It's been three days since that impeccably disastrous meeting Matteo and I had. I still think about it. When I wake up in the morning, reading, playing the guitar, or even now when I'm walking to band practice.
The only time I've seen him was in philosophy classes and even then he made the effort to avoid me or send deathly glares to me.
Sometimes though I find him starting my way in a less hostile way— I ignore it though.
All the things that were said before were either painful or painfully true. With a clear balance on who said the right things, it's still all fairly bothering. Every time my mind wanders to that parking lot the last thing I would see is him with his head hanging low like some type of guilt rook over him.
I don't believe it and neither will I after a hundred years.
He made it very clear that the only reason he doesn't want me to be friends with Jocelyn is that he can't stand me. He just wants all the benefits of that for himself. A selfish guy who knows nothing but living in a pool of his own self-loathing.
However, a part of me wished he was better.
Reading his word for our philosophy work gave me a glimpse inside his mind. It must be a wonderful place if he can elaborate on it like that on paper. I saw its beauty for a little, the passion in those words. I'd like to believe he only got lost in the depths of his mentality; lost enough to depict a dark and brooding man on the outside.
People like him really makes you want to believe they aren't like that. It begs to question the reason why they're so dark and negative. With all the literary classics I've read, most of their reasons we're their upbringing.
The little scolding from their fathers when they couldn't act like a man. Scarring torture to prove masculinity in an ethically undiverse society where they think a man should not cry or a man should be able to kill with his bare hands. Some other reasonings were living in a big family or being so rich that the pressure is immense.
Whatever it may be for him then I'm obliged to pity him. A man with a heart that cold is a man who's seen the battlefield— or just an utter joke.
Now beside him, another problem I have is with another guy (most of my problems are). Cade and I exchanged a few messages last night with his rather dramatic implication of 'Jocelyn is a monster, run away from her' and I was just baffled. I thought he would be much calmer and cooler than I was considering he's probably dealt with more stuff like this than I have, but I was proven wrong; very quickly.
He ranted on and on about how I should stay away from this girl and blah, blah, blah.
Some points he made were fairly reasonable but nothing too original. I've considered taking his advice but my guilt of saying no took over me again as I glanced over to the paper where her number was.
Ah, college isn't it. Just a sequel to high school torture.
I have to say though, I've never been in such a ruckus until I went to that damn frat party. I guess I can see why some people would enjoy it but definitely not me.
Thank God the band hasn't got anything for that house.
Speaking of, Jackson told me he'd sent in the details and so I waited. From the day he told me 'til this morning when I was drinking my iced coffee. I received nothing so I thought I should just come and have a look.
Nevertheless, I think I've got a clue of what this might be about, remembering the neighbors I've met recently.
"Jackson, you never texted me, I was still waiting until this morning, " I said as I burst through the doors with a faint smile on my lips. Exactly how I greet everyone.
"Oh, shit sorry dude, I totally forgot. We just have an audition today that's all. I needed you to help out because he plays guitar, you do and I don't. Are you good to be a judge?" He said looking up from his clipboard while assessing the stage.
On it was the band and another guy who I could only tell is the auditionaire because I haven't seen him around here before.
He was on one knee, tuning a guitar while everyone else around him set up, and since he faced away from me I could really tell who he is.
"Sure, who've we got?" I said while placing my bag down on the front row seat next to Jackson.
"This dude is a sophomore, he's supposed to be in your year but he took a gap yearr after his freshman, " he replied, scribbling something down, "His name is Henry something-cool-sounding-last-name." Jackson frowned not looking the least interested in remembering the name but I knew.
I crossed my arms while I look at the guy with amusement. With his crimson flannel over a white hoodie and dark jeans. I look at him with much amusement, remembering the thing I've heard about him— from his own parents.
"Fitzgerald. Henry Fitzgerald, " I mumbled, remembering exactly the way his father said it.
"You know the guy?" Jackson asked curiously, raising a brow.
"No, " I said, "his parents are my parents' neighbor. From what I was told he could actually be a really good asset."
