Status: 10/01/2014: I've been writing this for almost two years and I'm finally getting to the good bits. (Started: 12/23/2012)

Dreaming With a Broken Heart

if i never see your face again

Dash sat on the floor of the basement studio, her head bent over the acoustic guitar on her lap, gently picking her way through a verse that she had been working on all morning and afternoon. Each of the seven men that were staying at the Simple Plan house had gone out, each of them claiming they had “errands to run” or they just “needed a break”. Dash was thankful for the quiet. As much as she loved spending time with her cousin and her friends - old and new - she was content to have the house to herself, so that she could focus on writing for the planned EP without Kane or Ezra breathing down her neck about deadlines. When the band had agreed to go ahead with this acoustic album, Dash had promised that the final product would be completed by the time that Kane and Ezra headed back to Québec. However, five days into their stay, they had only managed to record two songs - two great songs, Dash thought - with Dash insisting that nothing else she had written was ready.

She knew that she could turn to Alex or Pierre for help. Both of her friends had been extremely helpful in trying to get her over her writer’s block, but Dash wanted to be able to produce a great song on her own, as she had in the past.

Letting out a deep sigh, Dash pushed the guitar off her lap in frustration. Everything was sounding wrong again. She needed something to write about. She needed some sort of inspiration. She needed a change of scenery. What she needed was a beer.

Getting to her feet, Dash headed up the two flights of stairs to her room. She shed her pyjama shorts and baggy t-shirt that she had been wearing, in favour of her favourite dark jeans and a red plaid button-up. Taking her phone off the charger and sent a quick text to both her cousin and Alex, telling them where she was heading and asking the latter to meet her at the bar around the corner for a drink.

The Vancouver air was cold and crisp against Dash’s face as she stepped outside. She shuddered slightly, pulling her grey beanie further over her head and stuffing her clenched hands into the pockets of her coat. Brown leaves crunched underfoot with every step that Dash took down the street; each and every tree that lined the sidewalks were bare, the first indication that winter was just around the corner.

Thankfully, it was much warmer inside the bar than outside. Dash pulled up a stool at the bar, shrugging off her jacket as she waited for a bartender to notice her. She laid her phone in front of her, noticing that her message had not gotten a response from Alex. She shrugged and the young red-headed bartender stood in front of Dash and asked her for her poison of choice.

“Rickard’s White, please,” said the small girl, smiling softly. The red-head quickly went to work, pouring up a pint of beer before placing it in front of the girl. Dash placed the change for the beer on the bar, and dropped the orange slice that was resting on the rim of the glass into the beer. Oranges slices, thought Dash, orange slices at the bottom of an empty glass… She shook her head. “That doesn’t even make any sense,” she muttered to herself.

“Talking to yourself?” said a voice to her right. Dash glanced over to see a man who was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Clearly not anymore,” she replied, returning the smile.

“Is that an invitation to sit?” Dash chewed the inside of her lip, sizing up the guy standing in front of her. He was fairly tall - not as tall as Alex, she noted - with broad shoulders and strong jaw line. His dark hair was cut close to his head and his eyes were blue - a bright, bright blue. What the hell?

Dash shrugged, turning her attention back to her drink. “That’s entirely up to your discretion.”

She heard him laugh next to her. “That’s all the invitation I need.” Dash turned to see him sit himself on the stool next to her and hold out his hand to her. “I’m Michael.”

“Dash,” she replied, placing her small hand in his. “Pleasure.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gestured to almost-empty glass in front of her. “Can I buy you another drink?”

Dash hesitated as she mulled over a response. She had only planned to come out for one drink. But what was two? “Sure,” she said, finally, “why not?”

Michael shot her another smile, and put up a hand to catch the attention of the bartender.

“Are you from the city, Dash?”

The dark haired girl shook her head. “No. I’m from Québec. I’m in town visiting some friends. And yourself?”

“Born and raised,” he confirmed. “I work at a bank just a few blocks over.”

Dash nodded as the bartender placed another drink in front of her. She repeated the process of dunking the orange slice into the fruity beer. “And how’s that?”

“It pays the bills,” came his response. “You do what you’ve got to do.”

