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Getting Friendly
The room, muggy with alcohol laced breath and sweat, was alive with chatter and laughs. An interesting scent of cologne and shady decisions swirled into the cracks and pores of bare skin. The image was an interesting one for sure. A group of three men, each carrying their respective instruments weaved between photographers and friends alike to the recovery room that was at my right. Currently I sat perched on the bar with a perfect birds eye view of the room and stage. The men that had just gotten off stage were replaced in but a moment and the sound of chords and beats continued their flow to the ears of the crowd. An extremely popular band was set to play next but instead of prepping for the show I saw two of them playing mercy, one sleeping, and the last one was sauntering into the room, his hair disheveled and freshly ravaged.
His eyes roamed the room lazily and despite him spotting his band mates, they didn't stop searching until they locked with my own. Long legs tucked into too right jeans made their way to my heightened body. Large hands, calloused with years of strumming guitar strings, parted my legs as a smirk lazily made it's way onto his lips. I returned his smirk with a careless smile of my own and a hard slap to the back of his head.
"You're a pervert," I said laughing as he turned his back to me and settled his body against the bar and between my legs. One of my hands wound into his already trashed hair in an attempt to straighten it. The other hung loosely over his left shoulder as he relaxed into my touch.
"And you're an abusive one, aren't you?", he asked with an obvious humor in his tone.
I leaned down until my lips were just touching his ear before I replied, "Mhm. But I hear you like it rough. Am I right?"
He groaned and grabbed onto my bare thigh, my shorts becoming too short all of a sudden. Before I knew what was happening he was eye level with me despite my advantage on the bar.
"You're very lucky that you're my closest friend or else I'd have half a mind to take what you said as a sexual advance," he spoke as his breath fanned across my face.
A grimace formed on my features and I stuck my tongue out at him in disgust, "breathe on me again and I'll end you."
I pushed his chest back and his weight teetered back and forth until he caught his balance. Cheers exploded drawing my attention from the mess of a man in front of me and to the flow of bodies exiting the stage. I turned back around and nodded my head towards the lights as I made my way to grab the attention of the other three. In a matter of seconds all of them were fumbling for their instruments. A groan was emitted from the sleepy one as he cursed at the bassist for not waking him up earlier. I stood with my arms crossed, rolling my eyes at the idiocy before me, knowing in moments they'd be screamed for by man-hungry girls.
My head peered from behind the curtain on the side of the stage and I was in awe. No matter how many times I witnessed these crowds I was always astounded by the presence my friends had.
The venue was surprisingly large for its meek appearance from the street. Three staggered levels faced the stage, all packed to the brim with faces that the performers would never even see. Standing room only was filled to capacity, probably more, and it was surely a fire hazard, but it must be quite the experience to have all of those voices come together and sing back your lyrics. For the inebriated performers, like most of those that were performing here, it seemed quite sobering.
Still in a daze I almost didn't feel him standing beside me until his lips found their way to cheek with a quick peck. I took my time facing him and when I did his attention was directly on me despite the chaos ensuing with his band mates.
"What?", I asked as I pushed past him to hug the other three.
His eyes left mine and looked to the increasingly restless crowd before turning back to me.
"Nothing," he said as a mischievous grin formed," just waiting for you to wish me luck."
"Good luck idiot, try not to rip your jeans again," I said as I pulled him in for a hug. "Really though, I'm wearing shorts so I can't take my skinnies off and give them to you."
"I don't even fit into your jeans, Christ!", he whined.
I looked off his shoulder and saw the other three already setting up. My eyes widened and waved my hand in front of his face before pointing to the stage behind him.
"What?," he asked shrugging.
"Oh my god, go you idiot. You're on!"
A blush crept onto his face and prior to him running for the stage he leaned in kissing my cheek, much too close to my lips, leaving me increasingly confused and alone.
Halfway through the set I was still attentive though it wasn't uncharacteristic of me. Despite having heard these songs enough times to where I could sing them in my sleep, I never got tired of them. His voice was velvety as it reverberated through the wires and speakers before blasting out into the air. The band as a whole pulled everyone into a trance, a raging unharmonized one yes, but a unified unexplainable trance all because of a group of boys playing pieces of metal and wood.
