Hello, this is my story. A story about three guys.
Over these past few months I have learn that their names are Sam, Dean, and Cas- short for Castiel.
Sam is the tall one, who is the brother of Dean, the one with the leather jacket and necklace.
Castiel- Cas as they like to call him, is always wearing a brown trench coat, sometimes it would have a few drops of blood here and there.
Their new in town I guess, I never really ever seen them outside of this crappy little bar. They have been here for about two months so far.
I swear sometimes times I see them out at night chasing after shadows with knives in their hands. But every time I run after them, they disappear.
Sometimes I'll catch Cas looking a Dean with love and pain in his eyes, but every time Dean looks his way he turns his head. Sometimes it's Dean.
One of the waiters knows them it seems like they just meet, not too long ago. Cause she doesn't she they way they look at each other. She's try countless time to hit on Dean, But he smiles and says in the nicest way the she's not his type. Over the last week she's changed. She now looks at the two boys, then to Sam with a knowing look.
I'm not the only one who notice other people seem to slowly start to catch on. Sometimes I swear I see Sam roll his eyes at the pair, but doesn't say anything.
Now I wish I had said something, ask them if they were together even though I knew the answer. As I look around I'm not the only one.
Cause in the far back two sad lonely brother sit down at a table with bottles of beer all around them. Sam is looking worriedly at his brother, whom has a faraway look in his faded green eyes. Staring at an old rusty piano all the way across the bar after about ten minutes off staring, he gets up and makes his way. The floor of the small platform creaks when he gets up. He takes a deep breath of the smokey air and sits down on a sticky bench.
No one seems to notice the man with a dead look and a hollow heart, he starts playing a few keys, but no one looks his way, there not ones for music; it's not that kind of place.
They talk over him at first, even though some of them know the opening chords to the song, but they kept their eyes put on whatever they're doing.
Would you know my name/ if I saw you in Heaven?/
Would it be the same/ if I saw you in Heavan/
Dean's voice isn't steady and his brother starts to get up, but Dean kept on going
I must be strong/ And carry on,/ 'Cause I know I don't belong/ Here in Heaven/
Slowly the conversations die around the bar, he doesn't seem to notice, his eyes glues to the keys on the piano.
When he'd finished, he got up and left with tears in his eyes and a worried looking brother on his tracks.
The bar is quite for a few minutes. Everyone not knowing what to say, as they sat there with their heads down the only noise is the waitress picking up glasses with tear rolling down her cheeks.
I slowly walk up to her, all eyes on me. I stop right in front of her as she looks up, I tear falling off her nose.
I swallow, and asked her, if she knew anything.
She looks me in the eye, then at everyone around the bar and turns around to leave. Not before throwing a, "Not my story to tell." Over her shoulder