Glancing up at the clock, I watched the seconds tick by.

How much longer could it take for the clock to strike that magnificent number 4. The time I got off of work.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my job. I had always wanted to manage a theatre house.

But every Friday, at four pm, it meant I could sneak away to 1918. A club that inhabited romance, passion, and him.

The piano player that played every Friday night. His bronze hair twinkled under the bright lights shining on the stage, perfectly reflecting the bright green eyes that followed the people in the room.

He was something to look at, and I wasn't the only one who thought so.

It was like there was a line of women wrapped around the club, waiting to view the eye-catching pianst.

So how did I make my way in every night?

My older brother Emmet thankfully took up a job bouncing. And in return for him granting me access, I let him freely tease me about my pathetic crush without a punch in the place where the sun don't shine.

So as the clock painfully, but finally reached the number four, I jumped out of my office, practically running to my car.

"Shit…" I muttered turning the key forcefully. My old truck refused to start. "This is NOT the time to break down…" I scolded the vehicle.

I jumped at the sound of my phone. "What?" I snapped, answering while still trying to get my car to start. "Hey Bells…bad news, I can't get you in tonight."

"WHAT?" I screamed into the phone, ready to give up and simply run home. "Geesh, relax sister. I don't think you even WANT to be here tonight. Piano boy isn't playing anyway." he explained slowly, as if it would calm my rage.

"Why not?" I spat into the phone, frustrated. "Don't ask me, I just let the ladies in to oggle the boy, not to catch up on his personal life." he said, sounding slightly upset women gave more attention to "piano-boy" more than they did to him. "Fine Em. I'll just go over to the book store and pick up a book."

"Sounds good Bella. I think you need a break from that club anyway…"

"Shut up Em."

"Love you too Bells."

Emmett hung up, leaving me in a state of "feeling-stupid-because-you-stressed-out-over-nothing." I gave the engine one last start, and to my relief, the old pile of rust started.

"Sorry for yelling at you." I said, patting the wheel. The engine roared slightly as I pulled out of the parking ramp, driving down the snowy streets of Seattle. Hating winter, I scowled at the fact it was snowing heavily. I scowled at the fact I wouldn't see Mr. Perfect tonight. I scowled at the fact I had never met Mr. Perfect and I probably never would.

So as I pulled into the bookstore parking lot, I felt defeated. Okay world, you win this time.

Slowly, I dragged myself into the bookstore, heading straight for the classics section. Maybe a little Austen would cheer me up. Especially since I lost my last copy of Pride and Prejudice.

The sight of an Austen book cheered my spirits a little, and I picked up the fresh copy. Flipping through the pages, I reveled in the clarity of the pages. Completely untouched, and never read.

Smiling, I cracked the book open, skipping to my favorite parts. I became completely engrossed in the book, and I lost track of time.

After an hour of sitting on the floor, remaining unnoticed, I finally looked up.

And then I realized I wasn't alone.

And that the person was sitting directly across the aisle from me.

And was covering their face with a book, their hair peaking out from the top.

I recognized the color, and I audibly gasped.

He put his copy of Dumas down, and looked at me. "Sorry…did I scare you?"

My through instantly became dry, my hands instantly clammy. I swear my face looked like a tomato.

"N..n..no?" I choked. He smiled, capturing me instantly. "Wh…what are you doing here?" I asked, probably the dumbest thing I'd ever asked someone.

"Reading?" he said, gesturing to the new copy of The Three Musketeers. "Oh." I nodded.

"Why aren't you at the club?" he asked. My face deepened in color, I could feel it growing ten times more red. "I could ask you the same question." I responded with more attitude than intended.

He laughed a little, more so a soft chuckle. "Fair enough." He smiled wider. "But I asked you first." he reminded me softly. I felt like my head was about to explode. I couldn't tell him the actual reason. "Because my brother told me you wouldn't be there so I couldn't stare at you all night."

I choked, and then felt myself laughing. Laughing? Why was I laughing?

"What's so funny?" he asked, sounding confused. "N…nothing. I just..can't tell you without sounding like a stalker."

"Now I'm genuinely interested." he smiled wider, leaning forward slightly. "Probably the same reason every female showed up at that club and ran home crying because you weren't there to be oggled." I laughed again. Where was this…comfort coming from?

Piano-boy smiled again. "You don't look too disappointed." he remarked. "Well, I get to oggle you here. So why would I be disappointed?" I said, confidence in my voice. Where was this coming from?

Random fic I just started writing, if I get reviews or something, I might write more…so yeah. I was very bored.