Six Feet Under the Stars

"You're going out?" Alex raised an eyebrow at the dress on my body, his eyes lingering longingly on my legs.

It was a little black number that I hadn't pulled out of the closet since I had stopped taking dancing lessons some months ago. The top was strappy and showed a reasonable amount of skin while the bottom billowed nicely accenting my figure. It wasn't over the top for a night out, just a fun outfit for the coming hours of city time. I shook a hand through my hair to give it some more volume and replied a simple, "Yes."

He leaned against the bathroom doorframe stiffly and folded his arms across his chest. A demanding tone entered his voice. "And how do you plan to get around?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, I said simply, "Just thought I'd walk around and see where I ended up. There's a lot to run into out there."

"Alone?"

As if on cue, Jack walked into the room from the bedroom entrance. "Hey, Melanie. I was thinking we could start out going to--." He abruptly cut off at the sight of his best friend.

Alex looked between the two of us remaining expressionless. "Really lovely." Sarcasm dripped through his every word with a strong bite.

Jack flushed a little bit but kept his voice steady. "Come on. I couldn't let her go alone. She could be mugged or something walking down the street."

"Did you think to invite me or were you just going to leave me here?" Alex asked looking for one of us to answer though all we did was shift uncomfortably under his accusations.

"Well, you were busy sulking in your room." I said defensively. The guilt I felt for leaving him out of the plans evaporated as soon as Alex's pocket buzzed and he flipped open his phone. He spoke in hushed tones but it was obvious he was talking to Caitlyn on the other end.

"Can I call you back?" He questioned to her while slightly glaring at me. Caitlyn replied in an angry matter evident in the loud crackling over the line. Alex sighed and continued in the other end, "No, I'm not around any groupies. I'm just in the middle of something."

I shot Alex a look back and turned to face Jack who was scrunching his face up in the most adorable manner trying to turn invisible. "Let's go."

Jack bit his lip, "Melanie, I don't think we--."

Ignoring his protests, I grabbed his arm and steered him out of the bathroom away from where Alex was trapped on the phone with Caitlyn. I figured that if he really cared he'd just hang up on her and come deal with me instead of bending to his ex-girlfriend's will everytime.

I stormed down the hall and dragged Jack with me towards the other end trying to get as far away from Alex's bullshit as I could. Once in the elevator, I noticed Jack had been silent for nearly five minutes and looked like he was quietly fuming. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"We shouldn't have left Alex up there. I feel really guilty now and he probably thinks I'm trying to steal you. This is just a mess." Frustrated, he threw his hands up in the air.

The doors dinged open revealing the nearly empty lobby. "Sorry. I didn't mean to cause any problem between you guys. I just... want him to care."

Until Jack wrapped his arms around me I hadn't realized that tears were building up in my eyes. He held me until the elevator doors closed us in again and started to climb skywards. Shushing me comfortingly, I only focused on blinking back the water. "He does care."

"About Caitlyn." I felt like such an emotional mess, blubbering all over him.

"And you." Jack leaned down and pressed his lips to my temple softly. I stiffened and pulled away from him slowly realizing what was happening. Not because it was out of the question, only because it was so unexpected. Jack flushed a bright pink for the second time that day and I averted my eyes while rubbing my leaky nose to distract myself from what had happened. Jack cleared his throat loudly, "Like I said, he cares. Don't worry. Now, uh... off to the city."

My body remained rigid as I gave a nod. "Seattle awaits."

The awkward air around us cleared almost immediately once we crossed the threshold into the concrete maze. We chatted freely as if the event in the elevator had never occured and strolled until Jack pointed out a bar ahead with neon lights and pumping music. With a wide grin, Jack pulled me alongside him into the bustling club.

The two of us fought our way to the bar annoyingly located on the opposite end of the room and sat at two high stools that scratched agains the ground. Names and phrases were scarred into the bartop like crude cave drawings. The man behind the bar quickly poured us both shots before Jack asked simply saying that we seemed like liquor people. Tipping our heads back, we didn't question him mostly because the two of us really needed a drink anyway.

