Busted Lips and Lust-Bruised Hips

Pete sat on the balcony, his feet draped across the railing and his mind dangling across the scene. The buzz of New Years had passed leaving a lethargic lilt to the city. The population now ploughed through their routines with hangovers fogging their minds, that one night a blur that they lost to history. Pete watched the return to normality with a slight lovesick feeling, longing to stretch the smiles, the friends and the atmosphere a little longer into the year. It seemed that as soon his eyes were sealed with sleep that life was re-arranged beyond his consciousness back to the stress and the schedules.
With the grain of strength that he found inside him, Pete pushed himself up from his morbid thoughts and stepped back into the hotel room. Suitcases and dishevelled clothes decorated the room with promises of goodbyes and reminders of the cities and faces yet to be seen. Pete regarded this with a subtle sense of anxiety, feeling the expectations eminate from something as simple as a closed suitcase. Swiping a hoodie from the back of a near-by chair, Pete shook his head at his own nervous mind. He pulled it over himself with a dedicated resignation, knowing that it was pointless to attempt to calm his thoughts. When his mind was racing beyond control, his feet just had to follow.

This time Pete was prepared for the ring echoing over his head as he stepped into the room but his eyes still swept across the scene with a nervous urgency. A smile developed on his expression as his eyes found their way to the counter and his feet began to close the distance between it and him. Standing near the till, he watched the back of the waitress as she served and talked to her customer with a practised ease, never missing a beat from the conversation nor from her work. There was something about her simple comfort that he admired, and was only slightly jealous of, as he watched her. As she finally said her goodbyes and turned to face him, Pete smiled at her surprised expression.

All Amaya could do was laugh at the surprise visit, her hands fluttering helplessly to her uniform in an attempt to straighten herself out somewhat. "What's this?" she asked, a grin taking the place of her laugh. "You turning the tables? Instead of me stalking you, you stalk me?"

Pete laughed slightly as he shrugged. "Something like that, I guess," he answered.

Amaya tilted her head to the side as she briefly analysed Pete. "Well, you're not getting any free drinks out of me this time round." she warned him with mock seriousness.

"Damn. Guess I'd better go then," Pete teased, stepping back.

"Wait there one second," Amaya told him, her hand flashing across the counter to clamp his on it. Reassured by his smile, Amaya cautiously removed her hand from his with a smile of her own. "Take a seat, sweetheart. I'll be with you in a minute."

Pete followed her request, opting a table amongst the shadows clinging to the back of the café rather than sitting under the spotlight of sunshine flowing through the windows. As he waited, he glanced around at his fellow customers, smiling at how the misfit community always managed to gather in the same place, using each other as the glue that kept themselves together. His smile broadened as Amaya walked towards him, two glasses in her hand and a grin painted on her lips.

Placing the glasses on the table, she slid across the booth from him, pausing for a moment to allow the relief to flood to her feet. As the blood returned to them, she smiled across at Pete. "I managed to get my lunch break early." she told him before taking a sip of her drink, watching Pete's appreciative smile develop. Sitting back, she ploughed her fingers through her hair. "So what brings you here?" she asked.

Pete shrugged. "My feet, I guess," he answered.

Amaya laughed as she tucked her legs beneath her. "Sarcasm," she stated. "I love it."

Pete smiled weakly as he glanced at Amaya in thought. "I guess I just needed to see a familiar face in this city." he told her, his voice shy and weighted with truth.

Amaya's smile diminished quickly at that simple confession, her hand falling from her glass to the table in surprise. "Familiar?" she asked, attempting to regain her grin. "You've only seen me three times."

"Four including this one," Pete corrected. With a shrug, he shuffled back from the conversation, scrolling through his mind for a better explanation. "I don't know. I just...I needed to see someone else that I knew in this city...just so...I don't know."

"Just so you didn't feel so swallowed up by it," Amaya finished.

Pete raised his head at Amaya's understanding, a spectre of a smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. How'd you figure it out?"

Amaya laughed slightly, her hand brushing at Pete's statement dismissively. "I know how you feel. I'm new here myself," she explained. "Only moved out a few months ago."

"Where you from originally?" Pete asked.

"Britain. Wales to be exact," Amaya replied with a reminiscent smile.

As Pete watched Amaya drift across the ocean in her mind to her hometown, he frowned slightly. "Why did you move out here?" he questioned.

Amaya shrugged. "School girl adventure. I thought Wales wasn't big enough for my dreams so I got the next plane over here. Turns out I'm not big enough for New York's expectations." Shaking her head suddenly, Amaya looked across at Pete. "Why did we get onto me all of a sudden?" she asked him.

"Because it's nice for once in a while to talk about someone else," Pete explained.

"I bet that microphone looks like a demon sometimes," Amaya sympathised.

"Yeah, but I keep having to go back to it," Pete replied.

Amaya smiled sadly at the bassist, letting the conversation unravel long enough for him to regain an element of his composure. "So why don't you tell me what really dragged you here?" she pressed. "The reason behind wanting to seem some semi-familiar face."

Smiling at her concern, Pete filled out the silence by taking a drink, settling the glass back on the table before he answered. "I don't know. I just woke up a little lost this morning, you know? Like a small boy in a big city and there's no one here to look after me. I just needed someone who knows this place to protect me."

"Well, I'm touched you chose me," Amaya replied quietly. "Even if there was no one else to choose from."

"There were other people," Pete told her. "You just seemed an obvious choice. You seemed like the only person out of the lot not to rain pity on me."

"It's because you don't need pity," Amaya explained. "You just need a little understanding to get your thoughts back to size. Even if it does take a while." she added with a smile.

"Sorry," Pete apologised. "I'm not the best for happy conversations."

With heavy reassurance, Amaya blanketed Pete's hand with her own. "Do you really think that I'd still be sat here if I wanted that?" she asked him. "I know that. In a way, it intrigues me."

"It does?" Pete asked.

"Yeah," Amaya answered, laughing slightly. "In a weird, twisted, kind-of-stalkerish sort of way, it does."

Pete smiled subtly, his eyes glancing down at his and Amaya's hands resting on the table. "Well. Thanks."

"For what? I haven't done anything," Amaya told him.

"You listened," Pete explained. "That's something."

Amaya echoed Pete's smile back to him before gliding her hand off his to clutch at a napkin. "Tell you what." she told him, taking a pen from the front of her apron. Pete watched in confusion as Amaya scrawled across the napkin before handing it to Pete. "I know this may seem like a very cheap ploy at getting you to call me but...here's my number. If you ever need someone to listen again, just phone. You know, if you need someone outside all of the chaos for an unbiased opinion. I'm here." Pete looked down at the napkin in his hand, his emotions a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. As if sensing his moods, Amaya shrugged. "And if you don't want me to know your number, you can always withhold it. It'll be like a prank call. Just...without the prank."

Pete smiled. "I don't know how to thank you for that," he told Amaya.

"You don't have to," Amaya replied. "I'm not doing it for thanks. I'm doing it for you." Glancing down, she checked her watch, a slight groan falling from her lips. "Damn. I've got to head back." Standing up, she hestitating reluctantly at the table. "Well, I guess I'll speak to you soon maybe," she said.

"Yeah. See you," Pete replied, watching Amaya rush back to work, leaving him with another free drink and an escape route.