She was a mystery, but I would follow her everywhere just so I could be in her presence. So I could see her eyes light up every time she did something she loved. And how much I wished she looked at me in the same way as she looked at every opportuni...
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The sound of a guitar being strummed was the first thing I heard when I entered the pub. It was empty, the only people inside were the ones that would perform live that night, talking to each other. The place was small but a fairly large amount of tables fitted in. The whole construction was wooden, giving it an older vibe and a warmer feeling, like you were walking into your home. It was dimly-lit and the air smelled like rose candles that were actually lining up the wall, unlit.
"There he is, our saviour!" Martin exclaimed, putting down his guitar and coming up to me with open arms.
He hugged me briefly and patted my shoulder. Martin was a tall guy with dyed blond hair that was always falling in his face and brown eyes. We had learned to play guitar together many years before. After he graduated high school, he formed his own band, turning into our local music stars. They already had many requests to perform at pubs and bars, but they hadn't signed any record deal yet, 'Slowly making their way up.' as Martin liked to say.
The rest of the members of the group came over to greet me as their guitarist for the night. Martin had called me this morning, asking me for a favour since their guitarist was down with the flu, so I had to fill in his place. It was my first time playing to a crowd that didn't consist of my mums and other relatives. I was a bit nervous but I felt comfortable performing with people I had known since my teens.
We spent the next couple of hours rehearsing all the songs that we were going to play that night. I felt the temperature of my body rise the longer we were playing, small beads of sweat lining my forehead, soaking my t-shirt despite the cold coming in from outside. Martin's voice was deep and raspy, which completely suited the rock type of music they chose to play. Me and Aamir, who was the bassist, would occasionally join in with the chorus or just do the backing voices. Aamir had jet black hair that matched his dark eyes and even though he wasn't very muscular, he managed to make the whole scrawny/sloppy look work. Then there was Nick who was behind us on the drums. He had dark skin and a short baby afro. His most striking feature was his eyes that were a light green colour.
After getting every song right we decided to take a break until it was our time to perform. Outside the sky had already turned a dark blue with only a few clouds obscuring the view of the moon and the wind had dramatically picked up. We had a small room at the back of the pub, where we could hang out until the place filled.
When we had finished a beer or two, there was a knock on the door from the owner of the pub, telling us that it was time to go on stage. The other guys cheered and I was the only one that stayed quiet. Nick was playing with his drumsticks in one hand and come next to me, patting my shoulder.
"Don't you worry Harry, just do what you did in the rehearsal and you will be fine. Nothing could go wrong," he encouraged me.
"Yes, nothing. You know, unless you forget the chords," Aamir smirked.
"Or your lyrics," Nick added teasingly.
"And if you do, it's not like a room full of people have witnessed it," Aamir shrugged, but was quickly hit on the head by Martin who was rolling his head at their immaturity.
