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Faye pulled her jean jacket tightly against her body as she watched her breath cloud in the night air. She chastised herself mentally for being unprepared; she had known full well that it was freezing outside and that they would be walking for five blocks to the bar. Logic had told her that she'd have a nice beer blanket to come home with, and wouldn't need to wear many layers. Reality said that she was going to catch pneumonia before she'd had her first drink.
"I've never seen the Fiery Furnaces before, I hear they're good live." Marten told her. Faye glanced at him from the corners over her eyes. His hands were shoved in to the pockets of his black hoodie, his shoulders slumped forward slightly.
"Did you hear that from the kids at MILF?" Faye cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes," scowled Marten. "But I've also heard it online."
"I'll bet." Faye scoffed. "And when we get home you can write a long winded review of it using words that stopped being used in the 1900's."
"If I'm lucky I can buy a t-shirt, and get a picture with the band to post with it." Marten grinned.
"Don't forget to mention that you liked them before this album, and that you wish they had played more older songs." Faye said, holding a finger out in the air as though it were a crucial point.
"And depending on how they play I can add 'If I weren't already a fan I may have enjoyed it, but as a fan I found it to be extremely disappointing to watch.'" He added. Faye snickered.
"Remember back when we played the scenester shot game?" Faye reminisced on old times from when they had first become friends.
"If we did that now we'd both die of alcohol poisoning before we even entered the bar." Marten groaned. "I think it's best to ignore them and listen to the music."
"I think it's best to punch them all in the face and watch them cry." She grinned broadly and crashed a fist in to her hand in a menacing manner.
"You always think that is best." Marten smirked.
"If it isn't broken why fix it?" Faye shrugged noncommittally.
Marten rolled his eyes and continued walking silently besides her.
The front of the bar was the same as it had been years prior; dodgy and questionable. Just how Faye liked her bars. Despite having become a gathering ground for trendy scenesters it hadn't changed a bit. The walls were archaic wood panelling with holes from staples and nails that had been slammed in to hold up posters for concerts and events. Hot air that smelled strongly of cloves and body oder accosted her nose, causing her lips to curl up in an amused smirk.
"Five points if you hit them, Fifty if you make them cry." Faye said. She playfully hit Marten's arm to get his attention while looking around the crowd lazily.
"What do I get if I make them run out of the bar?" Marten asked.
"You'll have to do better than that if you expect anything special." Faye scoffed.
"I should have known it would." He laughed. "Do you want to go to the bar, or find a spot to stand?"
"The bar." Faye pointed to the already crowded bar. It was a sea of tight jeans and ripped oversize shirts. "I am going to need a lot more to drink if I'm going to enjoy this."
"At least they're not in mini skirts and ugg boots." Marten countered. Faye turned to him with a frown.
"We both know that you liked that trend." Faye said. She grabbed his cold hand and pulled him through the crowd forcefully, using her shoulder and elbow as a weapon to wedge her way past.
"No man will honestly say he doesn't like mini skirts; it's a blatant lie. But why the boots? There is nothing practical or sexy about seeing someone shivering." Marten shook his head.
"That's not what you said last night." Faye snickered.
"Ha. Ha."
"I'll get the drinks, you find a table." Faye directed him.
"Why do I always have to find the table?" Marten demanded.
"Because I have bigger boobs than you do, so I'm more likely to get a free drink." Faye explained exasperatedly.
"And here I thought you'd stop asking men for drinks when we started dating." Marten rolled his eyes.
"I told you to put on some makeup and we could get free drinks together. It's not my fault that you found that to be a bad date idea." Faye shrugged.
"Excuse me." He said in response.
Faye pulled off her jacket and held it over one arm as she straightened out her shirt. Her back tingled with the sensation of being watched; it was either Marten watching after her in a territorial sense, or someone else that was probably looking at her butt. She shrugged it off and pushed to the bar.
"I'd like a Whiskey on the rocks and a Vodka and Cran." Faye demanded, slamming her money on to the bar while wedging herself between two stools. A blonde girl in the seat besides her looked annoyed.
"That'll be $8.50." The bar tender said before he rushed about behind the bar to make their drinks.
He slid the drinks over and grabbed the $10 bill. Faye grabbed her whiskey and took a drink as she waited for him to return with her change.
"Here you go." He slid her change over. She grabbed the 50 cents and left the dollar. "Thank you."
Faye held both drinks in her hands and maneuvered her way through the small bar that was packed tighter than the fat girl in hot pink spandex that was standing in her way.
"Excuse me." Faye shoved the girl out of the way as she made her way through.
"Bitch." The woman glowered angrily.
Faye brushed the insult away and continued to search for the tall, lanky man that she had come with. A warm tingling sensation coursed through her veins when she saw him. Marten had found a small table that had decent view of the stage, though unfortunately it was besides a table filled with very inebriated college girls.
Normally a woman would worry when a group of scantily clad hussies were throwing themselves at their boyfriend, but one look at Marten's face made her want to laugh out loud. His normally pale skin was redder than a tomato, and he was waving his hands in the air frantically.
Marten's eyes scoured the crowd looking like a lost puppy dog. He narrowed his eyes when he spotted Faye watching with an amused expression. She sighed and walked the rest of the way to the table, where the girls were giggling loudly and complimenting him on his band shirt.
"Stop flirting with my boyfriend." Faye growled, slamming their drinks on the table.
The girls looked up in surprise. Faye narrowed her eyes and sneered at them.
"Oh." "We're sorry." "We had no idea he had a girlfriend."
They pulled back towards their table, inching away from the couple. Faye smirked proudly as she took the chair besides Marten.
"Was that necessary?" Marten asked darkly.
"Sorry." Faye said. She lifted her drink from the table and took a sip before looking up to the stage. "Next time I see girls flirting with you I will leave you to them."
"That's not what I meant." Marten said.
"I'm going to pretend I have no idea what you're talking about." Faye announced. She looked down to her glass that was now almost entirely ice; drinks always disappeared much too fast.
"Was it necessary for you to stand there and watch?" Marten grabbed his drink, spinning the small straw to mix the cranberry juice with the vodka.
"You know how much I love to watch you wiggle uncomfortably." Faye said cheekily.
"How could I forget. It's your favorite hobby." He groaned.
"You complain more than a Morrissey song." Faye snickered.
The lights lowered and the bar fell relatively silent as everyone turned their attention to the stage.
"If you don't like it you can leave." Marten responded, his eyes glistened with enjoyment at their banter.
"We just renewed our lease so we're stuck together for at least another year." Faye said as she continued to focus on the empty stage. Bright lights flashed on it and instruments were set up along the sides for whatever band it was that was opening.
Her skin prickled cooly. Faye turned from the still empty stage to look at Marten. He was watching her with great intensity.
"Do I have a zit?" Faye reached up to rub the side of her face despite knowing that she didn't have anything on her face.
"I was just thinking about the first time we met here." Marten turned his eyes to his glass and took a large drink.
"Are you getting sentimental on me?" Faye groaned. "I thought we agreed that all expressions of love were to be in the form of alcohol, sex, or punching."
He rolled his eyes and laughed. He reached up and punched her arm lightly. She glanced down to where he had punched and smiled.
"Me too."