The night before:
"5...4...3...2...1. HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The group shouted at each other. And it was then, in his drunken stupor, that Roger got the feeling the year was about to pick up.
~*~
The next day:
Roger awoke around 12 o'clock in the afternoon with a splitting headache. Stumbling around, he realized he had somehow gotten to his bed last night, or early morning, he didn't really know. Just that around 12 A.M. things were no longer clear, in fact, one might say that around that time his life didn't seem to exist. With that he opened his bedroom door and headed to the bathroom to wash his face.
"Morning Princess!" Mark called from the living room.
"Piss off Mark." Roger grumbled, as Mark laughed at his response. He walked out of the bathroom and plopped down on the couch. "What time did I pass out?"
"Um, around 1:30 I think, by the way, you dance great, maybe you need to go work at the Cat Scratch Club." Roger groaned.
"No, I think I'll stick with the band, at least for now."
"Whatever tweaks your interest," Mark said with a shrug as he pulled himself off of the couch. I'm heading out to go film random people, maybe they won't trash my camera this time."
"Doubt it, but good luck."
"Yuh, thanks." Mark said as he grabbed his camera and walked out the door. Having nothing else to do, Roger grabbed his fender from its case in his bedroom and crawled out onto the fire escaped and sat down. He was about to begin to play, when below him he heard another guitar playing, and a strong voice singing.
Don't waste my time
Pretending to be something you aren't
You don't see how it affects me
And I doubt you'd care if you did.
Roger looked down to see Miss talk-a-lot sitting on a swinging bench and another man beside her playing a guitar.
"Argh, do we really have to perform this tonight?" The girl asked to the man.
"Unfortunately we do. James hasn't come up with anymore lyrics, and this one of the songs we all know and have played...constantly."
"Yeah, yeah, okay let's go over it again, and that's all I'm doing. Damn, hang-overs are defiantly a pain in the..."
"Okay how about we lower the cursing to a minimal zero."
"Yes ma'am...I mean sir!" She started laughing when the man began to beat her with a seat cushion. "Aunt...I mean Uncle! I give, sorry, OW! Would you kindly cease that immature behavior." Roger quietly laughed at her pseudo snobbish tone, he unfortunately knew a few people who spoke like that.
"Yes ma'am, okay one more time." And they played the song once more. Roger noted that they had talent, if he knew where they were playing he might just have to hear the rest of their music. He needed to hear something beside his own band's what he had come to call "bull shit."
"All right Aaron, I'm going to hit the shower then go to work. The gig starts at 7 at CBGB's right?"
"Correct. Have fun. Call if you need anything."
"Har-har." She then crawled back through the window. The man began to strum a few chords, he was actually very talented.
Roger decided to speak up. "That was good."
"Huh?"
"Up here."
"Oh, hey. Thanks. My roommate and I wrote it together after we moved up here."
"Do you have a band?" Roger asked.
"Yeah, Pessimistic Dreams."
"Interesting, care to explain the name?"
"Not especially." Roger didn't really understand the rudeness that was beginning to grow under this man's tone.
"What's your name?" The man asked.
"Roger, and yours?"
"Aaron."
"Well Aaron, your band has a good sound."
"Thanks." He noted that Roger had turned to his guitar. "We're playing at CBGB's around 7 tonight. You can come if you like, hear the rest of our stuff I mean."
"Well my band is performing there around 10:30, but sure I'll come."
"What's the name of your band?"
"The Well Hungarians."
"Oh, you're that Roger."
"What?"
"Nothing, just the manager talks about you and your band a lot. Says you have talent. Wonders why you're still playing at his bar."
"Haven't really gotten a chance to anything besides bar performances."
"That royally sucks. My roommate, she has these big dreams for our band and her acting. That's why we came to New York, I personally don't like it all that much, but she loves it here for some reason. Even loves the shit hole of an apartment we live in. She's real optimistic, and I'd hate to see her dreams crushed, but I have this strong feeling that is what is going to happen."
