” he hummed. “Jessica…no, you don’t look like a Jessica. You look like your name is unique, but not too unique.”
I maintained my poker face.
“Brooke,” he started again, keeping his dark eyes locked on mine. “No, that’s not right either.”
“You’re not going to get it,” I challenged with my best come-hither stare.
He obliged me, pushing himself part-way across the table and closer to me, he grinned—I nearly fainted.
I tried not to flinch but I was terrified as he moved closer.
He was leaning across the table, close enough that I could pick out the light flecks in his eyes. I was drowning in his scent—and also in the second-hand smoke.
Finally, he grinned, parting his lips only slightly, “Blair.”
With that, he slumped back to his side of the table like the whole exchange was a figment of my imagination.
Was it?
I was stunned.
“How the fuck—“
He let out a hearty laugh, “You’re the singer of Haven, aren’t you?”
I still had not gotten used to people knowing who our band was—or who I was.
I hesitated, shifting my weight in my chair uncomfortably, “Oh—yeah.”
He raised his eyebrows at me and extended his palm across the table, “Cough ‘em up.”
“Can I at least take one first?” I pouted. “It would help ease the pain of my loss.”
Actually smooth. Good work, you.
He nodded, “I guess it’s the least I can do.”
I slid a cigarette from my pack before reluctantly sliding the remainders across the table to Brian. He chucked the lit cigarette into the ashtray to make friends with mine.
I lit my cigarette and sighed.
“So, you’ve heard of my band, huh?” I mused absently.
He sipped at his drink for the first time since he sat down, “Yeah, of course. You guys are the new ‘thing’.”
“Thing?” I scoffed. “I don’t know about that.”
“It’s true,” he shrugged. “I dig your music; the guitar is great.”
“Thanks,” I blushed.
“Vocals are so-so,” he smirked.
I laughed, choking on my smoke, “Fuck you!”
“If you insist,” he winked.
I nearly died. It took everything that I had to stay seated upright and not fall straight onto the floor. He was cocky and I was eating it up. I wasn’t well-versed in sexual innuendo responses.
“Oh, please,” I tried to sound sarcastic. “I’m dying to get me some of that.”
He seemed pleased, “So, what brings you to the roof, anyway? Everyone inside bore you?”
“No,” I shrugged, still recovering from his unwavering confidence. “If anything, they’re too entertaining. I don’t do well in crowds.”
“How is that?” he asked whimsically. “You guys play to some big crowds, no?”
“Yeah,” I paused. “It’s different…I don’t know.”
He patted my hand with his, “I’m just giving you the gears. I get it.”
“Oh,” I forced a smile. “I’m incredibly socially awkward. Being on stage is totally different—I’m someone else when I’m on stage.”
“I get that too,” he beamed, pulling his hand back to his respective side of the table.
“Are you a musician too?” I asked curiously.
In retrospect, I’m really stupid.
He shrugged, “I dabble.”
I figured he was a session musician.
“What do you play?” I continued my train of misplaced curiosity.
“Guitar mostly.”
I nodded like that meant anything to me, “That’s cool. Are you any good?”
“No,” he laughed. “No, not at all.”
“Me neither,” I smiled.
He glanced toward the door that lead downstairs and then back at me. I knew what that meant without him saying a word—another one chased off by my complete lack of interesting talking points. I was hardly a conversationalist. But hey, at least I’d given it a go this time.
Progress.
“I should probably go find my friends,” he sighed. “Did you want to come in with me?”
I seriously wanted to—fuck, I would have gone with him to the deepest trenches of hell if he asked me nicely. But the reality was that I just wasn’t ready yet. I could still hear the roars of the crowd creeping through the edges of the building. I hadn’t had a chance to regain my thoughts yet.
“No, you go ahead,” I waved. “Maybe I’ll catch up with you inside later.”
He pulled himself to his feet, giving me a perfect view of what he was working with. I was not disappointed.
“I hope you do,” he said. “I’m keeping these as collateral,” he held up my former pack of cigarettes. “Maybe I’ll give them back—if you ask nicely.”
My face got hot real fast, “Well then I guess I’ll be looking for you tonight.”
He winked, “I’ll see you later.”
And he was gone. But you best believe I watched him go—and you best believe he turned his head to look back at me.
Hot damn.

Notes