I headed out of Lyrics, the city bustling. It was ten at night, late for other parts of the country, but for the city, it was just waking up. I ended up securing a small ten-minute spot at Tate’s Boon, a new bar that just opened a couple months ago.
To say I was terrified of sitting onstage with a full house was the understatement of the century. This would be the biggest crowd I’d ever sung for.
I didn’t bother heading home to change. I didn’t have time anyway. The bar was a good fifteen-minute walk, and I was due onstage in thirty minutes. I wanted time to stay calm, to just… breathe.
Fifteen minutes later I found myself approaching the bar. There was a line outside, wrapping around the side of the building, and a bouncer standing in front of the door, letting in a couple people at a time. The bar was always packed on the weekends, and not just because it was a brand-new establishment, but because they had some incredible shows every weekend.
They hosted no-name artists, local bands, and I even heard they had one or two singers who actually made it big.
After getting the all-clear from the bouncer, allowed entrance, and told where to go, and after weaving my way through the already congested crowd, I found where I was supposed to be backstage.
The nerves started really climbing then, but I found a semi-quiet corner, leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and tried to breathe. And the first thing, the first person I thought about was Oliver. Instantly I felt calm, relaxed. I pictured him, the smile he’d give me that night, the way he made me feel. I felt the stress leave, and when I opened my eyes, I knew I had this. I could do this.
I regretted leaving him sleeping in that massive hotel room bed those three months ago. I hated I let my fear take control, my anxiety claiming me over the strong emotions I felt so profoundly for a virtual stranger. I knew I fucked up as I walked out the door. But what I felt for him was so foreign. I’d never felt that way about anyone before in my life.
Did I believe in love at first sight? I never had… not until I’d seen, spoken to, been with Oliver.
And that scared the ever-loving shit out of me.
I’d be lying if I said every time I went onstage, no matter what bar, what venue, I always hoped I’d see him out in the crowd, that he’d find me, that we’d find each other again.
I hoped like hell that would be my reality.
It was wishful thinking though. The city was huge, and when I’d been with him, he’d taken me back to a hotel room, leading me to believe he wasn’t a city resident, probably just passing through. Our paths would probably never cross again. And I couldn’t even explain how that made me feel, the sheer desperation I felt that I would never see him again.
Before I knew it, they were calling me up onstage. I exhaled slowly and headed out of the back room. I’d done this many times, sung my heart out, but never had I felt so nervous before. I knew it was because I’d be performing a song I’d written myself. One about the night with Oliver, the passion and emotions, the connection and yearning.
Of course, nobody knew that but me. No one would ever know that. It was the only song I’d ever written, inspiration striking me after my night with him. He was my muse, I’d come to realize, as the words spilled from me after being with him.
I stepped onto the stage and kept my focus on the floor, not wanting to see how full the club was, not wanting to let my nerves take over even more. But when I sat on the bench behind the piano, when I ran my fingers over the ivory, I did look up then. The lights were aimed at me, thankfully blinding me to the point I really couldn’t make out exactly how many people were here tonight. Was Oliver out there? Was he watching me, waiting until I was done to talk to me, to reconnect?
Or maybe my hopeful fantasies were just that… in my head. Maybe what I felt had only been one-sided. Maybe he’d seen me as a one-night stand and nothing more.
I closed my eyes and pushed those thoughts out of my head. They’d been a constant for three months. And now wasn’t the time or place for them.
I focused on the here and now, smoothed my fingers along the piano keys, and played my heart out. I hoped wherever Oliver was, he could hear my bleeding heart and know I wished we were still tangled in the sheets together.
3
Oliver
I finished up my work in the city and had the rest of the week to do what I desperately wanted to do.
And that was to find Adele.
I’d gotten to the conclusion that, come hell or high water, I’d find her during this week. There was no other option.
I left my things in the hotel room that would be home for the next seven days and immediately started my search. It was Saturday night, and I’d already been to three clubs so far. None of them had brought me any closer to her.
I was at the fourth establishment, my ass on a bar stool as I nursed a beer. I pulled up my phone and looked at the list I’d jotted down of bars and clubs in the city. First, I was staying within a ten-mile radius of where I’d first seen her. I’d go to every bar, every club in that area. I didn’t know if I’d find out anything about her, but I had nothing else to lose at this point.
After that, I’d extend my search, asking local businesses and not just keeping to the nightlife establishments. I was fucking desperate.
I brought my bottle up and finished off the now lukewarm beer.
“Another one?” the bartender asked as he dried his hands on a rag and promptly tossed it over his shoulder so the material hung there, ready to be used again.
I shook my head and pulled out my wallet from my back pocket, fishing out a five and setting it on the counter. “I’m good, man. Thanks.” He nodded and took the five. “Keep the change.” He gave me a grateful smile and tipped his head in my direction.