"Most likely."
"Aaron, would you go into the laundry area and grab me a couple of CLEAN towels?" Aaron's roommate called from within the apartment.
"Yeah, hold on." He called back to her. "I'll be right back," He stated to Roger. Roger nodded to him as he crawled through the window, and he began to strum a few chords.
"Dude, I said clean towels!"
"Those are clean."
"Um, then what's with the yellow stain?"
"Where?"
"Right there."
"Oh, hold on, I'll get two more."
"Thank you."
A few minutes later, Aaron crawled back through the window. "I don't understand how guys date them." Aaron said to Roger.
"Date whom?"
"Women, they're so picky."
"Wait, are you gay?"
"Yup."
"Didn't know that."
"Do you mind?"
"Nah, one of my best friends is gay, Collins, yeah you'll probably see him around later."
"Really?" Aaron sounded interested.
"Yeah, he'll be at our gig tonight, hang around and I'll introduce you two."
"Thanks."
"Aaron..." The roommate within called.
"Gotta go, babysitting calls." Aaron crawled back through the window as Roger laughed at him.
~*~
A few hours later, Mark was walking back to the loft when he ran into a young red-headed women with fair skin and blue eyes. Her bag split open with the collision.
"Oh geez, sorry I'm such a klutz." Mark said to her as he bent down and began helping her gather her things. She just laughed.
"It's all right, not as if I was paying that much attention to where I was going either." She looked up at him, and with a warm smile she said, "Hi."
"Hi, I'm Mark."
"Hi Mark." She stuck out her hand, and he shook it. She just stared at him for a few moments, then began to put things back into her bag.
"Sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"That's 'cause you didn't ask."
"Sorry," he slapped his forehead, "what's your name?"
She laughed again, he was beginning to like the sound. "Fi."
"Phi? As in Pheobe?"
"Oh god no. Fi as in Fiona."
"Oh, that's a pretty name."
"Thanks, I think so too."
"So, you're an artist?" He said noting the sketch pad and pencils that she was putting back in her bag.
"Yeah, in more ways than one."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I like to draw, write music, take pictures, and I sing in a band."
"Wonder Woman." He whispered.
"What?" She asked him with a quizzical look on her face.
"Nothing, just said 'Wonder Woman'."
"Wow, I usually tend not to believe in stereotypes, but some of you New Yorkers are really rude." Fi said as she stuffed the rest of her things in her bag and stood up. "Good day now," and she turned and walked away.
Mark silently scolded himself, then realized he hadn't really said anything. Instead of stopping her to apologize he let her go. "Why are people so dramatic all the time?" He asked himself as he climbed the steps to the loft. "Lucy, I'm home!"
"Out here." Roger stated from the fire escape.
"Hey bud, what's up?"
"Not much, just trying to find myself a muse."
"Can't find anything to write about?"
"Nothing the band will agree to. Apparently my music is too...what's the word? Depressing."
"Really? Can't imagine why." Mark stated sarcastically, he had heard Roger's lyrics lately and his band was right, they were depressing.
"Well, if you have a better idea for lyrics why don't you write them?" Roger said angrly to Mark.
"Hey, don't shoot me, I just agree with what your band is saying about your music. Lighten it up a little bit. We all know you're upset, and you have a reason to be, but not everyone wants to live in your world."
"Whatever Mark, go back to your camera."
"Not this again. Why is it that you always have to stab me with your words when I try to point something out. Constructive critiscm Roger, get used to it." Mark turned away and went to his room where his film editing equipment was.
Roger simply brushed his hair out of his eyes and began to think of "happy" lyrics.
Looking into your eyes
I see who I really am
Who I'm supposed to be
And how I'm supposed to survive
"That sucks. Screw it." After his attempt had failed, he decided to just sit and stare at the prostitutes and junkies, the tourists and dreamers. All of them would end the same way, dead. So why did people continue to try so hard. He laughed at them. He knew something they didn't. "It doesn't matter how hard you try, everyone fails." He whispered to the wind.
