Thrown Together

"You want me to go to a concert with you?" Tom's voice was clipped, irritated, feet shuffling as he stood in his doorway. Fucking Ethan. He wasn't just his agent, but his friend. And right now he hated him. The last thing he wanted was to be around other people. He just wanted to be left alone.

"It's not really a concert. It's just a band playing a bar, but they're supposed to be good."

"I don't want to go to a fucking bar, for Christ's sake."

Ethan pushed his way into the door and started up the stairs to Tom's room. "It's been months since Charlotte cheated on you, and I'm sick of your whining. This moping shit ends today." Tom hesitantly followed his friend upstairs to find him in his closet, ripping a checkered shirt off its hanger and throwing it at him. "I have to go there to check these guys out for the agency anyway. Get dressed, we're leaving in fifteen."

"But-"

"I will call Peanut to drag your ass out with me if I have to. Don't make me call him. You know how he gets when he drinks."

"Why am I friends with you again?"

"Because I get you the big fucking movies and you love me. Fourteen minutes, clock's ticking."

-----

The bar was crowded, somehow hazy even though smoking in bars had been banned in LA for some while now. There was hardly room to move between people, bodies pressing against him and sweat starting to form on the back of his neck. Ethan was chatting two women up beside him while Tom had his back to the bar, elbows resting against it as he sipped his bottled water, surveying the room. His friend kept trying to pull him into the conversation, but he had no interest in women right now. "You'll have to forgive him, ladies," he could hear Ethan crooning next to him. "My stick-in-the-mud friend here has obviously forgotten how to have fun." Their responding giggles made him nauseous.

Yells of excitement filtered from the stage area as the band got into position. He couldn't make out much from where he was, but it looked like it was an all woman band. Great, more women.

"How are you fuckers doing tonight?" a feminine voice rang through the speakers. The responding shouts were anxious, eager. The lead singer laughed, obviously comfortable in the spotlight. "We are the Collywobbles, let's have some fun!"

And at that the music started, horn section blaring, the songs peppy and full of life. It was a good mix of original songs and covers, and despite his misgivings about coming out in the first place, Tom couldn't help but start to enjoy himself. As long as he was focusing on the music, he wasn't thinking about Charlotte.

There was a lull in between songs. Tom saw one of the guitarists lean over to whisper something into the lead singer's ear. "Shut your fucking face!" she cried out, suddenly giddy. "We have a special treat for you fuckers tonight! Molly, where the fuck are you? I know you're here, baby doll, get your ass up here!"

Tom watched as a curly haired redhead climbed the stage, her chef's coat obvious even from where he stood. She started unbuttoning it, making the rounds across the stage to acknowledge the band members, eventually stripping of the jacket completely. The front woman continued. "For those of you who are not in the know, our dear friend Molly here used to have my job. We were Molly and the Collywobbles until Molly decided to go open a fucking restaurant instead of singing. So maybe if you fuckers ask real nice-like, she'll sing for you."

The responding chorus of yells was apparently enough, because the redhead hugged her friend before taking the microphone with a smile. "The mouth on that one, yeah?" she giggled. "Oh, don't act all offended, Amelia, it's fucking true."

The band was quiet as she began to sing.

Birds flying high, you know how I feel.

The effect on the crowd was immediate, everyone suddenly silent as they stared at the siren before them.

Sun in the sky, you know how I feel.

Her voice was incredible, somehow clear and gritty at the same time.

Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel.

Tom suddenly found himself mesmerized by the woman on the stage. Before, he had been quietly detached, just enjoying the music without paying too close attention to the band. But now ...

It's a new dawn,
It's a new day,
It's a new life,
For me.
And I'm feeling good.

The horn section kicked in, almost startling Tom as they did. "Jesus, she can wail," Ethan leaned over to whisper to him. "The band itself is okay without her, but with her they could probably go places." Tom nodded. "You having fun yet, you bastard?"

"Can't complain."

"Doesn't do you any good to anyway."

"True enough." Nina Simone's Feeling Good led to the Heavy's How You Like Me Now. Tom found himself watching Molly, almost regretting how far away he was from the stage. She seemed to lose herself in the music, jumping around and stomping her feet. The lights from the stage turned her curly hair into a fuzzy halo surrounding her face.

"This is my last one, so if you were holding out on me, now is the time to get fucking rowdy!" Molly called out to the crowd.

Now wait a minute!

When she sang out this time, her voice was crystal clear, all the grit gone. Catcalls and echoes of 'woo' ran through the crowd. How was she able to morph her tone like that?

I feel alright!

"I think I'm in love," Ethan opined as he leaned over again to speak with Tom. "That girl is really something."

"Good luck with that, mate."

You know you make me wanna

"Shout!" Ethan yelled into his ear, the rest of the bar echoing him. Everybody was up and jumping, repeating back the lyrics when appropriate, laughs ringing out. The song was over too soon, cheers of appreciation following Molly as she took a bow and left the stage. How the actual lead singer was going to be able to follow that was impossible to comprehend.

"Yeah, yeah, you fuckers are stuck with me now!" Amelia called out before starting the next song. She was good, but Molly was better. And apparently she knew it.

"Raoul!" a voice called out next to him, elbowing him aside as the woman nearly crawled over the bar to give the bartender a hug. "Excuse me," she muttered before yelling out "Water me!" to the man who was apparently named Raoul.

Tom turned to find the same curly haired siren that moments ago had been commanding the stage, watching as she gulped down water. Her chef's coat was back on but unbuttoned, flaps falling open to show off a black tank top and an impressive rack. She was curvier than he was expecting, not heavy but soft and rounded in all the right places.

"You were amazing up there!" Ethan was falling all over himself to get to Molly. Tom couldn't help but chuckle as he moved out of his friend's way. "You can really wail."

"Thanks," she nodded, out of breath as she held the water bottle up to her forehead, the condensation apparently cooling her face.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Ethan all but begged.

"No thanks."

"Oh come on, one drink won't hurt you," his friend pleaded, placing a hand on her forearm. "You deserve one after that."

"No thank you."

"But you don't know what you're missing, beautiful."

Molly turned to Tom, her green eyes alight with something between amusement and fury. "Call off your friend before he gets hurt."

"Ethan," he warned. "Enough."

Ethan let his hand fall from her arm, the look of disappointment in his face almost laughable.

"Thanks," she laughed, winking at him before wandering off into the crowd.

"She's really something," Ethan crooned, Tom nodding in acknowledgment as he watched her disappear into the crowd.