One Minute

One more hour. Bending over the bathroom sink, I try to rack my thoughts. I look up and stare at the olive skinned girl that stands before me. My wayward, chestnut hair is messily restrained in a pony tail. I glance once more in the mirror. Stupid bangs. You must not fall asleep with wet hair.
Making my way back, I coolly stand behind the bar and look over at the crowd of people that surround me. Some are young, some are older. Some are familiar faces, some are strangers. The atmosphere of the bar has now turned calmer since the last band played.
Every Friday, the Coyote Bar hosts live performances for bands in the surrounding area of Seattle. This typically would entail a good time with a too-high drinking bill -- but it did bring in a lot of tips (Which I needed in this moment considering I just paid my rent and was extremely broke). Around the corner, a voice calls me.
“Hey, great job tonight Jess! You really saved this bar’s ass tonight!” My boss chuckles. Richard was an interesting boss to say the least, but hands down the coolest one yet. Before owning Coyote, he was a hot-shot music producer settled in the heart of New York in the late 70’s. I respected the guy, really. He was the only sense of a fatherly figure I had in my life.
“It’s all part of the job,” I smiled, exhausted. “Oh, hey Richie! Did you get my request about taking off next weekend?”
“Yes, I did! You’re good to go sweetheart.” he smirks and walks back to the stage to help the last band clean up. I didn’t get to watch any of the bands perform tonight since I was too busy working behind the bar.
With the night settling down, I keep busy, shining glasses behind the bar, allowing my brain to decompress. I need to start packing. Next weekend I would be flying from Seattle to Phoenix as a surprise for my best friend’s birthday. This would be the first time I’ve been back home since I left to study at Seattle Pacific three years ago.
I lightly sway my hips to the groove of what sounds like The Rolling stones faintly playing over the PA system. A familiar voice catches my attention.
“Damn, she’s still got the moves.” I turn around, nearly giving myself a heart attack.
“No fucking way,” I say coolly. “Garrett freaking Nickelson. I thought you dropped of the face of the planet years ago!”
“Back and better than ever Jay-dee.” Ugh. I hated that nickname. He steps back, arms open wide as if signalling me to look at him fully.
Garrett and I met six years back at a family cookout. He was two years older than me, but felt like a brother. After he graduated, we didn’t really keep touch anymore.
“Wow, look at you! What's been up with you, Garrett?” I asked.
“Still slapping the bass, haha. Remember that band I was trying to put together towards the end of highschool? Man, Jay-dee,” He smiled as he spoke. “We got signed and we’ve now released two full-length albums!”
“That’s awesome!” I high fived him from over the bar.
“I know right?! Now we’re just finishing up tour and then we’ll start working on a third album!” He smiled from ear to ear.
“Wow, Gare. I’m so happy for you.” Seconds after, two unfamiliar boys come up and join Garrett at the bar.
“Geez, man. How long does it take to get a beer?” A gingered freckled man in a denim shirt joked. He looks up at me. “I’m sorry ma’am, is he bothering you - Oww!” Garrett cuts him off, punching him in the shoulder.
“Shut up, Jared. This is my friend from back home, Jay-dee” He introduces me. Jared reaches out a hand.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jay-dee.” He flashes a cheeky smile in my direction.
“It’s Jess.” I shoot a glare in Garretts direction. “No one has called me that in years, dude.” I extend a hand to the other unfamiliar face who stands to the left of Garrett. “Jess.” I say warmly.
“Kennedy! You can call me Ken though.” He smiles. I remember one of them saying something earlier about a beer.
“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” I ask. “My treat.”
“Yes,” Jared exhales. “I’ll take a budweiser, please.”
“Coming right up!”

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I stand with the boys at the bar and listen in on their stories of being on the road and playing at the different venues. They all look so happy together, like they’re brothers or something. They remind me of home. I question the nostalgic feeling of being back at home.
Glancing down at my phone, I notice I have three missed calls from my mother. I roll my eyes, she always calls at the worst times. I check the time. Two more minutes. Im shortly brought back to reality when I hear Jared speak up.
“Speaking of John, has anyone seen him?”
“Nope,” Kennedy says, accentuating the pop. “Probably flirting with someone new tonight.” The three boys laugh. From the distance I hear my boss call out, catching the last of the people in the bar’s attention.
“Alright, folks. Bar’s closed for the night, come back tomorrow!” Finally, I’m done. I put my hand down on the bar between me and the boys.
“I don’t mean to kick you boys out, but I’m officially off duty and my bed is calling my name.”
“Damn, Jess. I thought we were really starting to kick it off.” Kennedy whimpers, jokingly. The three boys exchange their salutes my way and head out towards the front.
“Nice seeing you Jay-dee!” I roll my eyes at Garrett, waving goodbye.
I turn my back to the now empty bar, resting my hand at the base of my very sore neck. I must go to a chiropractor before this kills me.