~*~
Roger and his friends entered the club were Aaron, Fi, and the rest of the band were about to start playing and grabbed a table towards the front. Roger pointed out Aaron to Collins, and Collins turned back to him with a look of approval, but a shadow of anger in his eyes.
"He's cute Rog, but stop. I don't want to date anyone, I don't care how attractive they are, so let me be, please!" Collins said in an angry voice.
"Sorry Collins, I just told him about you, and he wanted to meet you."
"It's alright, but when it's time, I'll know, and I won't need you or anyone to 'hook me up' with anyone."
"Crap," Mark whispered from the other end of the table. Roger turned towards him.
"That's the girl I pissed off earlier," Mark said pointing up to Fi onstage.
"I wouldn't worry about it, she talks a lot." Roger said dismissively.
"Yeah, but still, I ran into her, and she didn't mind that, but I opened my mouth and pissed her off. I'm destined to live alone."
"Mark..."
"Yeah?"
"Cut the drama."
"Thanks, Roger, like you're one to talk."
"Would you two kindly shut up, they're about to start, and considering we're sitting up front, I doubt it would be respectful if you two sat there arguing like two school girls while they're playing." Maureen stated with a temper.
"Yes ma'am." Roger and Mark stated in unison.
It was then that Fi walked up to the microphone. "Hello ladies and gents. This is our first time performing in New York, so I hope you like it. We're the Pessimistic Dreams, enjoy." And then they began their set, with Fi being the lead vocalist.
Your eyes threaten me,
Your voice tortures me,
There is something inside I can't break.
Leave it up to you to misbehave
You don't even know what it is
To be me in this world that's so damn un-accepting.
Roger's table had gotten quiet as they listened, and Roger realized once again at how talented they were, but even more so at how great her voice sounded. She even played the guitar wonderfully.
Let it go,
Just let it go,
You can't let your fears lead you all day.
Remember who you were,
Who you are,
You have so much to give,
Let it go,
Oh, let it go.
For the next two and a half hours Roger, Mark, Collins, Maureen, and Joanne listened to the band with interest, and at the end of their set, they realized the audience liked their band too. Rarely did the audience ever give this amount of approval to new bands, or really any bands besides Roger's band. Fi once again walked up to the mike.
"Thanks for listening to our shit, the real music doesn't start until later tonight. Have a wonderful night folks."
Roger then stood up and looked around for his band, they had to go up in thirty minutes so they needed to set up. "Bye guys, see you when we're done." Roger then walked over to the table in the corner where his band was sitting. "Hey guys." They just grunted in response. "Uh, right, well we need to set up, so uh, move." Roger then walked up to the now blacked out stage where Fi, Aaron, and the rest of the band were dismantling their things. He turned to Aaron, "You guys sounded great."
"Huh," Aaron looked up to see who was speaking to him, when he saw that it was Roger he said, "Oh, yeah, thanks, we were worried that it wouldn't sound too grand. With Fi's voice sounding like a dying cow and all."
"Gee, thanks Aaron, I love you too." Fi said with a smile at Aaron.
"You aren't offended by that?" Roger asked Fi as she turned back to her guitar case.
"Nah, he knows he's the only one that can say that though, the rest of the guys would get their butts kicked if they said that."
"What, that your voice sounded bad?"
"No...if they said my voice sounded like a dying cow. I'm guessing you don't like the sound of my voice then?" Fi told Roger.
"Oh no, I didn't mean that, it actually sounded good."
"Why, you sound surprised." She said now standing completely up. She realized their height difference should intimidate her, since he was defiantly over six feet and she barely reached a mere 5'5, but she was tired of guys like him. Guys who thought their advice meant everything. She had just broken off an engagement with a guy just like him, and she was no longer willing to take crap from guys sitting down. Roger obviously must have noticed the anger beginning to grow in her eyes.
"I apologize; I just meant to come up here to give you guys a compliment, didn't mean to cause offense." He turned to walk off stage.
