Four Plain Walls

I never knew a simple room could pull me back like this one.

Just one guitar on the stage and a lone microphone stand.
A metal window facing a small platform.

Four plain walls around a wooden floor.

It was all the same.

The cheering died down and Jordan was just beginning his set.

The air was heavy and humid, and not a single body was dry; but once the beginning piano of his new single shook the speakers, a new wave of excitement ran through the small crowd.

A smile took up his face as a hand instinctively clung to the back of his beanie. He grabbed smoothly at the mic and soon began to sing the nervous energy from his body.

All this, from the back of the room, I observed.
Cigarette in hand and a foot on the wall.

It was one of those days.

Unfamiliar faces gave me odd looks as I sucked the smoke into my graying lungs. I closed my eyes and tried to feel the vapor travel through my torso.

All I felt were eyes.

I sighed, letting the smoke leave my body with it.

I almost regretted it when a small body crashed into my chest.

But the key word is almost.

I held the small figure as she gathered her balance.

She clung to my shirt, bunching it up in her fist, hugging me in sweet hostility.
Gentle, but strong enough I was rendered immobile.

A deep breath was all it took for her to realize.

"Oh!"

She released my shirt, and took a single abrupt step back.
Her hands were up in the way that signaled surrender.

The air in front of me felt light without her there.

I brought the small white stick to my mouth and took another drag.

Cracking open my own pair of chapped lips, I blew another cloud.

Problem solved.

"Well, hello there"

I looked down at her, only to be greeted to the top of her dark red, almost maroon, hair.

Her hands were down now, though hidden in the depths of her pockets.

Soon enough a quiet voice I could only assume originated from the petite figure next to me, found its way to my gauged ears.

"I'm sorry."

She paused, playing with her bangs, only to continue once a startling pair of grey eyes rested upon mine.

"But, uhm.. Thank you, for.."

She bent her head to the hardwood ground.
The only moving part of her now was the long dark hair that hung well past her shoulders, waving with the beat.

I grinned at the top of her head, and flicked the cig into a nearby ashtray.

I shook my head, though I knew she wouldn't notice.

"Don't even worry about it."

The stage is cold now.

A shelf of smooth brown hardwood over a thick metal protrusion from the wall.

No equipment, no screaming, sweaty fans.
No males screaming into microphones, and to be fair, no females either.

I sunk down to its wooden ground and let my bare feet hang off the side.

I was still alone and it was still the same.

I swung my calloused heels back and forth, each second of contact with the metal reverberated throughout the hallow mass.

A sigh enveloped my body.

This was the bittersweet part.

I nodded to no one as cigarette number three disintegrated into nothing but a stub.

"Alrighty, your turn."

I watched (and smirked) as she made a show of raising her brow and stroking her 'beard'

Some how, we had ended up sitting outside thebasement venue, chain smoking, and playing 20 Questions: Get To Know Each Other Edition.

By this point, I'm not sure either of us could explain how we got there.
Call it crazy, call it teenage disposition, call it inception.

I was happy, and by the sound of her laughter, I think she was too.

"Oh, lawd."

She giggled even louder, and threw her hands over her face.
She would have looked so innocent if it wasn't for the cancer stick smoldering from between her fingers.

I smirked at her hands until she cracked her fingers open over her eyes.

A smile was still in place as she flopped her hands down and took a drag.

A slight twinkle in her eye sparkled a little brighter as her bangs fell back over her brow. Though they soon disappeared behind makeup-less lids.

She went from looking like she was 8 back to 18.

It was lovely.
She was lovely.

I didn't know what to say.

Fuck.
No, Christofer, stop.
It's too soon.

I turned away and pulled my sad excuse for hair over my cheeks and well around my face.

I hid.

Out of the corners of my eye I watch as she turns, mouth open and corners of her lips turned up, as if about to speak.

Her face drops when she catches sight.

"What?"

I looked over to her quickly.

"Nothing."

"Stop."

She places a cool hand over mine, pinching my cigarette from my mouth, and tosses it away.