After clocking out, I grab my black worn down jean jacket and collect my tips for the night. Not bad. Making my way outside of the bar, I snag a smoke from my pocket and lean up against the brick wall. The air outside is light and comforting, allowing my mind to be at ease.
“Need a light?” A raspy voice from my right catches me off guard. Wow. The voice belonged to a tall, slim man with messy hair pushed back. He extends his hand forward, igniting a flame with his lighter. My skin instantly feels hot.
Without a word, I lean in, resting one hand lightly on his and spark my cigarette, inhaling deep. Woah. There is a static shock that travels from my neck down to the small of my back. He smirks faintly, lighting a smoke of his own. We stand in silence.
Leaning my shoulders back against the cold brick wall, I look over the stranger, taking in his appearance. His black jeans hang low on his hips, paired with a red flannel and black boots. I’m just able to make out the faint distinction of words through the opening of his flannel. I wonder what he looks like without his shirt. My breath catches in my throat at the thought.
We both lean against the wall, not a word spoken between us. I focus my attention on him and his composure. It’s sort of intimidating, the way he holds himself as he stares off at the city that surrounds us. It’s almost like he’s forgotten that I’m standing right here. Oh.
Feeling foolish, I stand up straight and start making my way towards my apartment without bothering to look back. The stranger says nothing to my dismissal. I really was tired and I needed to go to bed, and pack. Crap.
As I walk back to my apartment, I'm lost in thought of the stranger. Why didn’t he say something? I should’ve introduced myself. I probably wasn’t his type anyways. Usually I’m friendly and conservative, but I didn’t know what to do back there. I’ve never been so affected by a stranger like that before. I cut myself off from thinking any deeper once arriving to my apartment.

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I dig my keys out of my pocket, quietly walking in. It’s a late Friday night here in Seattle. Here, I live with three other girls; Rose, Cassidy, and Ashley. Together, we all work at the Coyote, so we understand the late night shifts. Making my way into the kitchen, I see Ashley making a late night snack as she reads from one of her chunky textbooks.
“Hey Ash,” I sigh. “Why’re you still up?”
“Can’t sleep. How was the bar tonight?” Ashley and I met back in highschool and were roommates our freshman year of college. When we decided it was time to move out of the dorms, we rented a four person apartment up on 3rd Avenue with two other girls that we worked with.
“Busier than hell. But hey, guess who I ran into!” The excitement in my voice catches her attention and she looks up. “Garrett Nickelson!” She shoots me a are-you-kidding look my way. “Yeah, apparently he’s doing really well with the music stuff. He and his two other bandmates are finishing up touring and such,” She laughs. “What?”
“There’s five of them, not three. Tim’s little brother is their drummer. They’ve all been real good friends since they grew up together back in Tempe.” Yes, that's right. Tim was Ashley’s boyfriend and grew up in the same area as us. “You said you met two others?”
“Oh yeah!” I pause for a minute trying to remember their names. “Jared and Kennedy… er, I mean Ken.” My thoughts wander back to the tall stranger causing my cheeks to flush scarlet. I should’ve said something. My thought are quickly interrupted.
“They’re real nice guys. There is also Patrick, Tim’s younger brother, and John, their singer. You didn’t see them there?”
“Not to my knowledge.” I bite my lip.
“Im sure you’ll get to meet them at Michelle’s birthday! I’ll be sure to introduce you guys.” Ashley sends me a reassuring smile. She was flying home with me tomorrow and so far, she was the only one who knew I was coming home. This should be interesting.
She gets up from the bar stool and heads down the hall towards her bedroom, leaving me alone in the kitchen. As I sit in silence, I trace back to the stranger who I met just under an hour ago. I’m greeted again with that familiar shock, starting at the base of my neck and traveling down my spine. I should’ve introduced myself. Dammit.