he sighs, looking across the bar and seeing another girl, fine black hair tightly pulled into a bun, laughing and smiling with her unremarkable friends. he chuckles, bringing the tumbler to his lips, thinking that he wouldn't be so out of place by her side, the closely-trimmed gold beard the only thing making him stand-out from al the other bodies in jackets and polished shoes.
she bobs her head with a laugh, bright red lips painted to match her stylish coat, and tangles herself in his heartstrings. he knocks another one back, trying to forget her before the first "hello," imagined conversations coming to a standstill after an awkward pause. distracted by a falling glass, he stares at the melting ice in his own, and idly wonders, however briefly, if there will be a band tonight.
Do you like these guys? he would ask.
Have you seen them before? he would stumble, turning red to learn they'd only just gotten together, a first show for a first flirtation.
Hey, and he would stumble. the word always gave him problems. maybe because it was always the one thing he could probably get away with saying before the pressures of conversation would fall heavy upon his shoulders.
he takes a drink, just in time to see a group of guys, tattooed and unshaven pushing around chairs, making room for a bass drum and snare. and just like last week, he sits on the wobbly stool, while she joins the crowd beginning to form, mingling with the other faceless bodies, one last smile lingering in his eyes like a honeyed aftertaste.
Hey.
Do you like these guys?
So what do you usually listen to? Really? That's cool, so do I...
another drink passes his silent lips. third one of the night. and his fourth drink, too.
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