She looks me in the eye.

"Don't lie to me."

I whispered my answer.

"My parents divorced."

I let my eyes drift closed.

"They had love."

"And now that doesn't even exist anymore."

I tilted my head back until it hit the brick.

"But you don't know that."

I shook my head.
She put her's on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

She wrapped her arm around my stomach, and I felt a series of goose bumps erupt with each second of contact.

I wrapped my own around her.
She moved closer.

She was warm.

I whispered.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."

She nuzzled her nose into my neck.

"Mary?"

I felt her hum against my neck.

I shivered.
She held on tighter.

"I have my question."

She pulled her head up, and looked me in the eye, brow cocked.

"What is love?"

Her brow sunk back down.

She stared at me.
I stared at her.

"I-"

Silence.

She stopped.

I watched as her eyes flickered to my lips.
A split second deal, but one no one could miss.

I wanted to question, but there was hardly any time to close my eyes.

She tasted like coffee and cigarettes.

She pulled away first.

"I think it feels like that."

BOOM

My body jerked in surprise.
An extremely skinny, pale old janitor pulling a wastebasket made his way across the room.

His worn black sneakers made small shuffling noises as he moved.

"Oh, sorry there sonny."
He wheezed

I tried to smile as best I could.
"It's alright."

"Well, goodbye."

The old man heaved the other door open.
With a wave and a hard shove of the door, the man was out of my sight.

BOOM

"Mary."

The smile she was biting her lip to keep from over taking her face quickly fell.

"Shit."

She quickly moved away from me.

The air in front of me felt light.

I had no cigarette.

Her fingers quickly explored the gravel around us.

Swiftly packing her phone and her box of American Spirits into the pocket of her large button up, she stood.

"Mary!"

This time, that was me.

She looked at me as if she had almost forgotten I was there.

"I'm sorry Chris, but I shouldn't be here."

I looked at her like she was crazy.

"Meet me back here. I don't know when, but just come back. I'll see you again."

She kissed me.

"But Mary-"

But it was too late.
She squeezed my hand tightly, turned around, and ran into the pitch black.

I watched until she blended into the dark.

I sighed.

Where did she go, you ask?

Ha, you ask me like I know.

"Christofer?"

Someone whispered from behind me.

I gasped.
I shut my eyes.

It couldn't be.

"Chris."

I slowly opened my eyes to find Jeremy Burke standing before me.

"I thought I'd find you here."

He paused.

"Listen, man, she's not coming back. There's no use in waiting-"

I gritted my teeth.

"Don't fucking say that."

I heard him sigh.

"I think that's enough, Chris."

I squeezed my eyes ever shut.

A deep breath was all it took for me to realize.

"Oh."

I hopped off the side of the stage, and made my way to the door, Jeremy close behind.

I paused.

"I- um.. Can you go ahead? I promise I won't be long, I just.. Can I just have a few more seconds? I'll meet you at the bus."

He rubbed his chin, but a slow nod followed soon after.

I waited until he left to take my last glance.

My hands instinctively found their way to the sides of my face, pulling my hair in an attempt to cover as much of my face as possible.

All I did achieved was a few red marks on my face.

Another deep breath and a quick surge of frustration, I whispered angrily.

"Fuck, hair cuts."

My hands settled for the depths of my pockets.

I headed for the door.

The outside world was a surprise to say the least.

Walking out the door I was bombarded with sound, as if it had all been sucked into a vacuum, then set loose the moment I opened the door.

Though there wasn't much time to think of things like that, as I was greeted by the familiar vrroooooom of the bus, and an anxious Taylor sitting, back up against the brick of the building, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers.

BOOM

Startled by the noise, his body jerked with surprise.

"Oh, shit!"

He turned to face me.

"Oh, hey Chris."

I kept on walking.

His features softened as he sped to catch up to me.

"How'd it go?"

I took a seat on our bus and propped my elbow on the ledge as a stared out the window.

I sighed.

"Same as it is every year."

Four plain walls and the girl that got away.