It was blatantly obvious The Picket Fence wasn't your typical small, upcoming local band. When we arrived at the venue we were told there were no tickets available for purchase at the door.
"But we have to get in there," I demanded, for no particular reason other than, one: it was Friday night and I'd actually put on pants in preparation for socialising. And two: I didn't appreciate the security guard's bad attitude.
"Sorry," he smiled smugly, "You shoulda bought tickets online last week like all the other fangirls... and fanboys."
Olivia grabbed my arm. "Let's just go to a club," she said. "Shots and dancing, it will be fun!" Her short black dress would have been more appropriate for a night club but I wasn't giving up without a fight. I was stubborn like that.
"Please... it's my brother's band. I've driven home from university for the weekend and I want to surprise him by coming to his show," I lied through my teeth to the security guard. He let out a soft chuckle and for a moment, I thought he was going to let us in.
"That's a really touching story, but they're an all girl band. If you don't have a ticket, you're not getting in." He gestured to the group of people behind us in the cue, "Next."
I was just beginning to consider Olivia's plan of abandoning the gig and going to a club instead when I spotted Grunge's old bandmate, Wally, standing in front of the other entrance. He came into the store from time to time and luckily for me, he thought I was both sassy and adorable.
"Wally," I waved, jumping a little so he'd be able to see my face. He smiled when he saw me and I took Olivia's arm, dragging her through the crowd to other entrance.
"I hope Grunge hasn't been working you too hard."
"Not at all," I smiled sweetly at the robust man. No sass tonight, I was in too much of a rush to get inside. "I'm sorry to be a pest, it's just The Picket Fence is Olivia's favourite band and we had a mix up with the tickets... do you think you can get us in?"
Wally chuckled, his big belly jumping softly in the process, "How can I say no to you?" He stamped both of our hands and we finally passed the magic threshold into the bar where we were apparently going to get treated to a show by not just a girl band, but a girl band that managed to sell out an entire venue.
"How great is this?" I said to Olivia when we finally managed to find a spot to stand. There were so many people crammed into the small space, it was impossible not to breathe in the sweat of everyone around us. What's a bit of body odour between strangers, hey?
"This is," Olivia's face was twisted with disgust. "Great," she finished, forcing a grin that could almost make me believe that she wasn't lying her ass off. That's my girl.
"Tell you what," I leaned over, shouting above the pre-show music. "I won't even get mad if you ditch me after this to go to Oliver's. Although, you'll probably want to shower before you jump his bones."
"No need," she shook her head. "He's meeting us here."
"He won't be able to get in," I yelled back just as the music jumped to a new level of volume. The show was about to start.
"What?"
"He. Won't. Be. Able. To. Get. In. Without. A. Ticket," I tried to annunciate best I could but the sound was too heavy in the small space. Olivia just shrugged. Forget it, we'd worry about that later.
Two songs in, I could see why The Picket Fence had sold out the venue. All three girls were extremely talented and their stage presence - excuse the pun - rocked. They were perhaps a touch too indie for my personal taste but there was no doubting their talent.
The red-headed singer (whose name I think was Violet) announced they'd be taking a five minute interlude which I suspected was at the request of the venue. There were so many people crammed into the tiny space that getting to the bar throughout the show was almost impossible and there'd already been two people who had passed out from dehydration.
Olivia and I did paper-scissors-rock to decide which one of us would brave the bar. I won (probably for the first time ever) and she disappeared through the sweaty crowd to get our drinks. I moved my hair over the left side of my shoulder and waved my hands over my face at a failed attempt for some air. It was so hot in here.
"Enjoying the show?"
The raspy voice projected right into my right ear, startling me even though the words were softly spoken. I could feel fingertips resting gently on my shoulder and in defiance of the humid bar, goosebumps formed on my skin.
"I am," I smiled, turning around to face the boy. "Probably not as much as you are," I laughed, referring to how gorgeous the band was.
An amused smile crossed Harry's lips. "I'm here for strictly professional reasons, Stella. As a general rule, I try not to mix business with pleasure."
Determined not to melt into a vacuous mess like I did the last time we spoke, I didn't give myself a second to linger on the infatuating way pleasure rolled off of his tongue. "That sounds like an extremely boring rule to me."
He leaned in closer, placing a hand firmly on the side of my waist before speaking against my ear, "I'm sure to make up for it when I'm not working."
Harry removed his hand from my waist when Olivia returned with our drinks. I pretended to take a sip of mine, using the glass to hide the release of my shaky breath. I didn't know if it was because he was older or had an accent or because he was so undeniably charming, but Harry's presence had great affect on me - and I wasn't sure if I liked it.
"Oliver texted me. He's just going to pick me up out the front after the show," my friend said loudly before leaning in and speaking more quietly. "And who on earth is Mr Rockstar standing next to you?"
Over the sound of The Picket Fence taking the stage again, I introduced Olivia and Harry to one another. I expected him to disappear again once the girls began performing the last of their songs, but he didn't. He stood next to me the entire time until after the show when he slipped through the crowd, presumably to meet the band.
"They were great!" Olivia gushed when we stepped out into the cooler night air. It provided much needed relief after standing in the clammy bar for the last two and a half hours. "We should totally start a band!"
"Totally," I shook my head. "Because what the world really needs is a talentless, tone-deaf girl duet who can't play instruments," I laughed. "Actually, they have a genre for that. They call it rap."
"What about Nicki Minaj? You like her. Is she talentless and tone-deaf?" Olivia countered, her eyes scanning the road for a shiny, expensive rich-boy car.
"Nicki Minaj is talented, so she is a clear exception to the rule."
Before Olivia could answer, Harry waltzed into the space between us. That sounds like purely an expression but his long legs moved so fluently, it almost resembled dancing more than walking.
"I didn't think you were the kind of girl who played by the rules." I guessed he'd been listening to our conversation. His green eyes radiated into mine and I felt myself swallow a growing lump in my throat.
"Aren't you a little old to be coming to bars like this?" I folded my arms across my chest, looking up at the tall boy like I wasn't the slightest bit intimidated.
"Probably," he mused. "But if I show my Senior Citizens card at the bar, they give me a discount on my drinks."
He winked, and I laughed. I didn't want to, but I did. He was impossibly charming, just like Luke. Both boys were overly confident too; Harry's confidence was more subtle though. And for all of their differences, they did have one thing in common: they were both impossible not to like.
"That's my ride," Olivia pointed to the shiny, red Mercedes parked across the street. I guessed Oliver's dad was keeping the Maserati for himself tonight. "Enjoy the rest of your evening," she said with a grin.
Without saying anything else to Harry, I started walking towards the taxi-bay. His long legs didn't take long to catch up. "Are you catching a cab alone?"
"Yes," I said, stopping next to the parked taxi and giving the driver a small wave.
"My car," he began with a frown, "is parked right across the road. Let me drive you home instead."
"As a general rule, I try not to take car rides with strangers," I mocked in his tone. Thankfully, he laughed rather than taking offence.
"That sounds like a terribly sensible rule," he smiled. His printed silk shirt was barely buttoned up and the streetlights aided in lighting up the tattoos across his chest. I managed to spot two inked birds without letting my eyes linger for too long.
He opened the taxi door before I could. "Goodnight Harry," I told him, sliding into the car before he closed the door again.
The taxi drove away and I stole one last glance at the tall boy who blended into the night like a beautiful street light.