Peach and Lime Daiquiri

“Jules, can you cover for me for a couple of hours?” my co-worker Clare asked me, “My little brother broke his arm, I need to go and take him to hospital.”

“Oh my god, of course I can cover for you,” I smiled, my shift was almost over, but surprisingly, I didn’t want to go home. I enjoyed my job as a bar maid.

Clare breathed a sigh of relief and practically ripped off her apron before making a mad
dash towards the door.

People buzzed around the bar, calling out their orders in hopes that one of the three bar staff on duty would hear them.

I got to work; I loved talking to the customers and having a bit of friendly banter or engaging in some casual flirting. Working at a bar in the centre of Chicago meant that no two nights were ever the same.

That particular night, the bar was quite full, seeing as it was Friday. At around 2am, the evening rush began to calm and only a few people were dotted around the large room.

As I wiped up some spilled beer, making sure there was no trace of the potentially sticky liquid left on the dark wood of the bar; I heard a fairly deep, yet highly alluring voice sound.

“Can I get a peach and lime daiquiri please?” slight embarrassment laced his words.

“For your girlfriend?” I asked as I mixed the necessary spirits and fruits together.

“No, it’s for me actually,” he mumbled. He looked up at me and his enticing brown eyes caught me off guard, causing to have to take a few seconds to regain my composure before I could form a coherent response.

“A little bit girly isn’t it?” I smirked, teasing him slightly.

“I know, my friends kill me for it. But hey, it’s an awesome drink.” He took a long sip after I
handed him the glass filled with the colourful liquid. I couldn’t contain a smile as he unashamedly drank the beverage.

“Jon,” he held out his hand.

I shook his hand which was surprisingly warm and soft “Jules,” I replied. Suddenly, I missed the warmth when he took his hand from mine.

“So what are you doing here in Chicago?” I queried, “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Well, I’m originally from Chicago, but for the last few years I’ve been doing a lot of travelling. So I haven’t been around good ole Chi-Town much.” He smiled that killer smile of his.

“Oh, okay then,” I answered, immediately intrigued as to what he did. “Another?” I suggested, cocking my head in the direction of his almost empty glass.

He checked his watch and his face promptly fell. “Actually, I have to go.” He drank the last few drops of the drink before placing the glass down on the bar with a thud.

“Do you have to go?” I asked, then mentally cursing myself for sounding so desperate.

“Unfortunately, yeah, I do,” he pulled on his grey hoodie. “It was nice to meet you Jules, hopefully I’ll see you again.” He smiled before rushing out of the door and into the Chicago night.

Over the coming weeks, Jon came in near enough every night and we would chat while he had drinks. Well, one drink, the same one every time. A peach and lime daiquiri.

One Thursday, business was running as usual and it was early on in my shift. I went into the store room to grab some napkins and coasters for the bar when Clare called me.

“Jules, Jules, come quick!” she called out to me.

Sensing the urgency in her tone, I dashed up the stairs, only to see a grin stretching across her face.

“Guess what?!” she asked me, looking as though she was going to burst from joy.

“What?” her excitement transferring to me.

“Y’know that Jon guy that’s been hanging around here every night for the past few weeks?”

My heart fluttered at the mention of his name. Gaining composure, I nodded quickly and vigorously.

“Well, he just dropped this off for you.” She handed me a white envelope.

I held it in my hands for a moment, frozen. My hands ghosted over the pristine white of the envelope, taking it in. Suddenly, Clare’s shrill call broke into my deep thoughts.

“For God’s sake Jules – open it!” she urged.

I laughed at her impatience as I tore open the envelope.

A ticket, something laminated and a note fell of the white paper onto the polished surface of
the bar.

Take this ticket and go to the Congress Theatre tonight.

p.s. the pass will get you backstage, but you have to go around to the side of the building…

And he followed this with brief instructions on how to enter the building via the back entrance.

I smiled hopefully at Clare, hoping she’d get my drift.