Without much notice I was ripped from my daze and stumbling forward with a firm grip around my wrist. The hand left my own and I steadied my uneasy feet to find myself in front of the crowd. Silence ensued and my eyes widened drastically before he said into the microphone, "can we get some cheers going for my lovely friend? Did I mention she's single?". Howls and whistles erupted accompanied by claps and my cheeks went up in flames at the sheer embarrassment of his comment.
My legs felt like jelly while my feet were cemented to the dented ground beneath me. It suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world. I wasn't really one for being the center of attention so the weight of the eyes on me was almost a bit too much to bear. The drum started getting beat on again and I sighed in relief as the bass hummed through the thick air. My gaze lifted to the band and reassuring smiles met my own but the most dazzling smile came from the guitar player closing the distance between us.
His fingers weaved in between mine comforting me instantly. The soothing baritone of his voice told me everything would be okay and to not be afraid. As always I believed him. Without much coaxing he led me to the center of the stage where a stool had appeared. His hands gently pushed my shoulders down until I was seated on the incredibly wobbly surface.
Feedback echoed when he went to speak in the microphone and I laughed at his grimace. Looking back at me as he did so, he said into the microphone, "We're going to play a real nice song now that was written especially for this pain in the ass." My mouth dropped in mock abject offense before I raised my hand letting only one finger stand. His laugh was one I have heard a million times but in particular this laugh made my smile widen drastically.
"Anyways," he continued, "she's always asked us what it's like being on stage so I thought it'd be nice to have her up here for her song."
With that he began strumming his guitar strings slowly as if testing the waters. The songs lyrics and tempo was unknown to me so I wasn't
quite prepared for when he began strumming harder and faster. The drums came in louder than before startling me before his voice leaked lyrics that had once been safe in his own head.
For a while I just sat at stared at him with all the admiration I could muster without feeling like I was crossing a line. I felt relaxed in front of the abundance of bodies and cameras so long as he kept being him. His love and passion for the art was easing me into a state I only found myself in when truly at peace. It wasn't until I heard a particularly loud eruption of screams that I began letting my other senses take over. The crowd was jumping up and down in synchronization and some had picked up the words to the chorus. Only then did I hear him singing about how I looked the morning after I spent the night at his place. It was a personal experience despite us being just friends and it happening nearly every night but the way he presented it to the strangers in front of us allowed me no room to be angry. Again a blush rushed to my cheeks and I rolled my eyes at him, a secondary action that I save especially for the times I find him either too stupid or too charming to handle.
All too soon I found the music dying down as the wildness of the crowd grew in decibels. Something seemed to be on his mind as he finished and I could see it brewing and nagging at him when he faced me. I quirked my brow at his odd behavior but was silenced by a slight smile on his lips that grew to a smirk. He always did that, hiding his feelings with a s*** eating grin in hopes of it shielding his most inner thoughts, but I knew better. Instead of bringing it up like I very well could have, I allowed him his time to enjoy the moment.
The bands exit was slow moving and half hearted but I left abruptly after an encore was begged for. Per usual I left the venue without much notice from anyone. My feet pounded against the pavement, maneuvering swiftly to miss potholes and chunks of gum. Wind grabbed the wisps of my hair that fell from my bun in its grasp and tousled it around as I wrapped my oversized flannel tighter around myself. Street lamps left shady gleams of light to illuminate my walk home. I should probably be scared seeing as the streets were rather desolate save for the random drunkard or beat up car that drove past. Instead I found peace in the pitter patter of my steps and the solace I found in the silence.
Getting into my building, which was much further from where I had started than I thought, took some effort as the key jammed like it did every day. Once on my floor I heard rhythmic thumping and had to push past gaggles of drunken people stumbling out of my neighbors door. I could see her through the doorway dancing on her table like she did most every Saturday night. Bless the girls soul but she couldn't dance drunk to save her bony self. Making a snap second decision I enter her apartment and walk up to her swaying figure.
"Hey Lis, party planning business going well?", I asked her once I got her attention.
"Oh yeah totally!", she yelled as she grabbed onto my shoulder to step off the table and down onto level ground. "I'm just trying out some different music playlists and drinks out here first you know?"
I nodded my head knowing that her business of planning house parties was being funded by her fathers money and not any level of success. Money he assumed was going to becoming an educated functional member of society, but what the rich man doesn't know won't hurt him. My eyes drifted to observe the other party goers and despite my unexplained decline in mood since the concert I found myself enjoying the way people danced around carefree and with no expectations of how the night would go. I was the exact same way, at least I had been before I left the stage earlier. The entire walk home I was wading through muddled thoughts and emotions that normally never came about. Lis disappeared for a moment leaving me to my thoughts but came back with a full bottle of vodka.
