I met Dmitri Petrov in Washington DC, in a dive bar hosting We Don't Mention the Z-Word, a tremendously terrible indi-punk band I had decided to follow around the country because I vaguely new the lead singer and life was getting me down.

In the crowd, I'd been standing right next to Dmitri, and a very drunk, very merry young man was falling all over the place very close by to us. Hey, it's a given at a gig. So the drunk was singing along and acting like every stranger he met was his best buddy. Singing along myself, and full of adrenaline and base-happiness, I put my arm around the guy when he did the same to me, and we sang along together. Someone else joined and we had a huddle. The chorus kicked in and we masterfully parted from each other, turning to the others in the crowd. I turned to Dimitri. He sang along with me heartily and we shared a beautiful music-lover's moment. Then the pits opened up and I pushed my way into the thick of it.

I caught his eye again at the bar. Pushing and swaying and shoving was worse there than in the pit. I just needed water. He signalled with a pointing finger at a drink on the bar, offering to buy me a drink. I shook my head and made a 'W' with my thumbs and forefingers. He made a confused face and signalled for me to stay where I was. He had seemed nice when I first interacted with him, and he had these eyes that were hard to look away from (have you ever noticed how seldom people actually meet eyes?) and his jaw was strong, and his lips were full and well, to be honest I was in a state of chaos in my life and I had no rules or presumptions or qualms against this particular guy having what he wanted, if he wanted. He appeared and in a thick but clear accent he asked,

"You want whiskey?"

"What? No! Water!" It was hard to hear over the racket from the band. He got the attention of the bar just then and he asked for two waters. He passed mine to me and I sipped quickly to ask,

"Do you actually like this band?"

He shook his head, "They repeated that chorus four times before you appeared." I smiled my understanding, "I just had to get out for a while."

He met my eyes meaningfully and I certainly understood that feeling. I held up my cup to toast and he smiled amusedly as he followed my lead.

"Here's to getting out for a while." I shouted and chugged as much as I could before pouring the rest onto my head. I didn't care if I splashed onto people; it was sweltering hot! Dmitri seemed shocked and I blinked the water from my eyes before inviting him to follow my lead,

"Your turn."

His eyebrows gave away his disbelief and indecision but he lifted his chin and poured smiling at the ceiling. I wasn't going to take his hand in favour of disappearing, but I felt like we had something in common. I may have been projecting my bullshit onto him, but I got the feeling we were both sort of lost in life, with no definitive answer to who we were or what we were going to do. So I took his hand and pulled him back into the crowd, straight into the pits. When the pit died for a slow number, I leaned into him and his arm wound protectively, or maybe just politely, around me. It was nice. It was intimate.

I lost him in the crowd again, and my heart sank a little. It always does when I think I've made a connection with someone and then I can't find out what might have happened. It's probably for the best, I tell myself, but then I can't stop thinking about a chance meeting with that person again.

Would you believe I didn't get a chance to fantasise?

In the cloakroom queue, we were one group of people away from each other, and they decided abruptly to depart from their positions and hop further up. I stepped towards him as he leaned on the wall, fidgeting with his raffle ticket.

"Hi." I smiled up at him, for he was taller than me, as I rested on the wall next to him.

"Dmitri." He informed me, holding his hand out for me to shake. It was cute. I took his hand and answered,

"Cosima."

"Where is that from?"

"My family is Italian."

"Russian." He said, with his hand to his chest to indicate himself.

"I'd never have guessed."

"Do you live in Washington?"

I shook my head, "I'm just passing through."

The queue lurched forward so we followed.

"Can I walk you to your hotel?"

"I was thinking about going for a drink. The band's taking a break from the tour for a couple of weeks so they have a back room booked at this nightclub, and I'm pretty much here with them so –"

"You know the band?"

"Yeah, well, I sort of know the singer and she said I should follow them. You know, to help me get away."

"From what?"

"Life."

"Was life so terrible?"

"It's getting better." I grinned suggestively. He got the message and the queue moved. "Want to join us?"

"I don't know anybody." He smiled at me.

"You can get to know me." I promised and I went for it. It sounds like I lunged at him when I say it like that but, in my head I made a leap of faith, and I set my hands on his hips to help me balance on my tiptoes. His arms slid through mine to my hips, and he leaned in. We just pressed lips for a second, before, like we both thought of it at the same time, our heads tilted (the right way each) and they parted and we didn't stop until I felt the queue moving away from us. I pulled us into position, thumb hooked into the side of his jeans like it was the most natural thing in the world, and his arm resting at my back, thumb moving now and then to let me know he kept it there on purpose.