Music pumped over loudspeakers and I missed the feel of the club back in Portland Alex had taken me to with the live band. It added a special influence to the atmosphere that was missing in this busy establishment. Pretty soon a crowd of three girls approached Jack whispering and giggling. "Are you Jack Barakat?" The bravest girl asked stepping out in front. She was tan with flowing black hair pulled back in an intricately woven braid. "You know, from All Time Low?"

"Yeah." Jack replied simply over the music. It seemed like he was used to fans approaching him in public places and didn't think anything of the three fans crouched around him.

"Really?" Another squealed, delighted at meeting a celebrity. "You have to get us tickets to your show. We're all huge fans and tried to buy them, but it was all sold out by the time we tried."

"Sorry, they tend to go pretty fast." Jack told the girls sympathetically.

The third girl in the group seemed like the most quiet. She leaned against the bar and stared at Jack with a dreamy look across her face the hold time. It was sort of sweet to see a girl with a crush on him and I loved how his kind words with her made her blush.

Mostly though, I sat there listening to the conversation as the fans only focused on their idol. I was patient with the three girls and Jack, but when an hour passed and I saw the night withering before my eyes, I decided to take action. "I'll be back." I told Jack though I was pretty sure he hadn't even heard me.

Venturing out of the bar alone, I walked the lonely Seattle streets by myself. The lamp posts guided my journey as my mind wandered all over the place from Alex to Caitlyn, Dorian to Jack, and back. All of it was confusing.

I had made no progress with sorting out my problems as I turned a corner and heard the most intriguing sound since I had entered the city. Coming from a dimly lit club was a voice I just had to follow. Weaving between cigarette smoke and tapping toes, I pushed my way to the front of the stage and stared up at the performer.

The man looked oddly familiar to me and it took a few minutes for me to place his face; it was the gauged smoker on the side of the street that I noticed on my way into the city. It really was a small world. His jet black hair was still eccentrically shooting from his head and the stage lights reflected glossily off of his locks reminding me of the rainbow colors that appeared in oil.

Leaning over his guitar, he touched the strings with the fondess of embracing a lover. His voice was surprisingly deep and souful while belting out a cover of the Allman Brothers Band's song 'Ramblin' Man'. For his purposes, he had slowed the tune almost to half-time and the lethargic sound gave an interesting layer to the song, almost giving the lyrics a new spin as well.

After the performance came to a lingering stop, the guitarist finally removed his eyes from his instrument and glanced up at the crowd. Instead of a room full of cheers, the applause was scattered and one guest even shouted, "Get off the fucking stage!" For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why until I saw that the club was exclusively for punk rock.

The guitarist carried his acoustic guitar huffily to the end of the stage and jumped off in a quick exit. His black head bobbed up and down through the crowd as he made his way out the doors. A portly man taking the stage and microphone announced, "And now for the Screeching Razors!"

The crowd immediately went wild and shouted for the band's set to start. With a quick tapping of drum sticks, the Screeching Razors dove into a messy cover of The Ramones song "Judy Is A Punk" but the audience ignored the fumbled notes and mumbled lyrics. I stayed for a few songs, but soon found my attention drifting and headed back out of the doors.

The acoustic performer from earlier leaned against the brick walls starting to light another Kool cigarette. By the looks of the stubs on the ground he had nearly smoked half a pack already. His eyes were slightly bloodshot as he warily regarded me from a few feet away. "Are you looking to bum a smoke or something?"

"No, thanks."

He tucked the pack back inside the pocket of his leather jacket with a shrug. "Your choice."

"I liked what you played in there." I told him sincerely.

The guitarist laughed without humor, "Are you being sarcastic? Because if you are I'm going to be fucking pissed."

"No, I really liked it. The Allman Brothers Band is actually one of my favorites. Slowing the tempo down was genius, I have to say. It paid good homage to the original." Folding my arms around me, I leaned against the wall next to him.

"Thanks. I really like the chord progression in the song and I thought the end solo would sound amazing slowed down like that. I just wish the guys in there would listen up for five fucking seconds." With that, he flicked the burning cigarette butt to the ground angrily.

