Chapter Text
I was there against my better judgment.
I was all full of how much I didn't want to be there, with my demeanor, my posture, my outfit.
I wore a simple baggy tee and a pair of jeans with Chucks, my red Chucks that matched what half of the band was wearing, because we bought them together. The Chucks that were beat up, soles separating, laces dingy, drawn on with black Sharpie, from months of walking the streets of New York. My daily shoes.
Hardly a "notice me" ensemble. Hardly something that would draw unnecessary attention. Definitely not something that looked like I'd spent hours in my apartment before arriving trying to perfect some version of myself. The version of me that didn't care.
Because I didn't care. That was totally it. Undeniably, certainly, clearly...it.
I had shown up in an "I don't know, fuck you," type of way. As in, that would be my excuse should any wandering band member ask.
In fact, I had shown up to support the only one of them I wasn't currently pissed at. I wanted to see my friend perform something he'd been working on for a long time. I was at a club on the Lower East Side to see only him, not the four others that didn't quite deserve my love at the current moment.
As the drunken gang tumbled onto the stage and I watched them tune their instruments from the back of the room, I realized that there weren't many people there to shield me from their gazes. Not enough bodies to stop me from getting noticed and then promptly getting the "I knew you'd come, you silly, reactionary girl," look from a certain guitarist.
So as the guitars chugged out the opening to a song I'd heard before, in private, I shrunk down against the wall, nearly blowing bubbles in my drink with my nose. Trying in vain to disappear as the members of the band looked out across the crowd of roughly 25.
I listened with a level of understanding that not many others in the room had. Not even other members of the band were hearing it the way I was. I heard him growl out the lyrics at almost a mumble, or a murmur. It felt private. It felt like when I'd heard it for the first time.
The set went by in a blur of cigarette smoke with help from the Heineken I was nursing. I refused to look up, focusing my attention on my aforementioned red shoes. I stared at the doodles the drummer scribbled on the toes and tried to suppress a smile at the memories that came along with each.
I listened to the music in awe because, shit, they sounded good. Despite their drunken bravado and haphazard image, they sounded polished. Together. It was a marvel.
Only during the last song did I dare look up. During the last lines that rang out across the room. After the guitar solo that made my eyebrows raise out of surprise, because he was good, even while too sloshed to see straight. Muscle memory.
But I'll try my luck with you / Oh, this life is on my side
Well, I'm your one / Believe me, this is a chance.
My eyes landed upon Nikolai, first. The one I wasn't pissed at. He stared pointedly down at his fingers plucking out the notes to the end of the song.
Then, Nick, who looked as loose and lanky as ever, also looking intently at what his fingers were doing upon the frets. 100% focus was required when he was that far gone. I could see it in the flush in his cheeks.
Fab looked as if he were about to throw his back out with hit upon the drum kit. He held a cigarette lazily between his lips.
I dared glance at Albert's side of the stage, which was all flailing curly hair and dexterity, as he bent over his instrument and jumped around as if the performance mattered more than the chords he was meant to play. I scoffed at his audacity to look so care-free in a situation such as this one.
Then, of course, my eyes fell upon the lead singer as he crooned the final words of the final chorus. I didn't want to look at his face. His figure stood hunched behind the mic stand, holding on for dear life as if he were afraid it would grow legs run away, leaving him to fall over on account of his wobbly legs and inability to see straight. I grew almost seasick looking at him.
My temptation got the best of me, and I flicked my gaze upward to Julian's face. My breath hitched. Because while everyone in the room was watching him, he was looking straight at me. Squarely. Puppy dog eyes peeking out over the mic, unreadable, as always.
And the song drew to a close.
It was Fabrizio who launched himself off the stage at me first, wrapping me in a death-trap-like hug. I barely had time to put my still-half-full beer on the nearest high-top table before he got me.
"You came!" he exclaimed, high on the energy of performing, and maybe some other things as well, squeezing me around my arms tightly. I didn't get time to hug him back before he released me, hopping back about a foot to let his bandmates see me.
"I did," I answered as nonchalantly as I could, keeping my eyes trained on Fab as Nick and Nikolai came strolling up behind him. I watched them arrive in my blurred periphery.
"Maeve," Nick greeted, a shit eating grin plastered upon his thin face when I eventually looked up at him. "Good to see you."
"Nick," I replied, matching his tone, though maintaining an icy cold expression, squashing the smile that threatened at the corners of my mouth, because again, I was supposed to be mad at them. Even if they did just totally kill their set.
I smiled warmly at Nikolai and hugged him, proving a point, because of course I did, whispering good job, in his ear as I did. All the while Albert snuck up on my left side and grabbed me playfully around my waist, picking me up and spinning me while planting a number of kisses on my face. "Hi Maaaeevvee," he cooed. "I knew you'd come." He was so drunk.
He released me from his grip for only a second before grabbing me by the shoulders, turning me to face him, and pulling me in to place a big, wet, sloppy kiss on my lips. The room around us started to swell as the next band was due to start their set in mere minutes.
"You know I can't resist you and your charms, Albère," I snarked, completely deadpan. "Oh, why don't you just have your way with me right here and now!" I rolled my eyes and turned away from him as he chuckled at my sour mood. He wrapped his drunken arms around me and pulled me close to him, my back upon his chest, and rested his chin on my shoulder.
