We reach the place, and I can’t believe it. Considering how big this band is, they’re performing in what looks like a hole in the wall dive bar. Casey and I beam at each other on the way in. It feels so much like home it hurts, but it’s still got that exotic tinge to it.
There’s reddish lighting in the place, casting a dark glow on everything around us, and there are already a ton of people filing in.
“Christ, I thought we were here early!” Casey says, running a hand through her hair nervously as we make our way as close to the front as we can. I can still feel the light high from the cupcake — Casey was right, the stuff they give tourists isn’t the strongest in the world, but it’s got me in a good place, and the crowd doesn’t make me nearly as nervous as it would any other time.
“For a band like these guys?” I laugh, helping her muscle past a group of people on our way up. “I’m surprised there’s any standing room left!”
As the minutes wear on, I’m proven right. We’re still a few rows of people from the front, but by the time the doors close, the place is absolutely packed, and I’m pretty sure I hear some unlucky people getting told that there isn’t enough room for them.
The informality of this place reminds me of home. I hear someone with a microphone out of sight saying something in Dutch, but I do recognize the name of the band when it’s announced in a thick accent: “The Seldom Strangers!”
The crowd goes wild, myself included. I left my coat at the door, and even as cold as the winter night is outside, it’s already feeling warm in here as I jump up and down with the crowd and the band makes its way to the front.
And when the lead singer steps up to the front of the stage, I feel my heart leap in my chest.
Now, I’ve seen pictures of Jack Delaney. His albums usually don’t have his face on them, but I’ve got a vinyl of their first release with the whole band on it, and I knew from that moment that he’s hot. But that’s nothing like seeing him up close.
He’s a towering man, easily 6’3”, and every inch of that masculine body is rippling with muscle. He’s got on tight jeans, black Oxfords, and a snug-fitting faded plaid flannel. His square glasses outline a piercing gaze, accented by a strong jaw covered in sexy stubble. He looks like he just came back from a night out on the town, but somehow, the look makes him all the more irresistible.
And damn it, he knows it.
“Thanks for coming out here, ladies and gentlemen,” he says, smiling into the microphone with that easy British accent, his nonchalant demeanor effortless as he glances around at the crowd. “I guess word got out we were in town? I can’t tell.”
His joke is met with a roaring cheer, female voices drowning out everything, and he raises his eyebrows in feigned surprise, glancing back at the rest of the band.
“Well well! Suppose we should put on a show or something, don’t you think? Is that what you’re here for? I can’t tell!” The crowd roars again, and with a flick of his hand, Jack starts off the first song as the drummer launches into the music.
Immediately, I start dancing to the music with the rest of the crowd, and soon the whole bar is a sea of energy, everyone dancing to the lighthearted and fast-paced rhythm. I’ve never felt so alive! Jack’s voice is like an angel’s, and I can see by the cocky smile on his face and the easy way he carries himself on stage that he was born to do this. And he knows it.
He commands the stage like a master, despite being only a little older than me. As he sings, hitt
ing a wider range of highs and lows than I’ve ever heard in person, the crowd eats up every second of it.
None of them more than me.
There’s something about Jack that makes me feel...energized. In a way I’ve never felt at concerts before, or anywhere. The way his body moves, the way he makes eye contact with the audience members, that confident smile radiating while he sings. And there’s that artistic spark to his performance that tells the world how much of his soul is in what he does.
It’s breathtaking. I feel my heart pounding, even as my high is wearing off — he keeps me going with just as much euphoria. Not even Casey is as into the band as I am, and that’s saying something, because she’s starry-eyed.
As Jack’s eyes pass through the audience, those gorgeous baby-blue eyes lock with mine for a moment, and I see his smile split into a shining grin. My heart jumps as if I’d been struck by lightning, and I stop dancing, grinning like an idiot while standing there among everyone.
“Hey, you okay?” Casey asks, laughing and giving me a shake. I blink and nod absently.
“Yeah — he looked at me, Casey!”
“Oh my god, you gigantic fangirl,” Casey laughs, and we jump right back into what’s quickly becoming the most exciting night of my life.
The afterparty on the rooftop takes the night to a whole new level. There’s smoke hanging in the air, wafting out into the cool breeze above, but the heat of all the people down here keeps most of the cold out as we make our way through the crowds.
“I cannot believe we got to be so close to all that!” I gushed to Casey.
“I know right? And this is only the first day! Oh my god, this was so worth it.”
There are people dancing all around us, and there’s throbbing club music instead of the lively rock Jack and his band were playing earlier. There are some drinking games happening, the smell of weed in the air, and nobody around who isn’t having a hell of a good time, by the looks of it.
“Hey,” comes a voice from our right, and we look over to see a decent-looking local checking out Casey with a smile on his face. “Wanna dance?” he asks her, and she looks at me with sparkling eyes before I give her a wink and wave her off.
“Catch you later, Jess!” she chimes before I’m left alone, a faint smile on my face. Damn. I’d been hoping to stick together to at least scope out the crowd before this happened. But that’s usually how things go down between me and Casey. She get scooped up by some hot guy, and I end up fishing for drinks at the bar. But hey, friend’s gotta do what a friend’s gotta do, right?