A Note for My Head Asking What My Heart Said

“It is so weird being here this early,” Kat noted, adjusting her spiky hair in the mirror. Zel closed her locker and tried to swallow the rising terror in her stomach. “Plus all those kids outside, waiting in the snow…” She turned and smiled at her coworker’s expression. “What’s up, Zel?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she replied, waving a hand and picking at her hair in the mirror again. Kat nodded, unbelieving, and sat down to lace up her shoes “It’s just…” She looked up to find Zel tugging anxiously at her surprisingly low-cut shirt. She winced. “Do I… look alright?”

Kat tilted her head. “Yeah, kid. You look really hot.” Her smile twisted into a smirk. “Why?”

Zel shrugged and pulled at her hair, not in its usual ponytail. “Just wondering.” She swung her locker shut and jerked her head towards the door. “C’mon. It’ll be interesting not being the youngest person here.”

Up until the doors opened, their shift was like any other opening shift at Monday’s, with the exception of more noise drifting in from outside. But at eight, the whole demeanour of the building changed. The usual patrons were missing, replaced by teenagers and twenty-somethings all bored, music-loving, and with nothing better to do on a Saturday night.

Everyone working was particularly careful about checking IDs and making sure they were real. Marty insisted upon it. For a while Zel was distracted enough to forget about being nervous. The first band—some local kids— went on, and she watched, amused and tolerating the noise through earplugs.

But her stomach began to flip-flop again when she saw Alex walked through the front door. Something a bit miraculous with the throng of people between them. He looked a little confused at the scene, gazing at the stage for a few long seconds, before casting about the room. Zel jerked back into motion, quickly going back to work, when he caught her eye and walked over.

“What’s going on?” he called over the din after ordering a beer. She looked good, he noticed. Not that she didn’t always, but the effort she put in was obvious, even to him. “Why’d you ask me to come if there’s bands playing?”

She smiled enigmatically. “Go enjoy the show,” she replied, sounding more confident than she felt. “You’ll see eventually.”

The headliner for the evening was a band from New York City called Nightmare of You, one of Zel’s personal favourites. In fact, she had convinced Marty to allow them to play at Monday’s when they were looking for a venue in Baltimore. When they went on, Zel had some time to relax and enjoy the set. She hummed along from behind the bar and watched the audience dance and sing along with the singer, who was quite vibrant and alive himself.

Some of the songs were deviant and at times downright perverse, which surprised Alex. But more than that, he was shocked that Zel was singing along as she worked; he shot her glances through and over the crowd every so often and smiled every time. But every time she turned in his direction he looked back to the band.

The situation was suspicious in his mind—she’d told him to come to the bar on Saturday and be sure he didn’t arrive after nine. Did she want to tell him that she actually did like music? Or did she just want him to hear this band? Maybe it was an excuse to set some common ground? He couldn’t figure it out as he pondered over his beer, but he wanted to know.

The band were thoroughly sweaty midway into their set. “So we don’ get requests much,” the lead singer, Brandon, said as the others tuned up between songs, “An’ even if we did, we wouldn’t do ‘em. But we were, uh,” he chuckled, “Propositioned by one of the lovely bartenders of this fine establishment to play this one.”

Alex raised an eyebrow and glanced over at the bar, where Zel was conveniently missing. “We loved ‘er reason for wanting to ‘ear this, so this one’s for Alex.” Brandon grinned under the lights. “She either loves ya or hates ya, mate, if this song reminds her of you.”

The song started up and Alex waited in anticipation. If a song reminded Zel of him, she both listened to this band enough and thought of him enough to draw a comparison.

“Break it out, just break it out,” the singer began,
“don't hesitate, the dilate
what's your name, what do you do
I'm not that kind of man but I'll make an exception for you

We're flexed and pressed for time alone
Don't stall in the stall
I want to do a little
I want to do it all

But now wait, wait
I'm a gentleman in training
Wait, wait
I'm a professional in feigning love
So go slow
Just go slow.”

Alex chuckled to himself, both at the lyrics and the singer flailing and gesticulating wildly around the stage.

“Voluptuous and finely cut
What will it take to get you up
And dance with me in wistful heat
In this little club between A and B?

We're flexed and pressed for time alone
Don't stall in the stall
I want to do a little
I want to do it all

But now wait, wait
I'm a gentleman in training
Wait, wait
I'm a professional in feigning love

And in the bathroom is where I want you
Against the graffiti wall we know no law at all
Just to see you body in a place so tacky
There's no better irony in my own depravity
So go slow
Go slow.”

Although he found himself tapping his foot in rhythm and incredibly amused by the song, Alex felt something sting with some of the lyrics. Which ones, exactly, made Zel think of him?

