Chapter Text
At 21 years old you own a bookshop in downtown Nashville with your best friend Ingrid. You have an apartment above it where you live with your cat Andrey and your lizard Natasha. You are well versed in many works of prose and philosophy. However, the music scene in Nashville is not lost on you. You found that singing in smoky jazz lounges was a nice way to fill a Saturday evening. They never pay much, it was purely for the vibes.
You were consistently playing a record in the store, a giant cherry wood cabinet stretched across the entirety of the back wall behind the counter which is where you spent that vast majority of your time. You were a true believer in the vibes, so the bookshop always had a cozy and comforting demeanor about it for the sake of your sanity and sales. You loved the color green and photography had always been something she had meant to pick up, but never did.
Your friend Simon, who was right across the alley, owns a diner called “Beth’s place”, but everyone just calls it “the hole.” No matter how long Simon spent scrubbing that damn checkered floor, that place was never clean, I assume it was nice at some point in time. Back when the place had a more “mom and pop” vibe, but now it is just, well, the hole. He was the third generation to keep that place up so you figured he had damned it all to hell once or twice before. His fear of his ancestors looming over his shoulders in disapproval is too much for him to handle, so, he keeps scrubbing. Simon was the tall lanky type, more freckles than a banana left in the sun, a ginger to the bone, he had a feisty temper and a passion for arguments. You got along well. The diner was accessible through a small side door in the back of the shop that you frequented often. Sometimes Simon would bring her doughnuts or fries, other times he just came over wanting to go get a drink.
You would go roller-skating with your friend Ingrid who was from Sweden and then would stop in to have a smoke with Simon and Joey on the roof. Joey was one of a kind, if he wasn't such a dick all the time you would think he was a refined gentleman. Standing at exactly six feet he towered over you, he used this to his advantage, constantly using you as an armrest during conversations. If he wasn’t such a dick you might even think he was handsome with his dark hair and his bright blue eyes, but then he would say something along the lines of “You’re all a bunch of ass scratchers” while he sat on your nice couch, reeking of weed, and you changed your mind. He was a freelance piano teacher who always complained about the rich pricks that enlisted his services, saying they were a bunch of nobodies pretending to be better than him. When one of us reminded him that they paid him he got defensive and rolled another joint so we would just shut up.
Ingrid is pretty, she has blonde hair and a full face, you two were best friends, attached at the hip. She is a dedicated journalist who spends most of her time in the shop reading or writing for her next story. She had you proofread all of her work and would not send anything to her editor before you had looked over it saying that she respected your opinion more than someone that was paid to edit her writing. She would come over almost everyday, you listened to records, you smoked, you read, you drank tea, tis a vicious cycle of camaraderie.
“Samantha! Are you fucking ready yet?” Joey called out to you, he was sitting on your damn couch, probably flipping through shit he was not supposed to see. Ingrid stood next to you while you sat in the sink trying to put on your mascara, it was not cooperating to say the least. You made eye contact through the mirror and both rolled your eyes. “Goddammit Joe do have any fucking patience?” you turned your attention back to your reflection. “ rövhål” Ingrid muttered under her breath. “Not for this shit” you heard Joey call from your living room, this time you chose to ignore him. You leaned back from the mirror inspecting your final makeup “Good?” Ingrid smiled, “good” you exited the bathroom.
“Hands-fucking-off.” You shouted as you saw Joey reach for Natasha. Joey rolls his eyes in an exaggerated manner, “You’re neighbors adore you don’t they?” You flip him off and march to your room. Simon passed out on your bed, he had crashed here the night before, “Hey asshole!” You say in a cheery tone as you open the curtains that he had closed, “time to go!” He raised his hand in protest, “why?” Dumbass. “Because the concert is about to start we need to move if we want to be anywhere near the barricade.” You pull on his foot and he finally gets up after Andrey jumps on his back. You blow the cat a kiss and Simon follows you out of the room with a sneer painted on his lips. He hates that damn cat.
You made it to the car. You all made Joey drive. And there was naturally a squabble over who gets to play the music, you had to wrestle the aux cord out of Joey’s iron grasp. You put the Foo Fighters discography on shuffle and smiled happily the whole way there and eventually Joey had to wipe the sneer off of his face because you did have a great taste in music. And you were going to a Foo Fighters concert, it only made sense that you listen to them on the way there. He hated that he had to agree.
Ingrid and Simon made their way up to the barricade while you forced Joey to go with you to get drinks for everyone. You happily dragged Joey along making him listen to every piece of Foo Fighters trivia that you knew. He pretended to hate every second of it. You eventually got sidetracked about Foo Fighters and ended up discussing the notion that people had fabricated that metal music leads to violence. “Like, it literally does not, anytime I wanna punch someone in the face I go to my room, shut the door, I listen to some Megadeth and I come back a happier person.” Your statement is clean and concise, “You do that often?” he said with a smirk. “Only after I hang out with you” you said with a shit-eating grin.
You head back to the barricade and after a few minutes of looking you can’t find Simon or Ingrid. You look up at Joey, about to ask him what you should do when some guy comes up behind you and starts to touch you. You scream at him to fuck off, but he doesn’t listen. Joey realizes what's happening and he quickly steps in and yells at the guy, “Hey! Kindly fuck the hell off would ya?” The scum runs his eyes up and down Joey and then scampers away with an annoyed expression, Joey had foiled his scheme.