“Go, just go!” she exclaimed, pushing me in the direction of the door. I rushed out of the door, exhilaration and adrenalin pumping through my veins.

When I arrived at the venue, there was a line formed mostly by adolescent girls although there were a few guys dotted throughout.

I looked at the front of the building, in black wonky capital letters it simply said;

PANIC AT THE DISCO
DOORS: 6 30

Promptly, I looked down at my watch and saw it was 6:15. Walking swiftly, I joined the end of the queue, barely able to control my excitement.

About 25 minutes later, I was in the warm surroundings of the venue. The body heat that was radiating from the people around was enough to rid me of the slight chill I’d gained from standing out in the cold.

The masses of people gathered in front of the stage, I followed suit and surprisingly I wasn’t too far from the front. But, not being the tallest person around, I still couldn’t see – it also didn’t help that there was a guy in front of me who was at least 6 foot tall standing in front of me. I decided to stick it out, I had a prime spot and I was not going to give it up.

Then the wait for the show began. I passed the time by thinking of Jon – how incredibly cliché, I know.

Within due course, five young men took to the stage, Jon being the only one I recognised.

They picked up (or sat behind, in the drummer and keyboardists case) their instruments and launched into their first song.

Their music was easy to listen to, not to mention insanely catchy! I loved it – the show flew by, much to my dismay.

“This is Northern Downpour,” the slim, brown haired guitarist said into the microphone.

The calm, acoustic song began, and people began swaying and reaching for their mobile phones and lighters. The heat in the pit was immense; it was beginning to get more and more difficult to breathe, so I pushed myself to the back of the crowd.

Just as my new favourite song of Panic’s came to a close I was finally at the back, looking out across the venue, my eyes surveyed the thousands of fans.

“This is going to be our last song and it’s a love song, so I want to see a lot of love in the crowd – hugs, peace signs and awesome stuff like that,” the guitarist, called Ryan announced. This gained many a high pitched scream from the females (and maybe even some of the males) in the audience.

I couldn’t see the stage for the life of me, so I stood on what looked like an unused amp, or crate. I wasn’t too sure, the darkness impaired my vision.

“That’s better,” I mumbled to myself, I had a clear view of the stage.

Unintentionally, my gaze crept over to the right side of the stage – Jon’s side. I was entranced when he played, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

I watched him as his eyes surveyed the crowd, his gaze fell on me. I waved my arms at him like a mad woman – to this he laughed.

Throughout the remainder of the song, Jon and I kept our gazes locked, neither of us taking our eyes off each other for a moment.

Once the song had ended and the guys exited the stage, slowly but surely, the crowd began to filter out onto the cold Chicago streets.

I pulled the now crumpled piece of paper from my pocket and read Jon’s surprisingly neatly printed instructions on how to find the backstage area.

Thanks to the very clear instructions, I got to the backstage gate in no time. I fished around in my jacket pocket trying to find the backstage pass which would grant me access to Jon.

My fingers brushed over the familiar, cool plastic and I pulled out the pass.
Now, the only things between me and the backstage were a tall chain link fence and a security guard. Through said fence, I could see a tour bus, which I guessed belonged to Panic.

As I stood there, Jon came into view, instantly my face brightened and a smile attached itself to my lips. I was poised to call his name, when I realised he had a pretty blonde haired girl no his arm. I watched them interact – they seemed awfully comfortable in each other’s company, too comfortable. She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek before giggling and running off toward the door they’d exited through only moments before.

Feeling utterly disheartened, I walked away from the backstage area. I slid the pass into my pocket, as I did so; the only sounds I could hear were the lonely echoes of my footsteps.

“Jules!” I heard Jon shout as I rounded the corner, turning out of his sight. Ignoring his relentless calls, I carried on walking until I felt a pair of hands clamp onto my shoulders, bringing me to a halt.

“Jules, where are you going?” Jon asked, as he doubled over slightly, breathing heavily.

“Home.” I stated shortly. Not really wanting to listen to his excuses.

