Anastasia

New Beginnings

The Whiskey Continued-

Anastasia P.O.V

I didn't know how we ended up at a crummy 50s themed diner at the end of the sunset strip at 3 am. I wasn't complaining though, I had good company and pancakes. Saul or Slash or whatever you wanna call him was sitting in front of me drowning down a mixture of coffee and Jack Daniels impatiently waiting for his French toast. He was the good company. In all the few years I had been in this city he was a breath of fresh air. He knew how to talk, debate, and basically, have good grounded conversation. It was a surprise considering the fact that he was in a rock band that looked like they couldn't care less about the world.

"You know for me I never got that-" we had been talking about woman's rights for the past 20 minutes and he was somewhat even more engaged than I was about the topic. "Like what is it to people that make them believe that women are less capable of doing what men can do? It's a fact that women are like 100 times smarter than dudes. And that equal pay shit, I still can't believe you guys still don't get that even though it's your right as a fucking person on this fucking damned planet" his speech was slurred as he was rubbing his temple in pure frustration.

"I don't know. They just see us as a walking pair of tits." I chuckled stirring my milkshake. He let outs small laugh "I mean yeah you guys have tits and all of you are equally beautiful in you own way, but like still, you guys are a hell of a lot more capable than fucking men. Trust me. Dudes fucking suck. Myself including." he let out a dare I sat it, giggle? We both starting laughing as the waitress put down his french toast in front of him. "Finally" he whined and started drenching it in maple syrup.

"So like what do you do? You work? School?" he asked his mouth full.

"I work at a record store on Hollywood Boulevard. I used to go to UCLA, I dropped out to start acting." I sighed thinking about my life choices and if they were worth it all or not. He somehow noticed my frustration and put down his fork to bring his hand over and lift up my chin.

"Hey, that's fucking awesome." he simply said staring at me. "That takes balls. Or vagina, however you wanna put it. Balls are weak. Let's stick to vagina." I cracked up at the reference accidentally snorting the whipped cream of my milkshake.

"Did you come here for school in the first place or was that just an excuse to get away from where was it? New Heaven?"

"New Haven. And yeah I guess you could say that. My parents were too much for me to handle. They're both fucking perfectionists." I sighed trying not think about my hardass parents.

"Oh shit. What do they do?"

"They're professors at Yale University."

"Fuck. Ouch. I don't blame you for coming here then." he laughed as he finished up eating his french toast and quickly lit up a cigarette. He offered me the one he had just lit up and took out another one for himself. I quickly took it and inhaled.

"Yeah, I still haven't told them I dropped out. It been a fucking year." I shook my head.

"Whatever, you can tell them that when you're at the premiere of your first big movie and tell them to kiss your ass." He leaned against the window and put his feet up on the couch of the booth ashing his cigarette onto the empty plate.

"I wish." I scoffed and leaned back against the couch. "So what about you, you like being in a band?" it was a simple question, I'd always wondered how it felt to be talented enough to play an instrument, let alone be in a band.

"Yeah, I mean, as long as I'm playing guitar and doing my thing, I couldn't care less about the other stuff that comes along with it."

"When did you start playing?" I was leaned over the table now with my chin in my hands eyeing the man in front of me. He seemed so laid back, care free, just purely himself. I wonder how that felt.

"14-15? I don't fucking remember. My parents were both in the music industry so I was always familiar with it. It just felt natural." He shrugged and put out his cig.

"That's amazing. Guess it runs in your blood then huh?" I smiled

"That's too fucking cheesy. You're too cute." he smiled back and leaned over the table the same way I was and just looked at me. "Has anyone told you that your face is fucking ridiculously heavenly looking?" he started playing with a loose strand of my hair.

I laughed "No, what does that even mean?" I shook my head and looked back up at him.

"It means you look fucking God sent. Like angelic, like a painting."

"Wow, slow down their guitar boy. I'm literally not any of those things. I might look it, but trust me I'm far off from being angelic once you get to know me." I winked and leaned back on the couch.

He ran his hand through his curly hair and let out a big sigh "Fuck," he gave me a huge grin "And with that attitude, and that face. God is fucking real."

We both talked until 5 am and then he insisted on walking me home. I haven't had a night like that in so long. Everything about it was perfect. The way we talked, laughed, argued... I was expecting him to be all touchy and gross like any other dude in California that was in a band, but he kept the perfect amount of respectful distance. He would hold my hand here and there, put his arm around my shoulders, and even for the last 10 minutes of our walk back to my apartment, even gave me a piggy back ride that I insisted not to pursue.

"So, when will I see you again?" he asked staring up at me from two stairs below the porch.

"That depends, when do you want to see me." I stepped closer to him and slowly pushed away a few strands of hair out of his face.

"God, I kind of don't want to leave." he bashfully chuckled and looked at his shoes. I laughed and kissed his cheek.

"Come find me at work tomorrow. I'm done at 4."

"Don't complain if I'm there before." He winked and stepped down from the stairs.