"Wait," he turned back to face her, "sorry, I just get kind of touchy when it comes to my music."
"It's alright. Hey, I just realized I don't even know your name. What is it?"
"I'm Fi," she said as she stuck out her hand. He reached out and grasped it.
"Nice to meet you Fi, need some help to unpack?"
"No it's fine, I think we're done. Come on Aaron, let's get out of this big boy's way."
"Hey! Are you calling me fat?" He asked playfully pushing her shoulder.
"Nope, just making fun of your height."
"Yeah, well two can play at that game."
"Sure, but not right now, your band needs to set up, and we need to get out of your way, bye," and Fi turned and walked off stage. Roger just shook his head and set his guitar down at the front microphone.
"Hot isn't she?"
"What?"
"I said she's hot," Roger turned to look at who was telling him this, it was the bass player, Greg.
"Oh, I guess so, didn't really notice." Roger said with a shrug. He turned to look for her in the darkened audience and saw her at the bar talking to the drum player. She had her hand on his shoulder and was laughing. She then flipped her hair over her shoulder. Roger realized Greg was right, she was hot, attractive, whatever women liked being called these days.
From 10:30 till 1 am the Well Hungarians played, and as usual they were received by a generous audience that clapped and screamed for them. The band knew that part of it was in due to Roger's attractiveness, it was obvious from the way ten girls stood around the stage in extra-small, extra- tight clothing cheering from the band. Roger often found it annoying, but the guys of the band enjoyed it. Out of a band of five, only two of the band members no longer did drugs. Roger being one of those two found it hard to hang around them since he used to be a junkie himself. Greg was the other one who remained free of drugs, Hunter, Gabe, and Nick however were a different story. Those three rarely went anywhere without being on something. Roger found it aggravating since it spurred his roommates to question whether he was clean or not. At the end of their set, and after they had taken down everything, Roger walked off the stage to be greeted by Aaron and Fi.
"Good job," Fi told Roger with a pat on his arm. She felt the tautness of his muscles under his t-shirt and quickly removed her hand. Roger found himself missing her hand on his arm.
"Yeah, good job," Aaron stated noticing the awkwardness of the situation, "so, uh, where's this Collins guy you were talking about?" Aaron asked while craning his neck to look around.
"Oh, huh, hold on." Roger walked away in search of Collins, he found him at the entrance. "Hey, Collins, buddy, come here for a few moments." Collins walked over to him.
"What do you need man?"
"I want to introduce you to Aaron."
"Roger, I thought we already discussed this," Collins said as he began to turn away, Roger grabbed his arm.
"We did, but please he really wants to meet you, he is new to the city, just show him around or something, please?" Collins saw the pleading in Roger's eyes.
"Oh alright, where is he?"
"Great, follow me!"
Roger and Collins walked over to where Fi and Aaron were talking. Roger quickly introduced Aaron and Collins, "Collins, this is Aaron, Aaron this is Collins."
"Nice to meet you," Collins said gruffly while reaching out his hand to shake Aaron's.
"Yeah, um nice to meet you too," Aaron quickly shook Collins hand.
"Hey, um, do you want to go out to eat or something?" Collins quietly asked Aaron, he was attracted to this man, but he didn't know what to do with that.
"Um, sure." Aaron grabbed his guitar and the two left the building.
"Good going Romeo," Fi said to Roger.
"Huh, what?" Roger asked looking down to Fi.
"That," she said pointing, "was my ride home."
"Oh, oops, sorry."
"It's alright," she said with a sigh, she bent down and picked up her guitar case, "well, see ya around."
"Yeah..." Roger said quietly then realizing that she was leaving the building he yelled, "wait!"
"Hmm?" Fi said turning around.
"Do you um, would you like to um, I mean..."
"Roger..." she said cutting him off.
"Yeah?"
"Would you like to get some coffee?"
"Sure," Roger said with a relief.
"Great."
A/N: Review please. I know it's long, but I had a bunch of ideas.
