Midnight Talks #Wattys2017

two

"You're like venom in my veins and you've slowly taken over my heart and I don't know why but I'm okay with that."

| CHAPTER 2: EVELYN

DEAR MOTHER NATURE,
Mrs. Nature, why do you hate me so much? Do you have a permanent tampon stuck up you like in those crappy Tampax adverts? If so I kindly suggest you stock up on pain killers, chocolate, cranberry juice and a heating pad and stop taking your mood out on the rest of us.

Sincerely, Evelyn.

You know how the British have that stereotype of consistently complaining about the  weather? Yeah, well, I think we certainly deserve that right. I think to myself as the rain pelts down harder. How did it go from sunny 20 degrees celsius to 11 celsius and hellish rain in literally  an hour?  I utter, looking down at my oxford flats that were slowly filling up. I groaned loudly, fighting the urge to take the soggy newspaper from my fingers (as I was currently using it as a pathetic excuse for a shelter and slapping it across Mother Natures face. Hypothetically of course, for obvious reasons.

I sigh throwing my 'shelter' into the nearest bin and running as fast as I could into the nearest building in my sight as the rain began to come down harder. My dark hair clung into my face as I neared into what looked like a pub but it had a stage? Perhaps it's a karaoke bar? I thought sauntering into the bar and sat down on one of the stools by the stage.

"-- The Roxy's long time favourites, The Dirtbags!" The presenter yelled into the mic, almost spitting everywhere in the process.

And the Dirtbags? Isn't that what you call the bag that sucks all the dirt in a vacuum cleaner?

All of a sudden four boys came onto the stage all clad in black, besides one. He scanned the crowd before sitting down on the stool besides the microphone. His blue eyes shined brightly, a small yet sext smirk on his lips. His dark hair fell into his  eyes as he let his red plaid flannel droop from his shoulders, exposing his toned muscles and the outline of a tattoo. "Hey guys, how are you doing tonight?" He spoke to the fifty or so people that were lingering around the bar. A few people cheered in response.

"Okay, good."

Damn Dora, at least let someone actually say an actual word. I thought and chuckled at my lame joke.

"My name's Kyle, we got Griffin on drums," The drummer introduced as 'Griffin did a small solo and smiled, his shaggy long blonde hair up tight in a man bun, a few strands covering his eyes. "Evan on guitar," 'Evan gave a shy quirky smile. "Slater filling in on bass," 'Slater' pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a blush on his cheeks, cute. He nodded at the crowd, giving a small wave. "And me, singing obviously and on keyboard." He chuckled. "And we are the Dirtbags; the first song we'll be singing is Wonderwall. Sing along if you know it."

I rolled my eyes at his intro. That was, until they started playing.

You know that age old saying 'don't judge a book by its cover'? Yeah, well I've always thought it was a bullshit saying because you'd judge a book the second you picked it up. You judge by its age, the cover, the author and the blurb but then just by listening to them play honestly completely and utterly made me want to revise my opinion on not only the saying but perhaps them. 

There was just something about how each of them were playing that left me completely transfixed. I had never really been the type to go to concerts or listen religiously to music. (Especially because the first album I brought was one by Las Ketchup in year 6 - don't judge me.) Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't one of those girls who'd buy band t-shirts and show them off and act like I listened to their music  and get super offended when someone didn't listen to that band and I wasn't exactly a preppy dressy type of girl either.

I watched as the one in the hat, his eyes closed and his fingers moved fluently across the keyboard. You could almost hear the need and desperation that was in his voice. He somehow automatically made you want to connect and listen to him singing. Each and every one of them played with so much passion that I stood awestruck once the crowd began yelling for an encore, not even noticing that their set had finished.

The drummer rushed in front of the guy in the hat- Kyle was his name...I think- and yelled into the microphone, almost silencing the crowd instantly. "We're here all night, if any of you guys want an autograph or my number we'll be right over there!" He pointed to the quiet area behind the that was cornered off with a red velvet rope. I grimaced as a girl next to me practically screamed into my ear before running towards the rope.

"So, What did you think?" I heard a husky voice say from behind me, I gasped and turned around in fear.

"Do you not know better than to sneak up on people?" I yelled at the stranger in front of me, my eyes rounded slightly noticing who it was. I winced. Damn it Evelyn.

He chuckled, "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. It's just, I haven't seen you around the Roxy before, and you don't really seen like the type to be in a music bar, more like a café. Not that it's a bad thing. Its actually refreshing," He smiled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his overly ripped jeans. I nodded at his observation. "Anyway, what did you think of the Dirtbags?"

So, there I was standing in front of him, Kyle in all of his glory. My hair sticking into my face, probably looking like a drowned rat. And he smiled at me, that beautiful egotistical cocky smile and what did I say?

"You were really pitchy." Lie.

He looked taken aback, his eyebrow raised. "Pitchy?" I nodded. "Love, we certainly were not 'pitchy' in anyway."

That's because you weren't but I refuse to tell you otherwise.

"Yeah, until today." I retort, looking up at him. A small smile on my lips.

He nodded and sat on the chair next ti me. "What's your name?" 

I looked around, seeing his band mates laughing and heading towards the meeting point where a few dozen people were gathered. "Aren't you supposed to be over there with your band mates?"

He looked over with a small sigh and took off his fedora for a second. "Suppose," He licked his lips before standing up. "See you around?" He asked.

"Probably not,". I grinned and stood up also, wincing at the band on stage howling a Lady Gaga song. Kyle chuckled and stalked off towards his band mates. "Hey wait!" I called to his retreating figure, he turned almost instantly.

"Yeah?"

"Evelyn." His eyes glazed over, confusion written on his face.

"My name. Its Evelyn," I stated.

"I'll see you later, Eve. Hopefully next time you hear us we won't be so 'pitchy'." He winked before turning back to the rest of his band mates.

I looked down at my watch. 21:09PM. Shit. I inwardly groaned and I neared the exit of the Roxy. My feet scurried along the floor, stepping in the spilled beer and peanuts on the floor. How on Earth did two freaking hours go past and I didn't notice? The cool Autumn wind blew, kissing my cheeks. The damp strands of hair still covered me, almost acting like a blanket as I ran down the busy pavement nearing the abandoned Library. I had always found it funny how they had called New York the city that never sleeps, to all those people I'd ask them If they had ever been to London. I crawled through the gap between the "KEEP OUT" sign and the wall listening to the cars tear through the busy streets and the street walkers cheer at one of the performers by  Trafalgar Square.

The dark slowly seeped through the decrepit building and I felt my heart start to race. I hadn't ever liked the dark. I detested the way it lured in quietly, casting deathly shadows of things. Suffocating and twisting objects shadows making them appear scarier than it could really be. My pace quickened through the library. The old smell of books surrounded me as I walked through the study were an old mattress and pillow lay, in other words, home.

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UNEDITED: I just really wanted to publish this chapter. Not to worry, It will be edited by Tuesday (WIFI comes back) thank you for all the support so far guys!