“Home?” he repeated, “why?”

“I thought you liked me Jon, and then I see you with that blonde girl…” I ranted, throwing my arms around suggestively.

“Whoa, the blonde girl,” he chuckled, “is my cousin, Anna.”

Immediately, the anger melted away, like a candle being blown out and I felt stupid.

“Oh,” was all I managed to force out. “I’m so sorry Jon, I didn’t mean to get annoyed, but it’s just that when I saw you with Anna. I jumped to conclusions.” I apologised, still feeling an idiot.

Jon put a finger to my lips to cease my inane ramblings.

He chuckled as he said, “Don’t worry Jules, really.”

As he still had his fingers over my lips, I shot him an apologetic look which he acknowledged with a curt nod.

He leaned down and kissed my cheek before saying, “for the record, I do like you.” A faint blush stained his cheeks.

“I like you too,” I said shyly. As we stood there we lapsed into a shy silence, “this is like high school again,” I smirked.

“Yeah, it is. Do you want to for a drink?” he asked, rather shyly.

“I would love to,” I grinned, as we began walking, I swung my arms by my side.

We began talking about random things, as we reached the end of the road, Jon’s hand brushed slightly against my own. I thought nothing of it, but after a moment’s hesitation he grabbed my hand and softly held it in his own.

He looked down at me, slight worry filling his deep brown eyes. I smiled giving him the approval he needed.

Once he registered the approval, he began swinging our hands as we walked; laughing as we did so. I felt as though I was in a child-like, carefree state. The happiness and glee engulfed me, so much so that I started to skip ahead of Jon.

He laughed at my antics, his laugh was almost like music, it was the type of laugh that once you hear you can’t help but laugh too. It was utterly infectious.

We walked aimlessly for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the feeling of Jon’s hand in mine. It felt so natural, so right – like that was the way it was meant to be. It actually scared me a bit, the immense strength of the feelings I felt for Jon were new to me. I’d never felt that way about anyone before.

As we wandered through the streets, I didn’t really pay attention to where we were going.
But the familiarity of a certain street jumped out at me.

The glow from the neon blue lights of the sign tinted our skin an icy shade. It was the bar that I worked in; we’d walked there without even realising it.

Surprisingly the bar was virtually empty. The only person I could see inside was Clare. As soon as she looked up, a grin stretched across her face.

“Hey guys,” she said as we approached the bar. “What’ll it be?”

“Two peach and lime daiquiris please.” I smiled at her, and then at Jon.

We both took a seat at the bar as Clare mixed the drinks.

“Where’s the rest of the band?” she queried as she handed us our cocktails.

“Oh shit. I didn’t tell them where I was going! Excuse me ladies,” he whipped his phone out of his pocket as he made his way outside. I faintly heard him greet someone called ‘Spence’ before the door shut.

As soon as we heard the sharp click of the door closing, Clare’s inevitable interrogation began.

“How’s it going? He looks hot. Has he asked you out yet? You guys look so cute together.
Do you love him? Ooh, can I be your bridesmaid at your wedding? Can I be your first child’s godmother? Can i-”

“Whoa calm down there Miss Brooks! We haven’t even been on a date yet!” I reminded.

“I know, but you totally love him don’t you?” she grinned at me. I could feel a blush rise up my neck, slowly covering the whole of my face, tinting my skin a rosy pink.

“I knew it!” she cheered triumphantly.

“I didn’t even say anything!” I protested.

“Yeah, but-” she got cut off as Jon re-entered the bar.

He walked over and sat down in the seat he’d been occupying only moments earlier.

“The guys are coming down here,” he said brightly as he sipped on his drink.

“Grool,” Clare and I said at the same time, before bursting out into uncontrollable laughter. We always quoted Mean Girls ay any given opportunity – and that moment just happened to be one of them. Jon looked at us as though we were both lunatics, raising his eyebrows in surprise at our outburst.

“Are you sure that it’s okay?” he asked, slight worry in his smooth voice.