"5...4...3...2...1. HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The group shouted at each other. And it was then, in his drunken stupor, that Roger got the feeling the year was about to pick up.
~*~
The next day:
Roger awoke around 12 o'clock in the afternoon with a splitting headache. Stumbling around, he realized he had somehow gotten to his bed last night, or early morning, he didn't really know. Just that around 12 A.M. things were no longer clear, in fact, one might say that around that time his life didn't seem to exist. With that he opened his bedroom door and headed to the bathroom to wash his face.
"Morning Princess!" Mark called from the living room.
"Piss off Mark." Roger grumbled, as Mark laughed at his response. He walked out of the bathroom and plopped down on the couch. "What time did I pass out?"
"Um, around 1:30 I think, by the way, you dance great, maybe you need to go work at the Cat Scratch Club." Roger groaned.
"No, I think I'll stick with the band, at least for now."
"Whatever tweaks your interest," Mark said with a shrug as he pulled himself off of the couch. I'm heading out to go film random people, maybe they won't trash my camera this time."
"Doubt it, but good luck."
"Yuh, thanks." Mark said as he grabbed his camera and walked out the door. Having nothing else to do, Roger grabbed his fender from its case in his bedroom and crawled out onto the fire escaped and sat down. He was about to begin to play, when below him he heard another guitar playing, and a strong voice singing.
Don't waste my time
Pretending to be something you aren't
You don't see how it affects me
And I doubt you'd care if you did.
Roger looked down to see Miss talk-a-lot sitting on a swinging bench and another man beside her playing a guitar.
"Argh, do we really have to perform this tonight?" The girl asked to the man.
"Unfortunately we do. James hasn't come up with anymore lyrics, and this one of the songs we all know and have played...constantly."
"Yeah, yeah, okay let's go over it again, and that's all I'm doing. Damn, hang-overs are defiantly a pain in the..."
"Okay how about we lower the cursing to a minimal zero."
"Yes ma'am...I mean sir!" She started laughing when the man began to beat her with a seat cushion. "Aunt...I mean Uncle! I give, sorry, OW! Would you kindly cease that immature behavior." Roger quietly laughed at her pseudo snobbish tone, he unfortunately knew a few people who spoke like that.
"Yes ma'am, okay one more time." And they played the song once more. Roger noted that they had talent, if he knew where they were playing he might just have to hear the rest of their music. He needed to hear something beside his own band's what he had come to call "bull shit."
"All right Aaron, I'm going to hit the shower then go to work. The gig starts at 7 at CBGB's right?"
"Correct. Have fun. Call if you need anything."
"Har-har." She then crawled back through the window. The man began to strum a few chords, he was actually very talented.
Roger decided to speak up. "That was good."
"Huh?"
"Up here."
"Oh, hey. Thanks. My roommate and I wrote it together after we moved up here."
"Do you have a band?" Roger asked.
"Yeah, Pessimistic Dreams."
"Interesting, care to explain the name?"
"Not especially." Roger didn't really understand the rudeness that was beginning to grow under this man's tone.
"What's your name?" The man asked.
"Roger, and yours?"
"Aaron."
"Well Aaron, your band has a good sound."
"Thanks." He noted that Roger had turned to his guitar. "We're playing at CBGB's around 7 tonight. You can come if you like, hear the rest of our stuff I mean."
"Well my band is performing there around 10:30, but sure I'll come."
"What's the name of your band?"
"The Well Hungarians."
"Oh, you're that Roger."
"What?"
"Nothing, just the manager talks about you and your band a lot. Says you have talent. Wonders why you're still playing at his bar."
"Haven't really gotten a chance to anything besides bar performances."
"That royally sucks. My roommate, she has these big dreams for our band and her acting. That's why we came to New York, I personally don't like it all that much, but she loves it here for some reason. Even loves the shit hole of an apartment we live in. She's real optimistic, and I'd hate to see her dreams crushed, but I have this strong feeling that is what is going to happen."
