𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝙷𝙴𝚁࿐ ྂ ᴊᴇꜰꜰ ʙᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʏ

ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ

POLLY SAT IN HER TINY OFFICE,

thumbing through photos for a random band's potential cover art, she stopped for a moment and checked the clock on her wall. She realized it was time to tune into 91.1 WFMU, they had a segment, The Music Faucet which regularly had newer artists or bands come and play a few songs. Jeff had made his way to the New Jersey station in East Orange earlier that morning with his Guild acoustic, and a nine-song setlist consisting of wildly different artists.

Her small radio atop her desk squealed has she found the right address, smiling softly when she recognized his voice, introducing his song. Polly was sad he didn't have any originals for his set, but he still managed to make each cover his own- as he always did.

Her favorite place to see him play would forever be Sin-é, but to have a live performance in her office while she did grunt work made her day much more bearable. Even though it was on the radio.

The second song he played, if you see her, say hello, was Polly's favorite Dylan song, and he had introduced it by bashfully saying 'my girlfriend told me to play it,' with a small laugh as he began strumming the resonating chords.

"And though our separation, it pierced me to the heart. She still lives on inside of me- we've never been apart." He sang, the lyrics naturally and painfully reminding her of the off-and-on times of their relationship. Though it felt like they were both at a point where nothing could split them apart again, so the verse didn't stay in her mind for long.

Each song was perfected due to all the times he'd played them throughout their apartment obsessively, being Jeff was his own greatest critic. He wanted each note to sound the best it could.

And you didn't have to listen too hard to know he succeeded.

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IT WASN'T UNUSUAL FOR JEFF TO COME AROUND THE COLUMBIA OFFICES,

in fact, a good amount of people could probably recognize him just from the jingle of the keychain he wore on his belt as he walked down the hall to Polly's office, back to Steves, and to random managers. But mostly, it was always Polly's office he was in. He wanted so desperately to know how a record label worked, taking a special interest in his girlfriend's creative work.

Now, he sat against Polly's office wall with a Columbia monogrammed notepad in his hands along with a matching pen as he wrote random things upon it, along with a few messy doodles. He was waiting impatiently for five o'clock to come, the arms of the clock seemingly moving too slow.

"Can you go early?" He asked Polly.

"I don't know," Polly said frustrated, "someone from A&R, or a product manager is out sick so Steve gave me all this shit to do..." she trailed off, frowning when she saw the smile on his face.

He crumbled up a piece of paper, throwing it to her, but missing and it bounced off her shoulder. She smoothed it out on her desk, seeing a badly drawn caricature of her at the small desk. "You're welcome." He said, dodging the ball as it flew to the wall a few inches from his head.

"Thank you, so much." Polly's words were sarcastic, she was just trying to get through the work in front of her.

Jeff eyed his guitar case that sat near him, but decided against grabbing it, instead focusing once more on Polly as she worked. Still so pretty, he thought. Even in the things she thought made her ugly like tied back hair and work clothes.

Polly dropped the last few papers in Steve's office before shrugging on her coat and making her way out of the offices with Jeff by her side. She pulled her coat around her body tighter as the streets were beginning to be
covered in a thin layer of snow. Jeff's hand warmed her cold one, and he ran his thumb in little circles over hers, as he always did.

The city was serene apart from the traffic, but if you looked past that, the way the snow danced down onto the pavement and awnings of businesses was beautiful along with the cloud streaked sunset. Jeff had pulled her into this small restaurant-cafe type thing, beckoning for her to join him at a window table he'd chosen.

"I thought we were going home." Polly thought out loud, though pleased to have dinner with him.

"I know," he paused. "This place is cool, and we never do shit like this."

Polly looked around the restaurant, though not fancy, it was nice. "I don't need shit like this." 

"Yeah, but you deserve it. More even." He took a sip from his water the waiter set down, "I don't see you that much, you're busy. I'm busy." He continued.

"Jeff, we live together." She smiled, almost laughing.

"Yeah I know. Besides when I see you there."

Polly shook her head, "you make no sense."

He shushed her playfully, "just enjoy, I dunno, the ambiance." He gestured to the candle in between them, and the paintings that hung on the old brick walls.

The two stayed in the small restaurant talking and laughing together until the waiter regretfully informed them that they were closing. They found their way to the East River waterfront, sitting on an old bench outlooking on the water and city scape. Polly rested her head on his shoulder, but was soon disrupted as he reached for his guitar.

Of course, she thought. A moment with Jeff would never be without music. "I haven't played this in a while." He started saying, tuning his guitar for a moment. "But it was the first song I wrote about you."

Polly knew what song he talked about, it was one she'd once played on piano whilst he was writing it.

"Love, let me sleep tonight on your couch, and remember the smell of the fabric of your simple city dress."

Polly watched his hands as they played the song so flawlessly. "Oh, that was so real," he continued, singing the same line a few times over.

She listened silently, all the whole thinking how lucky she was, a thought that seemed to be constantly echoing through her mind. How had she gotten this lucky?

"I love you, but I'm afraid to love you." That verse he sung so softly no longer held its meaning as it once did almost three years ago.

He finished and put the guitar back.

"I love you." Once more she rested her head on his shoulder.

He smiled to himself, "I love you too." He said back. How had he gotten this lucky?

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