𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 | 𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜

𝐓𝐖𝐎

"Nothing too crazy. Expect a lot of Welsh from Dave. Paul's quiet... Dunno, they're just chilled out guys." He shrugged.

"Not really giving too much away, are you?"

"They're hard to describe, to be honest with you. You just have to meet them," John chuckled.

Elena left it at that and sat back, enjoying the rest of the car ride. The radio had treated them nicely that day, feeding them with the slick tunes of Little Richard and The Drifters, to Elvis and The Everly Brothers. All music the two friends enjoyed throughout the years. Elena had taken a recent interest in The Rolling Stones, a sharp turn from what she was used to listening to. Growing up, she found her place in the Blues, and Soul. She could listen to the likes of Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole for hours and never tire of their silky vocals; the pure emotion and heart that went into each stave and syllable rang deep within her, and she felt every word like kitten kisses upon her ears.

Since John decided to become a full-time drummer, she'd been exposed to a wider variety of music that seeped from the essence of da blues to form a complete musical revolution that had quickly grown on her. The first time she heard the Stones was during her late night shift at work. Minimal pay for a 17-year-old, but the pub's great company and tunes cancelled out the meesely wage. Satisfaction stuck with her all night. I can't get no...neh neh neh nene neh neh... All. Night.

The flood gates were swung open once she stepped foot into the record shop in search of more Stones. That's when she first came across Bay City Rollers, Cream, The Yardbirds... it was a whole different world and Elena hoped with her entire being that there would be more of it to come—that it wasn't a mere diversion in the chaotic lineage of music evolution.

Bag over his shoulder, John led Elena inside the building, where Crawling King Snakes had booked out a small space for a couple of hours in exchange for £100. Dave was somewhat peeved that they had to spend that much on a couple of hours, but was easily convinced nonetheless.

"Ayy, there he is!" Paul exclaimed, raising his arms in the air as he spotted John at the door with his female companion.

"Ayy, y'alright, mate?" John greeted him with a manly hug, slapping each other's backs in the process. It amused Elena greatly when she witnessed John in the presence of other guys; his entire demeanour toughened and he gave the facade of a sharp-tongued lad's lad. Yes, he had it in him. But the correlation between that and his surroundings was too coincidental for it not to be causational.

The room really was small for a jamming session. Four yellow strip lights hung above, and the carpet was worn and colourless, as though waiting to be quenched by the kaleidoscopic symphonies of talented musicians.

"Dave, get your arse over 'ere," Paul waved his hand over to the other male in the room, long-haired and lost in thought with a blue bass guitar slung over his shoulder.

"El," John began, slinging his arm around Elena and bringing her beside him. "This is Paul Martinez and Dave Edmunds—guitar and bass. They're mental. Beware."

Elena laughed and shook her head, holding out her hand to greet the two men politely. They reciprocated the greeting with friendly smiles, one accompanied by a cigarette hanging from his lips.

"This is Elena. She's my best friend, partner in crime, and primary critic. If anyone knows what sounds good, it's this girl, here," he proudly introduced with a squeeze of her shoulders against him.

"Good to meet you," Paul said through the muffle of his cigarette.

"Right, El, I need to set up properly, you're alright just hanging about, yeah?" John checked, putting his bag down on a nearby chair.