Dash lifted the glass to her lips, taking a long drink, before turning to Michael, a smile on her face. “Tell me something about yourself, Michael.”

×××


“He ordered you a stripper?”

Michael nodded, unable to stop himself from laughing. “He did. I could’ve killed him. Let me tell you, my girlfriend at the time was not impressed.”

“That sounds like something my friends would do,” Dash confirmed, chuckling along with the man sitting next to her.

“Then they sound like assholes.”

Dash nodded in agreement. “That’s one way to describe them.”

The red-headed bartender placed another round of drinks in front of the couple. After Dash had finished the drink that Michael had bought her, he insisted that he buy her another, and another, and another. Before Dash knew it, they were six drinks in and any doubts she had had about Michael in the beginning of their meeting had completely dissipated.

Her phone beeped from it’s position on top of the bar. She picked it up to see she had a message from Alex.

From: AWG
I just saw your msg. Sorry about that. Dinner later? My treat x.

“Anything important?” Michael asked, that smile ever present on his face.

“Just one of those friends I’m visiting. I asked him to meet me here earlier but he bailed. He’s offering to feed me to make up for it.”

“Fair trade, I think,” he replied.

“I thought so too.” Dash laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she glanced at the top of her phone. “Is that really the time? Is it four thirty already? God, where does the time go?”

“I guess you have to head back for that dinner with your friend?” Michael asked, his smile drooping at the corners slightly.

Dash bit her lip, feeling torn. Michael was a riot, but she and Alex hadn’t hung out properly for a few days. “I guess I should.”

“Can I get your number at least? Maybe next time you could let me feed you,” he offered. “I promise that sounded smoother in my head.”

She chuckled, checking her phone once more. 4:30. “Actually,” she countered, leaning forward and resting a hand on Michael’s forearm, “maybe I can push off dinner for a couple of hours.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh?”

Dash grinned cheekily and nodded. “Yup,” she replied, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. “Then maybe we could head back to your place and get to know each other a little better.”

The dark haired man sitting across from her smirked, finally realizing what Dash was propositioning. “Well then, let’s do that.” He stood up, finishing his drink and holding out his hand to Dash. “Follow me, little lady.”

Dash pulled on her jacket and dropped her phone in her pocket, before taking Michael’s hand. “Lead the way, kind sir.”

To: AWG
Late dinner? A little busy atm. Say 7?

It was getting dark now. The street lights lit up the darkening city. The wind had breezed up since Dash had been outside earlier. The air was still chilly, but now there was a breeze nipping at her exposed cheeks. “It’s gotten chillier,” Michael commented. “I only live a block over, but we can get a cab if you’re too cold.”

Dash shook her head. “I’m okay to walk. Besides, looking for a cab would be wasting precious time,” she said, looking up and meeting Michael’s gaze.

He nodded and returned her smile. “Good point.” He reached forward to brush away a piece of hair that had blown in Dash’s face. He pushed it behind her shoulders, then moved his hand forward to rest on the base of her neck. “Maybe,” he murmured, “maybe I should try this first before we commit to going back to my place.”

He took a step forward so that Dash’s back was pressed against the wall of a brick building. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt his fingers tickle her neck. He looked down at her, eyes lustful and heavy-lidded. Michael leaned forward; Dash could feel his warm breath on her lips, the prelude to any kiss.

Prelude to a kiss, she thought, as she kept eye contact with Michael. Not bad. He pressed his lips to hers, gingerly at first, as though he were testing the waters. Dash broke the kiss to take a breath, allowing Michael to take the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, and she gripped the side of his jacket, pulling him closer to her. He wrapped one arm around her back, pressing her to him.

Get a room.” Dash broke away from Michael as she heard someone hiss at them.

She lifted a hand to her lips and smiled at the man in front. “Yes,” she agreed with the nameless stranger. “Let’s.”
♠ ♠ ♠
take me down, but take it easy.
make me think, but don't deceive me.
torture me by taking your time.

let's not get into how long it's been since the last update.
thanks to the following for commenting:

BeautifulBreakdown
JardineSardine


thanks to everyone's continuing support x.