"At least they didn't boo you off." I reasoned optimistically.

He snorted. "Basically did anyway." Eyeing me speculatively, he lit another cigarette and held out a calloused hand to me, "The name's Patrick."

"Melanie." I shook his hand quickly. "How'd you get a gig here if it's a punk joint?"

Patrick laughed at the memory. "Now that's a funny story. I used to play a lot of hardcore shit here with my old band. We were called the The Vantage Points and would drink and curse and basically piss ourselves on stage. Anyway, the club loved us." He shrugged as if he had no idea why the venue would like them at all. "Recently, we had a pretty nasty split. The drummer slept with my girlfriend. So, I went off on my solo venture."

"So the club just assumed you were playing the same type of music when they booked you?" I question catching on to his story.

"Pretty much." Patrick replied and glanced down at the lit toxic stick in his hands. "You sure you don't want a smoke?"

"I don't smoke."

"Oh." Somehow I thought he looked down on me for that. Getting angry, I turned away slightly and drug all of my hair to cascade over one shoulder. Interest flashed into Patrick's eyes, "You have a tattoo?" He had spotted the violet imprinted behind my ear.

"Yeah, for The Violets. They're this punk band that's a little post punk. I guess they're sort of underground so you probably don't--."

"I love The Violets!" Patrick exclaimed, eyes bright.

"What?" I said incredulously. "You know them? You're the only other person I've met that actually knows about them."

"Hell yeah. They were pretty badass. It's fucking terrible that they split up."

"I know! Alexis Mary is pretty much my idol though. She's so edgy and different in everything she does. I wish I could have seen them live."

Patrick nodded and then a smile formed on his mouth even with the cigarette, "Since you don't smoke, would you wanna grab a drink with me? I need an excuse to keep talking to you."

Eagerly, I agreed; the music connection we shared made me feel like Patrick was my friend already. We chose a little coffeehouse on the corner and sat in a spacious booth with only two steaming coffee mugs separating us. The two of us discussed our hatred of the Sex Pistols which most people would think was insane. Hours passed unnoticed as punk bands turned to classic rock, and then moved to the indie track.

After telling Patrick of a recent concert I had attended where the stage had almost caught on fire, an annoying buzz distracting me from my next words. I knew the source; my cellphone. Discretely, I dove in between my cleavage which was the only secure way to hold a phone when wearing a dress while Patrick fiddled with a sugar packet. I stared at the caller for an extended moment before answering, "Hey Alex. What do you want?"

"Shit." He then shouted to someone in the background, "She's here. Melanie finally answered." An agitated voice said a few things back and forth with Alex, until he turned his attention to me waiting on the other line, "Where have you been?"

"In the city." I swirled a finger around the circular top to my coffee mug.

Anxiously, Alex rambled off a string of expletives under his breath. "Where in the city? Seattle is pretty big, you know."

"Are you going to find me?" I asked suspiciously.

"Melanie, it's almost four in the morning. Of course I'm going to fucking find you. I'm going to get to you and drag your ass back to the hotel with me." Alex said heatedly.

I was surprised to hear the amount of anger in his voice, but it was a welcome change from the zombie he'd been the past few days. "It's not like I'm by myself." Letting Alex know I had company around might calm his nerves a little.

There was a long silence. "You're with someone?"

I glanced up at Patrick where he waited somewhat impatiently for me to end my conversation. "Yeah. He was at a club around the corner somewhere."

"Holy shit, holy shit. You're with some random stranger in a strange city wandering around in a strange place." Even though I couldn't see him, I knew Alex well enough to tell he was pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to get his emotions under control before continuing, "Okay. Melanie, please tell me where you are."

Looking across the shop at a logo, I read, "Loca Mocha."

"Don't leave. I'll be there." With that, Alex hung up the phone.

Sighing, I threw my cellphone down on the table and was surprised to see it in Patrick's hand the next second. "Hey!"

Apparently he looked at the recent call logs. "Alex? Looks like he called you almost twenty times. Is he your boyfriend?"

"No." I answered and held back a sigh of frustration.