"You seem like you need a drink, or like twenty. I'm not sure how many servings are in this thing but I'm sure it'll get you drunk fast enough to forget about that asshat you hang around with," she said loudly into my ear.
"That asshat is your cousin," I replied back laughing at her insult.
"Yeah and he's your best friend blah blah, well I'm one of your best friends too so I'm advising you to get drunk or don't," she said waving her hands up," I won't pressure you." But her grin said it all. Lis, despite being clueless half the time, tended to understand me better than I did. Somehow she also knew I was a bit off set by her cousin, by him. I didn't drink regularly, it wasn't something I wanted to make a habit of, and the last time I did I passed out but I continued opening the safety cap of the bottle anyway. And despite my best efforts to go about solving my inexplicable feelings the productive way I decided to swallow a great deal of the icy beverage.
After two large sips I felt like my head was filled with cotton balls and I knew I had had enough. Lis was already being reigned in by her boyfriend so I found no need to stick around. My body was sluggish and I felt tired as I unlocked my door and walked in. Flipping on the light I made a beeline to my bedroom, passing stacks of binders for school and clothing swatches for work along the way. Once inside the safety of my bedroom I unbuttoned my shorts and threw them across the room not even bothering to pick up the picture they knocked over. My t-shirt and bra came off next but I slipped the flannel, his flannel, back on, buttoning it up with my shaking fingers slowly one by one.
Overcome with exhaustion I fell into the comfort of my bed allowing the swath of blankets to envelope me in a warmth not many people needed on a summer night. Silence was once again my only companion and even though I could still hear the faint hum of the techno music from Lis' apartment, it was all still mostly quiet. So quiet in fact that I could hear the turning of a key in my front door. It didn't startle me, in fact it annoyed me, but I didn't make a move or utter a word. Instead I snuggled farther into my blankets and grew sleepier with each passing moment. His footsteps echoed on the wooden floor as he made thirty three distinct steps allowing me to know, without opening my eyes, that he was most likely standing in my doorway watching me.
I peeked open my left eye to get a good look at him. It was late, very late, and I expected him to look trashed like he did after most performances but he looked relatively alright. Except I could see his swollen lips and grotesquely styled hair meaning he either got laid or was simply making out with some girl. The idea of either caused me to grind my teeth and roll my eyes beneath their lids. Now more so than ever I realized he always did this. He always came back to me after he got what he wanted from other people. Usually I just let him under the covers but tonight I felt especially betrayed. I could hear his pants button coming undone and he lowered them from his leg. He had a great deal of difficulty doing so because he wore jeans two sizes too tight and I heard him curse loudly and then curse again when he realized he might've woken me. I almost wanted to smile but my disgust with him and my emotions alike wouldn't allow me.
Before he could slide in next to me I wound the blankets up in my hand leaving no cover for him. He sighed heavily and tried grabbed them away from me which didn't even falter my iron grip on them.
"Seriously? I just want to go to sleep," his voice rasped.
With a quick swipe he managed to grab enough of the covers to slide under and I felt him shimmy closer to me. His body heat warmed me instantly and I wasn't surprised when his arm snaked it's way around my rigid body to rest on my waist. A hand delicately moved my hair away from my neck and his face snuggled into the crook of it where I felt his light breathing hit my skin lightly.
Unlike him however, my breathing was picking up. Both my anger and nervousness at his actions caused my once calm heartbeat to race erratically. Surely, if he wasn't clueless, he would feel how this was affecting me differently than it usually did, but he was clueless. He didn't know.
"Get off of me," I mumbled into my pillow hoping he heard.
"What was that?" he replied.
"Get off of me. Now." I said with an icy tone, one that I never used with him. I grabbed him arm and shoved it off of my waist and scooted to the farthest edge of my bed. I glared back at him and the surprise on his face was clear but the hurt was buried deeper behind his eyes.
"Woah sorry? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" he asked with his verbal pace speeding up with each question.
I could've blamed it on a jerk hitting on me, I could have said it was the alcohol I drank earlier, he probably would have even bought a lie about still being into my ex but by lying to him I would be lying to myself and I wasn't in the business of doing so.
