Draw Me In
–|*|–
Two – The Lonely Sound of Your Voice
.
*~ Cause to stand up, out in the crowd
You are one in a million ~*
.
.
My eyes widen as the slow, sultry voice begins.
Having never heard live music before, I didn't really know what to expect. I had been too busy panicking over the mass of people to give much thought to anything else, to be honest.
But now, listening to the voice so close and so raw and real and right there, well . . . it almost makes me wish that I hadn't wussed out on going to all those gigs before.
Almost.
There's a pause . . . and then the lights flash on just as the voice increases in volume and tempo . . . and just about everything, really.
I seem to be the only one blinded by said lights, because the swell of noise that rushes over me like a wave from behind almost tips me out of my chair . . . alerting me to the fact that everyone has either just had a really amazing outer body experience, or that they've seen something they really like.
Maybe both.
When my vision clears, I can sort of understand the hubbub.
I say sort of because it still seems weird to me to scream over seeing anybody . . . ever.
I only glance at the stage before peeking to my right at Alice just in time to see her mouth fall open. I grin before side eying Rose, to see her equally enraptured, though to her credit, her mouth does remain closed.
I snigger, but it's cut short when everyone suddenly stands up, my friends included.
I glance around in horror, feeling suddenly squashed on all sides.
This is like a Mexican wave gone wrong.
"C'mon!" Alice scream-yells at me (because it's really quite loud in here), tugging me up by my elbow. I concede only because I feel like if I remain sitting, I might get trampled on by the people behind me.
Why are there even chairs in here if no one's going to stay in them?
I cross my arms over my chest. They had provided some modicum of comfort and now it's all bodies bodies bodies again.
For another distraction (I suppose that's it's not really appropriate to call the main performance a distraction) I let my gaze drift back on over to the stage just in time to see the singer arch his back as he belts out into the microphone, his voice raw and rich and rough.
I try not to. I really do.
But I gape.
I feel my ears vibrate with the sudden influx of sound, as if by looking I've only just suddenly tuned myself into what's happening right in front of me. But I quickly dart my gaze away from him, as if I've been caught with my hand in the biscuit tin. I don't like the sudden swell of blood in my cheeks or the quick thumping of my heart, because it makes me feel . . . out of control.
I rush my gaze over to the guitarist and drummer for the next few songs, watching the way their hands move. I find myself almost mesmerised by the way the guitarist – I'm sure Alice told me what his name was: John? Jace? Jack? Something with a J, anyway – moves his fingers so dexterously up and down the strings. And the drummer moves his hands so quickly but so rhythmically – really don't know his name, though I'm pretty sure that's who Rose is here for (given the direction of her gaze).
Watching them and allowing myself to be drawn along with the sometimes soft, sometimes husky, but always beautiful sound, affects me in a most peculiar but thankful way.
I forget about the crowds because I stop thinking. My mind empties – just like that – and in the hazy mist of us in the audience below, it seems like they're the only people shining bright enough to see.
So when the main guy picks up a guitar, of course I have to look.
My eyes fall down to his hands as he starts picking out a slow melody. The stage darkens dramatically again, fading out the other two members until the spotlight is almost focused solely on him.
I watch his fingers in fascination as they move and flex in ways I couldn't dream of making mine do. They're so long that he makes difficult chords look like child's play, and when he starts strumming, it's smooth and flawless and tricky but he makes it look so bloody easy.
When his voice joins in he sounds sombre, and he sings of something like loss but which isn't really as it warps and changes so expertly into something bitter, and then sweet. Without all the other instrumental – just him and his guitar – he sounds closer, like he's invading my personal space bubble (which is usually the size of a room) and pressing against my skin.
I swallow thickly, and I decide to risk a nervous glance at his face.
I can't really see much because his head his tipped down. Still, that does nothing to alleviate my quick heart as my eyes drip drip drip down his dark hair, down his sticky white t-shirt and dark jeans, and then trickles up up up until I can see how the shadows play out across the skin I can see.
I can't look away. But he looks up before I can try to, anyway.
I try not to. I really do.
But I gape. Again.
He is undoubtedly the prettiest boy I've ever seen. Although, by the stubble dusting his very angular jawline, it's probably a mistake to call him a boy. And I don't reckon he'd be too appreciative of me referring to him as pretty, either.
But really.
Just . . . really.
I swallow thickly. Again.
But have the good sense to close my mouth.
–|*|–
That lonely, sad-but-something-else-too song turns out to be the only one of its kind. The music picks up after that, the guitarist and drummer reappearing, and I find myself feeling an oxymoronic mixture of relieved and disappointed.
I go back to staring at hands.
But at one point, when the singer stops to address the crowd, I find myself unprepared.
I did not anticipate speaking.
In a moment of confusion (and disorientation, frankly, at the sudden demise of music and the sudden restoration of the noise behind me), I glance up.
He says things.
Possibly quite a few things.
But I don't hear them.
Because I think he's looking at me.
–|*|–
.
.
.
A/N:
Just so everyone's clear, this story will be set entirely in England. At the end of every chapter, if there are any words I think may be difficult for someone not from here to interpret, I'll chuck 'em down here with a translation. :)
See you soon!