"Most likely."
"Aaron, would you go into the laundry area and grab me a couple of CLEAN towels?" Aaron's roommate called from within the apartment.
"Yeah, hold on." He called back to her. "I'll be right back," He stated to Roger. Roger nodded to him as he crawled through the window, and he began to strum a few chords.
"Dude, I said clean towels!"
"Those are clean."
"Um, then what's with the yellow stain?"
"Where?"
"Right there."
"Oh, hold on, I'll get two more."
"Thank you."
A few minutes later, Aaron crawled back through the window. "I don't understand how guys date them." Aaron said to Roger.
"Date whom?"
"Women, they're so picky."
"Wait, are you gay?"
"Yup."
"Didn't know that."
"Do you mind?"
"Nah, one of my best friends is gay, Collins, yeah you'll probably see him around later."
"Really?" Aaron sounded interested.
"Yeah, he'll be at our gig tonight, hang around and I'll introduce you two."
"Thanks."
"Aaron..." The roommate within called.
"Gotta go, babysitting calls." Aaron crawled back through the window as Roger laughed at him.
~*~
A few hours later, Mark was walking back to the loft when he ran into a young red-headed women with fair skin and blue eyes. Her bag split open with the collision.
"Oh geez, sorry I'm such a klutz." Mark said to her as he bent down and began helping her gather her things. She just laughed.
"It's all right, not as if I was paying that much attention to where I was going either." She looked up at him, and with a warm smile she said, "Hi."
"Hi, I'm Mark."
"Hi Mark." She stuck out her hand, and he shook it. She just stared at him for a few moments, then began to put things back into her bag.
"Sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"That's 'cause you didn't ask."
"Sorry," he slapped his forehead, "what's your name?"
She laughed again, he was beginning to like the sound. "Fi."
"Phi? As in Pheobe?"
"Oh god no. Fi as in Fiona."
"Oh, that's a pretty name."
"Thanks, I think so too."
"So, you're an artist?" He said noting the sketch pad and pencils that she was putting back in her bag.
"Yeah, in more ways than one."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I like to draw, write music, take pictures, and I sing in a band."
"Wonder Woman." He whispered.
"What?" She asked him with a quizzical look on her face.
"Nothing, just said 'Wonder Woman'."
"Wow, I usually tend not to believe in stereotypes, but some of you New Yorkers are really rude." Fi said as she stuffed the rest of her things in her bag and stood up. "Good day now," and she turned and walked away.
Mark silently scolded himself, then realized he hadn't really said anything. Instead of stopping her to apologize he let her go. "Why are people so dramatic all the time?" He asked himself as he climbed the steps to the loft. "Lucy, I'm home!"
"Out here." Roger stated from the fire escape.
"Hey bud, what's up?"
"Not much, just trying to find myself a muse."
"Can't find anything to write about?"
"Nothing the band will agree to. Apparently my music is too...what's the word? Depressing."
"Really? Can't imagine why." Mark stated sarcastically, he had heard Roger's lyrics lately and his band was right, they were depressing.
"Well, if you have a better idea for lyrics why don't you write them?" Roger said angrly to Mark.
"Hey, don't shoot me, I just agree with what your band is saying about your music. Lighten it up a little bit. We all know you're upset, and you have a reason to be, but not everyone wants to live in your world."
"Whatever Mark, go back to your camera."
"Not this again. Why is it that you always have to stab me with your words when I try to point something out. Constructive critiscm Roger, get used to it." Mark turned away and went to his room where his film editing equipment was.
Roger simply brushed his hair out of his eyes and began to think of "happy" lyrics.
Looking into your eyes
I see who I really am
Who I'm supposed to be
And how I'm supposed to survive
"That sucks. Screw it." After his attempt had failed, he decided to just sit and stare at the prostitutes and junkies, the tourists and dreamers. All of them would end the same way, dead. So why did people continue to try so hard. He laughed at them. He knew something they didn't. "It doesn't matter how hard you try, everyone fails." He whispered to the wind.