“I do want to be in love
I do want to fall in love but I just don't know how to
I do want to be in love
I do want to be in love but I just don't know how to
I don't know how to

And in the bathroom is where I want you
Against the graffiti wall we know no love at all
Just to see you body in a place so tacky
There's no better irony in my own depravity
So just go slow…”

The room erupted in cheers and applause, and Alex looked back at the bar. Zel had returned from the back room, where she’d spent the song pacing, worrying, and laughing, and was trying not to look anywhere but at the glass she was polishing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been a fantastic audience, and this is our last song.”

Alex couldn’t remember the last song later, except that the chorus went something along the lines of “We could go dancing if you want to, but I'd rather take you home./ We could go dancing if you'd rather be a bore.” He was too busy puzzling out the implications of his dedication.

Eventually when the encore was over, he made his way to the bar again. Zel’s heart pounded in her throat as he approached, smirking. “Interesting,” he commented. She shrugged helplessly, and Alex leaned against the counter. “So… what exactly makes you think of me?”

She chuckled to herself as she got another patron a beer. “The gentleman in training part,” she said, smiling wryly at him. “And when we met, you definitely struck me as a professional at feigning love.”

Alex laughed, trailing off as club security—basically Ashley and a couple of his friends hired for the night—began to usher people out. “Funny, I thought you’d say the chorus.”

Zel blushed, glaring at the wink and gestures Kat was giving her. “That too,” she muttered, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. She caught the look his eye and blushed harder. “I’m gonna go ask Marty if I can leave early.”

She made a hasty escape to the back office, where her boss looked mildly suspicious at her request. “I saw that guy here,” he commented. “Something to do with him?” Zel nodded hesitantly, and after a moment Marty smiled. “Go get ‘im, Zel.”

Alex was talking to Ashley when she returned, and the half-nervous expression he wore made her lose her breath laughing. She looped her arm through his and gently pulled him towards the locker room, giving Ashley a big smile; he chuckled and returned to his job.

Once in the employee locker room, Alex grabbed Zel by the hips and kissed her hard. She melted into him and soon found herself pressed up against the wall.

“We can’t do this here,” she said breathlessly, finally managing to break away from his lips.

“Why not?” he challenged, pressing kisses to her neck.

Zel’s knees shook. “Uh… because Katrina’s making dirty hand gestures at us.” Alex looked up and they both stared at Kat, who started giggling maniacally. She walked to her locker, took out her purse, and still laughing, walked out.

Alex’s eyes slowly rolled over to Zel, who wore the same confused, weirded out look. “So… uh…” He cleared his throat and stepped back. “You should, uh…”

“Right,” she whispered, hurriedly going to her locker.

Once she had gathered her things, Zel and Alex walked briskly out to her car, hoping to dodge between the snowflakes. The drove was silent with a tenseness that wasn’t wholly unpleasant. Zel questioned whether she should really take this step. They’d had more bumps than could be healthy in maintaining a relationship, but she couldn’t deny she wanted to make the effort.

Alex tried to remember the details of their encounter in Rian’s basement on her birthday and was eager to get a reminder.

They arrived at her house in record time and rushed inside, but once there time seemed to slow. There was wine and dim lighting and laughing about how cheesy they both were. Alex knew she deserved it, however, and Zel knew he did as well.

Both marveled at how nervous they were, upstairs in her bedroom. Nervous, but happy, and soon nervous slipped away.

It was two in the morning, and Zel was still awake. She should have been exhausted—and she admitted this only to herself, blushing in the dark—and her eyes wouldn’t shut. It was too dark to be sure, but she believed Alex had dozed off a while ago. After all, he had stopped talking.

That usually meant he was asleep.

She started when his phone blared in the silence. Alex groaned under his breath. Who the hell would be calling at this hour? He planted a kiss on Zel’s forehead and leaned out of bed to rifle through his pants for his iPhone.

“Goddammit,” he said in annoyance, squinting at the screen.

“Who is it?” Zel whispered cautiously.

Alex sighed as he reread the text. “Jack. He and Nay are too drunk to get back to her apartment.” He chuckled slightly. “I should make ‘em walk.”

She made a quiet noise of amusement. “Uphill both ways in the snow?” she questioned wryly.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed again, placing his phone on the dresser. They looked at each other, eyes adjusting to the dark, and the gravity of how deep they were in hit them.

It didn’t matter who reached for the other first because they both did and held each other tightly under the sheets. “Don’t leave me,” Zel pled softly after a long time.

Alex opened his eyes, which moved to the window. He could see the snow falling, backlit by the yellow, flickering streetlamp down the street. “I won’t,” he swore.