It was then Fabrizio who got in on the love-fest and stepped forward to also plant a kiss on me, his landing sweetly on my cheek. "How'd we do?" he asked excitedly.
"I'll be honest," I started, demurely, as if I were about to deliver some bad news. "You unfortunately..." I took a beat, letting the word land to watch the expression on his face change, "...sounded good as shit, and this next band is going to have a rough time following you." Fab smiled brightly, as did Nick and Nikolai.
"Seeeeee guys!" Albert trilled, finally releasing me to stroll over to Nick and put his hands on his shoulders. "She loves us!"
"Can't help it, no matter how hard I try," I muttered wryly.
"You staying to watch these guys?" Nick asked, gesturing toward the new group of men that had replaced them on the stage and were now tuning their instruments.
I shook my head. "I don't care about them. Only you fuckers," I deadpanned. "They could die in a ditch for all I care."
Nick feigned shock, dropping his jaw and placing a hand on his chest, before laughing. "Well, I'm going to stick around and watch the competition."
"Me too," Fab added. "Gotta scope it out." He had a funny way of saying things, with his higher-pitched voice and playful demeanor. I couldn't help but giggle a bit. "Nikolai?" he continued, poking his bandmate, who was watching the happenings at the front of the room, on his bicep. "You staying?"
"If you guys are, I guess," he answered quietly, barely turning his head to respond.
"Well, then," I began, slapping my thighs to signal finality. "I'm off, then."
"Whoa, you can't walk alone, miss," Albert chided, drawing out his words to really bring home the chivalry. "I will take you, no ifs, ands, or buts." He found his way back over to me and slung a lazy arm around my shoulder.
"Well aren't you just my knight in shining armor, Al," I joked.
I said my goodbyes to the three guys standing before us with hugs and kisses and snide remarks before I was entrapped in Albert's grip once more to make the walk outside. His hands were on my shoulders guiding me from behind. We weaved around bodies to the exit, both hit with crisp night air as the door opened. It was the time of year when it would be hot like summer during the day, but cardigan weather at night.
That was when I saw him. All brooding and dark, leaning against the wall, beside the door, chain-smoking cigarettes, as he usually was.
"Julien!" Albert exclaimed in an exaggerated French accent. "Ça va?" I was relieved by the jovial tone of his voice, thankful that they must have worked things out in private. He pulled me out of the way of the door, leaving the two of us and Julian standing on opposing sides of the opening, like palace guards. Then, he pulled me closer and hugged me tightly to him. Albert always smelled of cigarettes, beer, and amber.
Julian didn't reply with words. Only a slight raise of his eyebrows and a subtle nod. He held his lighter up to the cigarette that was held tightly between his chapped lips, then took a long drag. My stomach twisted. Things were not okay.
"I'm takin' Maeve home," Al announced proudly, slurring slightly. Things were really not okay.
Julian, again, did not reply. He stared icily into middle distance as he continued to smoke.
"And, we're gonna make out the entire way there," Albert continued, now in a race with himself to piss Julian off as quickly as possible. "And when we get to her place, well..."
Julian's head jerked up ever-so-slightly, something dark flashing across his eyes. I made quick work of noticing the shift. I had become good at that in the past year. Seeing beyond what he wanted to show you. "Albert," I warned.
"Is Cecilia home?" Julian mumbled, finally breaking his personal vow of silence. Asking a question, I could only assume, to make sure Albert would not actually try any funny business with me, despite knowing how Albert and I operated.
"Yeah," I answered, whipping my head to look back at Al, "Celia's home." A lie. But one that would calm Julian down. I made sure to warn Albert with my eyes to stop, but the booze that he had drank, made clear by the smell of his breath, only emboldened him. And, it gave him an idea of how my answer could piss Julian off even more.
"Ah, okay, so a threesome with Cecilia then," he answered, as if my private look at him insinuated so, nodding his head demonstratively. I stepped forward to release myself from him and turned around to look at him fully, arms crossed over my chest.
"Maybe you should stay here, Al," Julian grumbled from behind me. "You walking her home is about as safe as her walking alone right now, it seems." His tone was cold and sharp in a way that was truly scary to anyone, but especially those closest to him. It was when he was about to reach his limit.
Albert bit his bottom lip and clapped once, then pointed, as if Julian had just had the best idea ever. "Right. You alone with Maeve. Sounds like a grand time," he snarked. I turned to look at Julian just as he dropped his finished cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with his foot, all while maintaining eye contact with his best friend. It was a dark, pointed look. His way of communicating without words, as he often did.
"Alright," I spoke, breaking the tension. "Albert, stay here," I pointed at him, "Julian, stay here," I then spun and pointed at him, "I'm leaving." Then, without giving either of them a moment to protest, I set off in the direction of my apartment at a hasty pace, tired of them. Their bickering. The unspoken...thing.
Albert knew.
Julian knew.
I knew.
It was clear to anyone with eyes and ears and a basic understanding of human behavior.
And I was still not ready to confront it, at all. I walked a decent bit away, determined to make my escape without incident. I tuned my senses to anything but them. To the sounds of the cars around me, the sirens in the distance, the smell of the restaurant I walked by. Anything but the thing I needed to confront. Not here. Not now.
Until I heard familiar footsteps, paired with the jingling of the zippers on his jacket, and the unmistakable sound of the beads on his bracelet clacking together, and it made me freeze. It was amazing that just knowing he was perceiving me would set my skin alight.