~*~
Roger and his friends entered the club were Aaron, Fi, and the rest of the band were about to start playing and grabbed a table towards the front. Roger pointed out Aaron to Collins, and Collins turned back to him with a look of approval, but a shadow of anger in his eyes.
"He's cute Rog, but stop. I don't want to date anyone, I don't care how attractive they are, so let me be, please!" Collins said in an angry voice.
"Sorry Collins, I just told him about you, and he wanted to meet you."
"It's alright, but when it's time, I'll know, and I won't need you or anyone to 'hook me up' with anyone."
"Crap," Mark whispered from the other end of the table. Roger turned towards him.
"That's the girl I pissed off earlier," Mark said pointing up to Fi onstage.
"I wouldn't worry about it, she talks a lot." Roger said dismissively.
"Yeah, but still, I ran into her, and she didn't mind that, but I opened my mouth and pissed her off. I'm destined to live alone."
"Mark..."
"Yeah?"
"Cut the drama."
"Thanks, Roger, like you're one to talk."
"Would you two kindly shut up, they're about to start, and considering we're sitting up front, I doubt it would be respectful if you two sat there arguing like two school girls while they're playing." Maureen stated with a temper.
"Yes ma'am." Roger and Mark stated in unison.
It was then that Fi walked up to the microphone. "Hello ladies and gents. This is our first time performing in New York, so I hope you like it. We're the Pessimistic Dreams, enjoy." And then they began their set, with Fi being the lead vocalist.
Your eyes threaten me,
Your voice tortures me,
There is something inside I can't break.
Leave it up to you to misbehave
You don't even know what it is
To be me in this world that's so damn un-accepting.
Roger's table had gotten quiet as they listened, and Roger realized once again at how talented they were, but even more so at how great her voice sounded. She even played the guitar wonderfully.
Let it go,
Just let it go,
You can't let your fears lead you all day.
Remember who you were,
Who you are,
You have so much to give,
Let it go,
Oh, let it go.
For the next two and a half hours Roger, Mark, Collins, Maureen, and Joanne listened to the band with interest, and at the end of their set, they realized the audience liked their band too. Rarely did the audience ever give this amount of approval to new bands, or really any bands besides Roger's band. Fi once again walked up to the mike.
"Thanks for listening to our shit, the real music doesn't start until later tonight. Have a wonderful night folks."
Roger then stood up and looked around for his band, they had to go up in thirty minutes so they needed to set up. "Bye guys, see you when we're done." Roger then walked over to the table in the corner where his band was sitting. "Hey guys." They just grunted in response. "Uh, right, well we need to set up, so uh, move." Roger then walked up to the now blacked out stage where Fi, Aaron, and the rest of the band were dismantling their things. He turned to Aaron, "You guys sounded great."
"Huh," Aaron looked up to see who was speaking to him, when he saw that it was Roger he said, "Oh, yeah, thanks, we were worried that it wouldn't sound too grand. With Fi's voice sounding like a dying cow and all."
"Gee, thanks Aaron, I love you too." Fi said with a smile at Aaron.
"You aren't offended by that?" Roger asked Fi as she turned back to her guitar case.
"Nah, he knows he's the only one that can say that though, the rest of the guys would get their butts kicked if they said that."
"What, that your voice sounded bad?"
"No...if they said my voice sounded like a dying cow. I'm guessing you don't like the sound of my voice then?" Fi told Roger.
"Oh no, I didn't mean that, it actually sounded good."
"Why, you sound surprised." She said now standing completely up. She realized their height difference should intimidate her, since he was defiantly over six feet and she barely reached a mere 5'5, but she was tired of guys like him. Guys who thought their advice meant everything. She had just broken off an engagement with a guy just like him, and she was no longer willing to take crap from guys sitting down. Roger obviously must have noticed the anger beginning to grow in her eyes.
"I apologize; I just meant to come up here to give you guys a compliment, didn't mean to cause offense." He turned to walk off stage.
