Serial Lover

Chapter 1: The Pianist

A woman sighs in frustration as she allows her fingers to dance across the smooth ivory keys, the sounds of a melody fill the room before a misplaced note is played once more. The melody begins again. The woman so content on perfecting this melody is Misty Jo Sherwood, not famous by any means but a piano contest winner and a struggling college student. Misty was the quiet girl who sat in the back of a large room with endless rows of seats and no one paid much attention to her. Her circular glasses pushed high up on her button nose just so her smokey gray eyes could peer through them. Commonly Misty’s raven wavy locks were restrained in a messy bun to keep it out of her face as she worked through notes and books.
Misty didn’t consider herself smart in the slightest, but many of her so called friends thought she was brilliant. Misty had lots of faults, for one she was broke, no money in the bank besides her crappy job as a bartender and whenever she was in a lesson she would find herself drifting back to music. She would draw a small score on her paper and draw the notes along the score, biting her lip in concentration before she would get knocked from her musical dream by a  question from a classmate.
It was the same question from the same student everytime, the student was a tall lanky  man with a large head of dark oak curls that cascaded down to his shoulders. His large chocolate brown eyes full of curiosity as he examined the score, a smile crossing his cheeks revealing large pointed canines. Misty scrambles to cover the score with one of her books; she looks at the man for only a moment as heat invades her face and a soft shade of pink spreads across her cheek.
“Did you make that?” The man’s thick british accent caught Misty slightly off guard. She nods slowly and keeps her voice low and quiet, she didn’t know why this man was so curious about her work. Besides music wasn’t the main reason she was in college, space was.
“Yes, why do you ask?” Misty whispers as she sets her books aside and scribbles down some notes about stars and milky ways. She was trying to dodge this conversation, she didn’t like others looking at her music or even trying to peek into her musical talent. It was something she kept heavily stored away from societies eye.
“I just was wondering-” “Class is dismissed!” The professor shouted, interrupting the man. At this announcement, Misty didn’t wait to hear another word from the man. She stuffed her notebook into her backpack and slings the bag over her shoulder before escaping through the doors. She felt quite rude to leaving the man there without another word, but it was the fear of being late that urged her forward.
She rushed down the crowded halls, clutching her bag close to her chest as she bumped into and pushed, one push sent her stumbling forward. Her notebook slides from her bag as she sits up on her knees, a few people around her laugh whilst pointing at her. Misty felt like she was in high school all over again, the nerd that everyone picked on because she was different. She picks up her circular golden rimmed glass, cleaning off the lenses before pushing it back up on top of her nose just as a short bleach blond haired man hands the notebook to her, only to direct his attention to the group of laughing passerbys.
“Oi! Piss off!” He snaps before turning back to Misty with a small tilt of his head. “Are you alright, Miss?” The man’s voice was light but that wasn’t the most striking feature about this man were his pale blue eyes. They held Misty’s eyes and Misty found herself at a loss for words, just staring into this pale blue eyes.
“Miss?” The man says once more in a bit more concern.
“Oh yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry.” She says quickly. “Thank you for helping me.” Misty stuffs her notebook back into her bag.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice the scores in that notebook of yours. Did you write them yourself?” The man questions causing Misty to tense.
“Ah, yes but please excuse me. I must be heading off to work.” Misty says quickly as she hurries past the man. Again, leaving another man there to merely wonder.
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Misty was early for work, dressed in a short sleeved v-neck tee and black jeans with some simple black sneaker on. Misty had on her white waist apron, pencil and pad tucked away in the front pocket; this was probably her favorite part of the day. At this place she got to listen to music and other performs, no matter how tragic the performance was, Misty enjoyed nonetheless. She spent her nights behind the bar, mixing drinks and chatting with customers happily, every now and again there will be someone who drinks a little too much and will get kicked out but it was rare to have someone like that especially at Karaoke Box Mayfair bar.
It was bar not too far from the Imperial College London which gave Misty a bit of reassurance. Tonight, there was a special event a new band called Smile was going to be playing tonight and Misty was excited to say the least. She was behind the counter cleaning a glass when three men walked in carrying speakers. She wasn’t informed this was sort of rock band and to her surprise, two of the men looked quite familiar. A tall curly haired man, and a short blonde haired man the two she had no doubt seen at her college only hours ago.
Misty lets out a soft sigh as she watches the men curiously, cleaning glasses and setting them aside. It didn’t occur to her that they were early until she looked at the time.
“James!” She calls from the counter, “I think that band is here. Mind helping them?” Misty asks as she sets down the glass and placing the rag over her shoulder as her coworker, a short muscular man, hurries out to help the band members with the speakers. Misty watches them, wiping her hand on her towel as she prepares herself a beer, taking a sip of the bronze drink just as the blonde man slides onto one of the leather bar stools.