“It’s absolutely fine – it’s not like there’s anyone here,” I gestured around at the empty bar. It was a Wednesday night which meant the bar was almost empty all night and that day was no exception.

Around an hour later Jon, Clare, Brendon, Ryan, Spencer and I all sat in a booth in the bar playing ‘I Never.’ In case you’ve never come across the game before, everyone in the group takes it in turns to say something they’ve never down before. It can be as crazy as you want, and if anyone in the group has done it, they take a sip of their drink. That is basically it, sounds very boring, but once everyone has a few drinks in them – it is one of the best games ever!

So it was Brendon’s turn and everyone’s eyes rested on him. His glass had the least drink in it of anyone’s – that boy had done a lot of crazy shit in his time.

“I’ve never…had a serious relationship,” he said shyly, looking over at Clare with whom he’d been getting friendly all night.

Before I could even comprehend my actions, I was taking a gulp from my glass. Jon shot me a questioning look, but I chose to ignore it.

The rest of the night passed by too quickly, rarely a moment passed when the whole group weren’t erupting with laughter.

At the end of the night (or should I say the beginning of the morning) Jon and I were the only two left at the bar. Gradually everyone had left with their respective partners, and a very drunk Brendon left with an equally intoxicated Clare.

I was reluctant to let them leave together in the state that they were in, but Spencer promised me he would make sure they got back to their hotel safely.

Jon and I sat together quietly. He looked like he had something on his mind. I could tell he wanted to say something, but I didn’t want to push him, so I let him be.

“Jules, y’know earlier you said you’d never had a serious relationship? Is that true?”

“Yep,” I replied quietly, hoping that this fact wouldn’t deter Jon from going out with me.

“Oh…” he muttered.

I don’t know why but I felt the need to explain myself. Adjusting the denim skirt I was wearing, I shifted my position so I was looking directly at Jon.

“It’s just that I have a hard time trusting people,” I began, “every guy I’ve ever been out with has cheated on me. Or if he hasn’t cheated on me, he’s made me fall in love with him, only for him to break up with me. I’m always afraid I’m going to get hurt.”

He smiled sadly at me before taking my hand in his own.

“I know we haven’t even been on a date yet, but I just want you to know that I will never hurt you.” He grazed the pad of his thumb over my cheek before taking my face in his hands and kissing me softly on the lips.

“Oh crap!” I exclaimed, looking down at my blouse which was now covered in espresso.
Quickly I removed the blouse before running into Jon’s room and putting on one of his t-shirts.

I had been staying at his apartment for a couple of weeks. I wasn’t officially moved in yet seeing as I hadn’t sold my apartment. We’d only been going out for three months and we were moving pretty fast, but we didn’t care.

“Jon, is there anything you want me to wash? I’m doing some laundry.” I asked the brown haired man.

“Yeah, could you wash my jeans please?” he asked shooting me adorable puppy dog eyes that I didn’t have a chance of refusing – even if I wanted to.

“These ones?” I asked picking up a pair of dark denim jeans off of the dark wood flooring.

“Yep, check the pockets, there’s probably some stuff in there.” He called out to me.
I began rifling through the pockets taking out anything that happened to inhabit them, tissues, picks, loose change. I put my hand into the last pocket and felt a box.

Pulling it out, my breath hitched in my throat.

“Jon what’s this?” I turned around to show him the box, but he was standing right behind me. He took the box from my hand and opened it, revealing a simple silver band.

He was proposing.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready for marriage. Correction, I wasn’t ready for marriage. Sure, I felt a lot for Jon, but we’d only been going out for three months.

Jon must’ve seen the worry in my eyes because he spoke.

“Don’t worry, I’m not proposing,” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“This is a promise ring. I wanted to let you know I’ll never hurt you.”

He slipped the ring onto my finger and kissed me passionately.

“I love you Julia Hudson,” he spoke softly.

I wrapped my arms around his neck before saying, “I love you more, Jonathan Walker.”