"Wait," he turned back to face her, "sorry, I just get kind of touchy when it comes to my music."
"It's alright. Hey, I just realized I don't even know your name. What is it?"
"I'm Fi," she said as she stuck out her hand. He reached out and grasped it.
"Nice to meet you Fi, need some help to unpack?"
"No it's fine, I think we're done. Come on Aaron, let's get out of this big boy's way."
"Hey! Are you calling me fat?" He asked playfully pushing her shoulder.
"Nope, just making fun of your height."
"Yeah, well two can play at that game."
"Sure, but not right now, your band needs to set up, and we need to get out of your way, bye," and Fi turned and walked off stage. Roger just shook his head and set his guitar down at the front microphone.
"Hot isn't she?"
"What?"
"I said she's hot," Roger turned to look at who was telling him this, it was the bass player, Greg.
"Oh, I guess so, didn't really notice." Roger said with a shrug. He turned to look for her in the darkened audience and saw her at the bar talking to the drum player. She had her hand on his shoulder and was laughing. She then flipped her hair over her shoulder. Roger realized Greg was right, she was hot, attractive, whatever women liked being called these days.
From 10:30 till 1 am the Well Hungarians played, and as usual they were received by a generous audience that clapped and screamed for them. The band knew that part of it was in due to Roger's attractiveness, it was obvious from the way ten girls stood around the stage in extra-small, extra- tight clothing cheering from the band. Roger often found it annoying, but the guys of the band enjoyed it. Out of a band of five, only two of the band members no longer did drugs. Roger being one of those two found it hard to hang around them since he used to be a junkie himself. Greg was the other one who remained free of drugs, Hunter, Gabe, and Nick however were a different story. Those three rarely went anywhere without being on something. Roger found it aggravating since it spurred his roommates to question whether he was clean or not. At the end of their set, and after they had taken down everything, Roger walked off the stage to be greeted by Aaron and Fi.
"Good job," Fi told Roger with a pat on his arm. She felt the tautness of his muscles under his t-shirt and quickly removed her hand. Roger found himself missing her hand on his arm.
"Yeah, good job," Aaron stated noticing the awkwardness of the situation, "so, uh, where's this Collins guy you were talking about?" Aaron asked while craning his neck to look around.
"Oh, huh, hold on." Roger walked away in search of Collins, he found him at the entrance. "Hey, Collins, buddy, come here for a few moments." Collins walked over to him.
"What do you need man?"
"I want to introduce you to Aaron."
"Roger, I thought we already discussed this," Collins said as he began to turn away, Roger grabbed his arm.
"We did, but please he really wants to meet you, he is new to the city, just show him around or something, please?" Collins saw the pleading in Roger's eyes.
"Oh alright, where is he?"
"Great, follow me!"
Roger and Collins walked over to where Fi and Aaron were talking. Roger quickly introduced Aaron and Collins, "Collins, this is Aaron, Aaron this is Collins."
"Nice to meet you," Collins said gruffly while reaching out his hand to shake Aaron's.
"Yeah, um nice to meet you too," Aaron quickly shook Collins hand.
"Hey, um, do you want to go out to eat or something?" Collins quietly asked Aaron, he was attracted to this man, but he didn't know what to do with that.
"Um, sure." Aaron grabbed his guitar and the two left the building.
"Good going Romeo," Fi said to Roger.
"Huh, what?" Roger asked looking down to Fi.
"That," she said pointing, "was my ride home."
"Oh, oops, sorry."
"It's alright," she said with a sigh, she bent down and picked up her guitar case, "well, see ya around."
"Yeah..." Roger said quietly then realizing that she was leaving the building he yelled, "wait!"
"Hmm?" Fi said turning around.
"Do you um, would you like to um, I mean..."
"Roger..." she said cutting him off.
"Yeah?"
"Would you like to get some coffee?"
"Sure," Roger said with a relief.
"Great."
A/N: Review please. I know it's long, but I had a bunch of ideas.