After about fifteen minutes, the bell on the front door to the shop rang against the glass as someone slammed the door shut. It wasn't long before Alex came over to the booth looking as mad as I had ever seen him. Even when I had gotten onto his case about Caitlyn, he had never looked so furious as he did now.

"Found me." I said awkwardly as he regarded me with his blood boiling.

"Ha ha." His fake laughs did not sound amused.

"Hey, man. You look familiar." Patrick scrutinized Alex, oblivious to all the tension going on between us. The air was thick with anger, unresolved feelings, and the twinge of lust that never went away between Alex and I.

Alex ignored him and took a hold of my arm, "Come on, Melanie. Let's take you home."

"Where's Jack?" I questioned wondering if he had ever given those fans concert tickets.

Alex worked to extract me from the booth, "At the hotel nearly having a mental breakdown. You left him at that one bar and didn't answer your phone at all. He thought you'd gotten murdered, or raped, maybe hit by a car."

My mouth dropped and my eyes grew wide and I stammered unintelligibly. "What? No... I didn't mean... that wasn't supposed to happen. I just, I... I dunno."

"If she doesn't want to go don't force her." Patrick stood up at a menacing six foot three.

"You don't even know her." Alex said hautily and moved me closer to him.

The giant narrowed his eyes and then illumination cleared his mind. "Hey, you're that guy from All Time Low."

"Yeah." was his unenthusiastic reply.

Patrick laughed for a long minute before he said anything. "Your music fucking sucks, man. I'll tell you the truth; all you sing about is girls and love problems. You guys look like jokes with your hair and everything. Just give it up."

A deep, tense silence filled the air. "That's my band you're talking about."

"Yeah, I know." Patrick laughed and suddenly I could see the mean set of his jaw and the way his eyes cockily sized up the situation in front of him. He was full of himself and thought his music opinions were law. I wondered how I hadn't seen it before. "The only people that would listen to that shit is adolescent girls with nothing better to do with their time."

Surprisingly, I spoke up, "That's not true."

"Don't tell me you like that shit." Patrick looked taken aback and reflexively searched for a cigarette to light but came up empty.

"It's not shit. They're a really good band." I defended, breaking away from Alex and standing on my own to face the guitarist. "Maybe you should expand your music taste and actually take a listen instead of having your head in your ass all the time."

Part of me wasn't sure why I was defending Alex so aggresively. Maybe it was because of the amount of time, sweat, and soul the four band members fueled their music with. It could have been the fact that Jack's hands were calloused with his dedication and Alex's near breakdown from the touring stress just showed how much they cared.

Patrick snorted loudly, "Probably because you're fucking him."

My cheeks turned a deep red. "Don't say that."

He laughed, "You're blushing; it must be true. Damn, you're just a star fucker. Maybe you can move onto me once I make it big."

Alex stepped forward beside me, "Shut your mouth. Don't say anything about her."

"What are you going to do? Straighten my hair?" Patrick laughed to himself. "Really scary stuff. And don't think you can fight me; I've seen more beat downs at punk shows than you ever will in your life."

I worked to unclench Alex's fist. "Hey now. Let's just go."

It was difficult to drag Alex back out onto the Seattle streets, but I managed to even with Patrick hurling taunts at us the whole way. The fresh air seemed to clear Alex's head and he calmed down after a few deep breaths. We walked slowly on the sidewalk and I bit my lip the whole way fearing his anger would come out and snap at me.

Shockingly, he only sighed, "How about you don't meet anymore strangers in Seattle, okay?"

"Okay." I agreed already regretting my run-in with Patrick. It was insane how people could change so suddenly. But in the end, it was my stupid decision to run off was what got the two of us in this mess. I was just glad to have Alex be the one to pull me out again.

After a moment of thought, he added, "And no more outtings with Jack either."

I hid my smile from Alex. "I don't think I'll agree to that one. Jack and I had a pretty good time until the fans sucked his time away. Next time we'll just plan around that to avoid any trouble."

"Next time? Of course there'd be a next time." Alex grumbled under his breath almost so low I couldn't hear. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that he was jealous.