“Have we met before? You look quite familiar.” His pale blue eyes lock with Misty’s as if he’s searching her face for some sort of clue.
“You helped me in the hall, sir. Again, thank you.” Misty smiles to herself as she grabs a glass for the man. “Now what can I get you?” She asks.
“Oh! Music Girl, that’s who you are.” He hums as he drums his fingers on the marble counter in thought. “How about some white wine? I never did catch your name.”
“Of course, sir. The reason you didn’t catch my name was because I didn’t throw it.” Misty says playfully as she reaches upwards for a wine glass before placing it down gently on the table and fills it with a sweet white wine.
“Well, then can you politely throw your name to me?”
“Misty Sherwood. Nice to meet you.” Misty sets the wine glass on the marble counter before turning to take a sip of her own poison of choice.
“Roger Taylor, it’s nice to meet you too.” Roger takes a sip of his own drink just as the lanky man sits next to Roger.
“Excuse me, miss, but can I get some Guinness?”
“Oh, Misty, this is Brian May. He’s the guitarist for the band.”
“Misty?” Brian looks at Misty as slides a glass down the table to him.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” She laughs playfully before turning her attention to Brian, “so you’re the guitarist. I look forward to seeing you play.” If they drew in a decent sized crowd Misty would be satisfied with the assumption that they were a decent band, but as far as she was concerned they needed a little more flash. “What does that make you?” Misty leans over the counter whilst lacing her fingers together as she stares into Roger’s pale eyes. She couldn’t help but get lost in them.
“I’m the drummer, best drummer you’ll ever meet.” Roger responds in a cocky tone.
“Oh? So you say, but you have yet to prove it to me.” Misty rolls her eyes as she moves away from the counter to assist other customers. Misty didn’t stray too far from the boys; she was intrigued. Such unique personalities whilst they were complete opposites. People say opposites attract just like magnets.
“Well it’s nice to meet you.” Brian looks around the bar a bit noticing a forming crowd.
“It’s nice to meet you both properly.” Misty looks at Brian and Roger, a smile smirk turning up her cheek. “You boys bring in business, I hope your as good as this crowd makes you out to be.” Misty walks along the bar, rag in hand, as she wipes down the counter, beer handles, and glasses. She takes a quick sip of her beer as she slings the rag back over her shoulder.
“Pardon me, but we seem to be in a bit of trouble. You see we need a pianist, we all want to try something different from our original style. I was wondering if you could appoint us to one.” Brian drums his fingers on the side of his glass whilst seemingly looking straight through Misty as if he knew something about her already.
“I’m sorry, Brian-” “She’s a pianist, a competition winner! She’s pretty damn good if you ask me. Though she’ll never play for anyone anymore. No one knows quite why.” James, of course, he off all people would butt into a conversation such as this. James gives her a friendly pat on the shoulder with a playful smile and a thumbs up. “Yeah, thanks James.” She says in a whisper. She closes her eyes and curls her lips, holding in her anger. Misty was going to do whatever it took to get him back now.
“Oh, so you’re a pianist! No wonder you had so many score scribbled down in your notebook! Would you be willing to play for us? Just once?” Both Roger and Brian seemed very eager to see her play.
Misty rings her hands together nervously, she keeps her head down as she continues to prepare more drinks for other customers. She was contemplating whether or not she should, she had promised herself she’d stay away from music but that wasn’t doing her much good. Besides she was still playing piano in her spare time; it was over the years Misty had somehow developed a  very severe case of stage fright. Whenever she was on stage, she’d grow tense before beginnning to shake uncontrollably only to break into tears seconds later.
“I, uhm, I guess? It’ll only be us, right? No crowds?” She whispers, swallowing hard as she fills a mug full of guiness.
“Of course, It’ll only be us. We’ll provide the piano and the sheet music, all you have to do is show up.” Brian assures before looking at Roger, who had written the address and his number down on napkin.
“Just give me a call anytime. If you can’t find your way to the room, I’ll come and find you.” Roger winks and smirks. It was obvious this was seemingly Roger’s routine for Brian rolls his hands in the opposite direction before turning back to prop his head up on his head.
“Can you not?” He asks simply.
“What I’m just being nice! If she gets lost I can help her.” Roger says defensively.
“Thank you, I’ll be sure to contact you as soon as possible.” Misty interrupts the bruing argument with a smile and a short nod. “You two should probably get up there on stage your gig is starting.” Misty picks up the napkin and folds into a small triangle before putting into the back pocket of her jeans.
Brian and Roger quickly stood, both finishing their beers rather quickly before setting down their dues along with a small tip. Misty picks up the glasses and pulls the rag off her shoulder, watching the men begin their show whilst cleaning. She listened to every song happily, they really weren’t a bad band.