"Well, let's find out, " he smiled, "Henry, you ready my man?"
The guy slowly stands, slinging his guitar around his shoulder, ready to perform. As he settles himself in front of the mic his eyes meet mine.
Deep brown eyes that compliment his flawless chocolate tinted skin. He's tall, probably towering taller than me even when he gets off the stage. His fashion is immaculate and the bright smile in his face sold me already. He really deserves all the praise he got from his parents. Just at the way, he stands with himself shows manners and respectfulness.
At least someone can bring some sunshine to a gloomy week.
"Yup, ready when you are, " he answered. His voice is deep but clean. He could surely lead a room with that.
Jackson signals to the band and the count in begins.
To my surprise, he begins playing a ballad, a song I absolutely adore from FINNEAS. With it's envying guitar riffs to its beats, this song should be a pleasure to hear and so far it is.
Let's fall in love for the night and forget in the morning.
Play me a song that you like you can bet I know every line.
I'm the boy that your boy hope that you would avoid, don't waste your eyes on jealous guys fuck that noise.
I know better than to call you mine.
As the beats begin I find myself highly entranced by the way this guy performs.
The way his body sways as he strums the guitar with all his might. His lips playing every word like a chant; purring me into his song. Every beat is on point and not one note is astray. His eyes light up as he sings and I see the passion in them. How he closes his eyes when he sings the lyrical genius and how his face scrunches to sing the harsh notes. I see music running through his veins. I see them so clearly that I had grazed over the fact that I was smiling while enjoying his performance.
"He's a fucking miracle," Jackson said in awe and when I looked at him, I found his eyes focused and jaw on the floor. I laugh knowing that he and I had the same idea.
There is absolutely no reason for me to believe that he won't get in. He could be the power we need. With his clear tone voice, perfect technique, he can definitely take this band to a whole next level.
By the end of the song, he takes a little bow and then puts the guitar down.
Jackson and I exchanged looks of approval as Henry jumped down from the stage, fixing his hair on the way to us.
"So?" He smiled, "Is it good enough?"
I opened my mouth to say something but was beaten to it by a rather flabbergasted Jackson,
"Dude are you insane? I've never seen a performance like that ever since last year! That was fire. I mean you could totally rock it, you could get us gigs too, " he gushed and I shook my head.
I can tell by the way Henry fiddled with his fingers that he was very flattered, but I guess he still needed something from me by the way his expectant eyes looked.
"Oh, yeah, hi, I'm Evangeline, Evie would be fine too, " I said while reaching out and he chuckles.
"Henry, " he accepted my hand and the first thing I noticed was his grip, then the callouses on his fingers from years of guitar.
"I agree with Jackson, that was a really good performance. Your dad was definitely—"
"You know my dad?" He questioned with amusement and I froze.
Seriously? They didn't even tell him? This is embarrassing.
"Uh, y—yeah. We're neighbors. Like in Malibu?" I laughed nervously.
"Oh! You must be the Collins neighbor my mom talked about. Sorry, I'm not really great with names." He smiled and I realized that it would be quite a chore to be angry with such an adorable face like his.
"Well, I don't think we even need to think about it, " Jackson interrupted. "You're in!"
Henry cheers for a second before high-fiving Jackson who seemed very proud of his decision.
They turn to me and both guys cheered low children at Christmas receiving their stocking gifts. I roll my eyes at them before smiling at such a happy group.
"Congrats, " I said, "Rehearsals are every Tuesday and Thursday without gigs. We do triples when we have one, "
"Got it, " Henry answered clapping his big hands with much excitement.
"Hey, Evie, mind helping the new guy with our latest performances. Catch him up you know?"
"Sure, I don't mind." I smiled and Henry did too.
With that, we turn to the stage and spent the rest of the practice talking about songs and the '90s. Practicing performances we knew we had to and speaking about those. We got sucked into conversations like it was just us in the rooms and nothing personal was even said. For that one moment, we were just two strangers interested in each other's preferences; nothing personal.
...Then he spoke about literature and my heart fluttered.
END OF PART 1