"You can't just come in here and cuddle me and go to bed with me and wake up with me," I said emphasizing each "me" in hopes of my feelings becoming more apparent to him, "after you've just done god knows what with some other girl. I mean look at you! Your hair looks like s*** and your lips look like you've got some allergic reaction!"
"All I'm saying is that I don't want to be the girl you do all the domestic stuff with alright? I guess I'm just done with you treating me like your girlfriend and one of your bros. Pick one and be done."
His eyes were wide when I gained the courage to look back at him. It's like he became sober instantly at the mere idea of me caring for him at a deeper level than just friends. But the problem is, is that we've never been "just friends". He and I were so enamored by one another that no extracurricular relationship ever seemed to pan out. At least that's the reasoning as to why I couldn't fall for anyone. He might very well be a different story.
He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and bit down hard on his lip and I knew it was a mistake. He only did those things when he was upset. So I threw back the covers and fumbled for a pair of jeans to slip on. As I walked through the living room I simultaneously slipped on flip flops and grabbed a jacket before slamming the door shut behind me. I didn't have anywhere else to go though. It was nearly four in the morning, Lis was probably passed out, and I knew it was unsafe to be walking around at this time. My body slid down the wall opposite my door and I felt drained. All I wanted was to go to bed but he was in there still, probably contemplating how he was going to explain his rejection of me. And truthfully I wouldn't be hurt if he just wanted to be friends, I just want him to choose because too many times have I let go of great guys for him.
My heart nearly stopped in my chest when my front door crashed open and he came running out in a hurry. He moved with purpose and I knew he was meaning to go after me. When he stopped to shut the door behind him he caught my eye and sighed with relief.
I stood up and as I was brushing the dirt from my pants his hands cupped my face.
"If you ever, and I mean ever, leave me like that again.." he said trailing off.
His eyes, green and shining, scanned my entire face as if he was taking all of me in. It was like nothing he had ever done before.
"I thought, um, I thought you were going to get yourself hurt out there by yourself. And if it did happen it would've been my fault because I was the idiot that let you walk away. Or rather speed walk away," he said flashing a light smile.
"Your hands are still on my face," I said as I felt my temperature rise from our close proximity.
"I know," he murmured once his face was but mere inches from my own.
The air felt thicker, fuller if air could get larger in size, it was dense and it felt hard to breathe. His chest pressed against my own and when his lips bloomed into a smirk I knew he had felt my lack of bra. I went to swat his chest when his hand grasped my own and wrapped it around the back of his neck.
His smirk fell quickly and was replaced with concern once again, "please don't ever walk away like that, because when you did, as corny as it may sound coming from me, it was the worst image I've ever had to witness."
I was at a loss for words, he was apologizing in a way he never had. He sounded genuinely pained at the reiteration of what occurred minutes ago.
"I'm sorry for treating you like some second rate girlfriend. I'm sorry that you aren't my girlfriend because you should be. Uh..", he stopped suddenly and his eyes grew wide but I didn't mind the slip up, I knew he wasn't lying. He always chews the inside of his cheek when he is but instead his mouth was agape.
"Don't worry, I won't tell your other skank friends that you like me better," I grinned.
"Of course I like you better. You're a kinder person, a better cook, I would say a better kisser but I would be lying because we haven't you know, kissed."
"That was the smoothest thing you've ever said," I replied.
"Well, are you going to make me a liar, I know how much you hate those," he said as he allowed me to pull his head closer to mine.
"I do hate liars," I whispered as I looked into his eyes.
I nodded my head and he finished leaning into me. He connected our lips gently at first, his were softer on my lips than they were on any other part of my skin and it took only a moment for either of us to lose the little control we had. His rough fingertips lifted my shirt slightly so that they were resting on the skin of my hips before pulling me closer. Our bodies knocked together lightly and I wound my arms around his neck pulling him as close to me as possible. I felt a heat spread through my body all the way to my fingertips and it was like nothing I had ever experienced, he was a far better kisser than I had assumed.
I unlatched one of my arms from around his neck and gave him a swift slap on the head when his hands began roaming below my waist.
I laughed into a kiss and said into his lips, "I heard you like it rough."
He laughed loudly, and his arms pulled me in tightly just like he did any other time on any other day as he uttered, "You're very lucky that you're my closest friend or else I'd have half a mind to take what you said as a sexual advance."
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