Sonata

It was like some strange dream.
The stairs were infinite, and would take all night to go down, along with all my strength.

It was probably easier to just tumble down and get a couple bruises than die of exhaustion; attempting the impossible task of descending.

In the middle of this long passageway before me was a light hanging; illuminating all these steps, and around it flew a swarm of insects in crazy, orbital motions. There was a railing on the right side of the wall, thank God, and I could still hear Tom traveling.
But the ruckus of the pre-show was absent.

"How long is this going to take?" I asked softly, still in a daze of mild awe.

Oli shrugged,
"I suppose 'bout ten minutes. Good thing yeh ain' wearing' 'eels."

I nodded. He stared at me for a moment, the way he should have when we were first introduced, then turned back to walk.
We began our journey.

As expected, things between us were quiet, and only our rare bodily functions, like heavy breathing, were our only interruptions. He was the one using the support of the railing, while I was left struggling and praying for safety all the way down.
I'm sure this wasn't intentional, for he was originally on the right side and I on the left where I got jack shit to hold onto.

I could always use his arm, yet that option was quickly thrown out.
We just continued, step by step.

"Thanks for that." I said quietly.

I remembered that I hadn't properly thanked him for the whole Tony thing. He stopped completely to look at me. We were really close to the lamp now, probably only ten steps ahead. You could say that it was just close enough to hear, faintly, the flap of an insect's wings. Not that I was listening, but I knew it was true as one flew past the bridge of my nose. I sniffed on impulse, but continued staring at Oli.
What was really going on, I think, was elusive to both of us, but then he cleared his throat and it was over.

"'S no problem." he muttered.

And our jaunt generated once again.
A meager chill seemed to blow through the hallway, and I ran my hands down my arms to create sweet, glorious friction.

"God, it just got really cold."

Oli focused at my feeble attempt.

"Yeah, we're gettin' farther underground. Curt shoulda told yeh teh bring a weasel."

"A what?"

"Jacket, sorry."

I hoped that this british slang of their's wouldn't continue much longer, especially when it was only Oli and I.
I would either reach the end of these stairs looking like I was drenched by a random waterfall, or embarrassed off my ass.
I'd rather be wringing out my shirt.

"'Ere, yeh look like yer 'bout teh fall."

He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me over to where he was standing. I had an internal freak out, for now he was man-handling me. He seemed to notice, because then he said,

"Do I make yeh nervous?"

I looked over at him and shook my head frantically, as though I were doing a better job at trying to convince myself then convince him.

"No, I'm fin-"

"Because the last thing I wanna do is scare off a pretty lady on account of meh bein' as asshole."

He stopped walking again.
I didn't know if that was a come on or honesty, but he made me stay still too. Or maybe I just didn't want to go down there alone.
For the second time, he stared at me like he was meeting me all over again. I cleared my throat, grasping blindly for the control that had left me.

"Sorry, I'm just talking crazy; getting tired."

"Aw, I don' want yeh passin' out when yeh crowdsurf."

I looked at him incredulously.

"Crowd surfing? Yeah right." I said with a laugh.

"Oh come on, why not?"

"I'm wearing a dress!"

I didn't even realize that we were walking again.

"'S a dashin' one too." he remarked lightly.

I peered over at him and muttered a 'thank you'.
The jokes had transformed me back to my normal self, and this time, when we walked in silence, it wasn't so bad.

After what seemed like the remainder of my life, we had reached a oak door that was closed. We passed the light a long time ago, and now we were left in darkness.
Oli's hot breath was hitting my frozen face, and I just wanted to stand there for a while and take it in.
He reached across my front and grabbed the handle, then whispered,

"'Ere we go."

[...&&&...]

"I feel so used." I said sadly.

Matt N. was shaking his head, and Curtis was cursed with disgust. We had our backs to the bar and were staring across at Matt the rotweiler; smothering his next bitch with his lips.
I, the ex bitch, watching with the two poodles.

"Do I not mean anything to him in forty-five mins, while he's making out with this girl in two? He's replaced me." I cried.

"Drop the act. Yeh know yer 'appy."
Matt mumbled before taking another swig from his drink.

I looked over at him and wriggled my eyebrows, saying,

"I know."

We all laughed contently and continued to stare.

Did I feel like a pedophile?
Yes.
A voyeur, to be more specific?
You could say that.

To give you a better summary, in that span of two minutes, I was very sure that I had witnessed all the skills that Matthew Keane possessed.
It seemed that I was the only one interested anymore as Curtis and Matt N. had started up a different genre of conversation with me literally in the middle of it.

"Eve?"

I blinked, then turned away from the pre-show.

"Huh?"

"Mattie an' I 'ave teh get ready."

I nodded while they both put their empty glasses on the wooded bar, where the bartender took them hastily; making them clink.
I had been dreading this moment ever since Oli left me here at the bar, due to a couple strangers yelling for him to come over.

I had my back turned for one moment, and the next thing I know, he's gone.

I was left looking stupid; wide-eyed and lost, before Curtis found me and joined me for a drink. We shared our 'cheers' and gulped down our preferred alcohol right when Matt N. saw us, ran over, and called Curtis a "divvy" for getting drunk without him, to which Curtis shoot back the insult of, plain and simply, bastard.

After a few minutes of bliss in the form of alcohol consumption, he spit out his beer -of course, unintentionally- because he was hit head on by some sporadic, humorous interruption.

Also known to them as Matt K. sucking a blonde's face/heavy makeup off.

As for me, I categorized it as disgusting and degrading, but ended up exchanging laughs with my two fellow observers for the sake of the light-hearted moment.

I asked them where everyone was, concerning the rest of our group, and they said they were backstage getting ready, which in turn, reminded them that they had to participate also; leaving me just like their fellow band mate had.
Flaky, if you ask me, even though I was feeling selfish for the time being.

I was surrounded by an overwhelming amount of people, and even though this place we were at was huge and underground, where it was thought to be cold; in reality, I was burning up.

Call me anxious.
Call me ludicrous.

The people who had brought me had abandoned me too.
Would that be considered a double negative since that was inevitable and I knew it?

I couldn't come to a conclusion, what I had to do was find a secluded place to stand by.
A dark corner to sit in.

I hadn't decided whether or not I wanted to be in the crowd while the boys performed, but they still didn't enlightened me about what type of music they created, and with them; being tattooed and pierced, I had a feeling that their idols weren't The Backstreet Boys.

They looked pretty rough, or at least Oli did, so getting trampled to death by desperate, deprived, music-starving moshers wouldn't be a goal of mine.
I was never one to get excited over that sort of thing because, to me, music was something I wanted to keep to myself; stand behind the crowd and enjoy it. As I looked around, I saw Oli, who's eyebrows shot up as he approached me.

"Oi, what yeh doin' 'ere all by yourself?"

"I'm 23 Oli; not 16."
I replied, taken aback by his out-of-character 'motherliness'.

People were passing right between us and around, and he still managed to grab my forearm and pull me towards him; walking me over to some other part of the club. If I could be heard over all these club-goers, i would ask where he was taking me, but soon, Tom came into view and I knew.
He was already dragging out a chair when Oli sat me down.

"Okay, listen,"

He crouched down in front of me to maintain eye contact, and I felt like a kid again.

"Stay 'ere with my brub an' 'elp 'im out, alright?"

I nodded, but was so confused as to why he was acting so strangely; so uncharacteristically.
He got up from the floor and left in the opposite direction. Blinking, as though every time I would open my eyes would mean another thought, Tom's arm brushed up against mine to get my attention.

I don't know if it was my nerves, or for real, but it looked like he mouthed
"He likes you."