Work Text:
...I hope you get your ballroom floor, Your perfect house with rose red doors...
Fareeha swayed along with the music pumping out from the speakers. Her friends were screaming out the lyrics with her as the band played on stage. She had seen them live plenty of other times before but when they started her favorite song, she punched Brigitte in the shoulder in her excitement. “Fucker!” she yelled at her in response. Fareeha just laughed and began hopping up and down to the rhythm knowing Brigitte wasn’t actually mad.
...I came out breathing, barely breathing, and you came out alright. But I’m sure you’ll take his hand...
While the song ringing in her ears was about a break-up, Fareeha had not been as emotionally wrecked by her last failed relationship as her friends would’ve thought. Working in security like she did, it took someone rather -- unique -- to be able to stick around with her. While she didn’t mind being third wheel most of the time to Brigitte and Hana, thoughts of finding someone again lingered in the back of her head.
...And that’s the last thing I remember. It’s been a long, lonely December...
The venue was bristling with energy as the crowd got more and more into the song as it went. Fareeha scanned around her immediate vicinity when she saw her. A woman with blonde hair tied together in the back and a large swath falling off the right side of her forehead. She was jumping up and down to the music and singing just as loudly as Fareeha and her group. The Blonde was in a group with another woman and two men who were all smiling and enjoying just how much the Blonde was getting into it. Fareeha couldn’t help but smile too.
The Blonde was incredibly cute and Fareeha felt her heart hammer even faster in her chest as she watched her. Where Fareeha was built thick, with muscular arms and legs, the Blonde seemed to have a softer, athletic frame with accentuating curves. Normally she wouldn’t have been Fareeha’s type but there was something about the way her smile brightened up the room even more than the lights flashing throughout the venue. As the song’s final chords strummed out and the band kicked right up into a new one, Fareeha kept her eyes on the Blonde when the woman in question turned around and stared back.
...I can’t put my faith in a fallacy. I just wanna get one up on life before it kills me...
Oh my god. Fareeha wanted to be swallowed up into the floor. How could she have made it so obvious that she was admiring the other girl. She did her best to come off as smooth as possible by flashing a quick smile and miraculously the Blonde smiled right back and gave her a “devil horns” -- the universal sign of rocking out. The juxtaposition of the shorter, bubbly Blonde giving her the horns made her laugh out loud, before the Blonde turned back to face the stage.
“Did that just happen?” Brigitte attempted to ask over the cacophonous roar of the music.
“I have no fucking idea.” Fareeha yelled back trying to contemplate the whole thing.
“GO TALK TO HER!” Hana screamed as she grabbed Fareeha by the arms and shook her.
...I saw it all flash and pass by with bright lights, And right before my eyes was the exit sign. I saw it all flash and pass by, And asked why I wasted precious time...
Either it was the music blasting from the speakers or the flashing strobes giving everything a neon tint, Fareeha felt a surge of bravery run through her being. She steeled her nerves, made one last look at Brigitte and Hana, and navigated through the crowd to where the Blonde was standing.
She gave her a tap on the shoulder to let her know she wanted to say something and leaned over close to the Blonde’s ear when she smiled and nodded in reaction. “They’re so good right!?” she whisper-yelled trying to get the words across over the sound of the song. “I know! It’s my first time seeing them!” the Blonde exclaimed back. Fareeha smiled at the sound of the voice that came from the Blonde. It was as cute as she was and contained a European accent she couldn’t quite pin down. The band on stage was from Wales but the accent from the woman wasn’t one of British origins.
“I’m Fareeha, by the way!”
“Angela!” the Blonde introduced herself.
Angel.
“Would you like a drink, Angela?” she offered cautiously.
Fareeha nearly fainted when Angela held out her hand waiting for her to take it and lead them over to the bar on the side wall next to the floor. “I’d love one!” It didn’t take her long to grab the outstretched hand and make their way through the packed crowd.
The rest of the show went by in a blur and by the time the band was done with the encore, Fareeha was positively smitten with the Swiss blonde named Angela Ziegler.
Before she had to head back to meet up with Brigitte and Hana, Fareeha had saved down Angela’s number in her phone and promised to text her later in the week. In all honesty she knew she wouldn’t even last until dinner time tomorrow.