The interaction left you feeling grimy and disgusting, but you tried your hardest to push those feelings away. Joey leaned down and laid a hand on our shoulder, “Hey, are you alright?” For the moment he had discarded his dick costume and was being genuine. “Yeah, I’m fine” you say although it is not very convincing, he takes it and you both turn your attention back to finding Simon and Ingrid.
“Goddamnit! Where the fuck are they?” you were genuinely frustrated, you tried calling both of them but they just would not pick up and they hadn't stayed in the spot that you told them to stay in. “Probably making out in a bathroom somewhere” Joey stated bluntly, you slapped his arm, “Not funny.” He laughed, personally finding the idea of Simon, a lanky, kind weirdo, making out with Ingrid who looked like she had stepped out of a swimsuit advertisement, hilarious.
“Wait is that-'' His sentence was cut off by the lights shutting off leaving everyone in darkness. You stuck your hand out in his direction searching for him in the murky sea of people that was far harder to navigate in the dark by yourself. However, when you had reached out and expected to find Joey, you accidentally touched some girl’s boob. “Sorry!” You blurted out instinctively “You're good girl!” She said with an air of nonchalance as the world around you was engulfed in darkness.
You weren’t usually like this, but the people, the lack of lighting, and the absence of your friends was starting to make you nervous and all you wanted to do was find your friends and give Ingrid her goddamn drink already. You had already downed yours in an attempt to calm your nerves. “Ingrid!” Nothing. “Simon!” Nothing. “Joey?” Nothing and people swarmed and squirmed around you. You fought the urge to curl up into a ball on the floor.
Naturally, the creepy fuck from before who had left a residue on the skin he had touched was suddenly back. You felt his hands start on your thigh. Then your waist. You were almost frozen in fear, but trying your hardest to move away from him. Then a voice came out of the sea, “Are you alright?” A man, mid 20’s, tall, with a beard, handsome, and a little intimidating stood before you. You tried to speak but words would not exit your mouth. Your look of fear was enough. “Hey man get the hell off her” He yelled. The man would not move. You tried to fight but his hands would not leave you “Get off please.” You said to the gross man burying himself in the flesh that was available to him. Then in an instant he was off. In a flash a man had come up from behind the one with a beard and had thrown this man to the ground.
There was a woman, you remember thinking that she is pretty, she grabbed your hand and said some words you couldn’t hear. The next thing you know you are being led out of the crowd by these people. A woman and two men. This was all a little confusing and you really didn’t know what to do with yourself. You held onto Ingrid’s drink for dear life as you were being led . . . backstage? This didn’t seem right but who were you to argue?
You hate it when you get like this. Unable to speak words forming in your brain, unable to leave your mouth. They sat you down in a backroom and handed you a water bottle. One of the men (viscerally handsome) knelt down in front of you and asked if you were okay. You snapped. “Yes, I - I’m fine, where the hell am I?” He smiled warmly, “We took you to a backroom, is that alright?” More than alright you thought. You push the thought away “Yes, that is so fine. Sorry if I caused any trouble.” You say as you try to stand up but your legs are shaky for whatever reason. The curly haired man held his arm out for you to grasp. God stop overreacting you thought.
“You did not cause any trouble, okay, are you alright?” You were caught off guard by this simple gesture and his willingness to care for someone he had never met. “I don’t know I’m sorry” you say lowering yourself back on to the seat. “That's fine, now, what is your name?” You look into his dark brown eyes, like coffee and honey, the artful arch of his nose hitting the light just right, “Sam” you say absent mindedly. “Hey! That's so cool, we have the same name!” You hear the man with a beard exclaim, the beautiful woman smiles at him, the curly haired stranger looks back at you. “Okay, Sam, did you come with any friends?” A thought briefly flashes in your mind. Oh God this beautiful human being thinks I came to a concert without any friends, that is so embarrassing for me. Holy shit.
“Yes, I did but I lost them and I can’t find them back” You said with a mild amount of panic in your voice that you were trying your hardest to conceal. It wasn’t working. “Okay, that’s fine, do you want to hang with us until you find them?” You were hesitant, you didn’t know these people and you only knew one of their name’s. But then again, they had saved your ass. “If it’s not too much of a burden . . .” You say trailing off already suspecting rejection or disappointment in your answer. You were surprised when you were met with happy smiles “Wonderful!”
This was so bizarre. “Oh, you know Sam already but I’m Hannah and that’s Danny” the pretty woman said, and you offered her a nod of gratitude for the clarification. Ugh, Danny, you thought. You told your thoughts to go to hell. “Are you okay to go? We can wait a few more minutes if you aren’t ready yet.” You felt so embarrassed, these nice people were already taking you under their wing because your dumbass didn’t know how to keep track of your own goddamn friends, and now you were ruing the concert for them. “Oh my God, yes. Sorry, let's go” you say standing up but your legs still will not cooperate for whatever reason . Danny instinctively grabs your waist to keep you from falling. A pink hue dusts the top of your cheekbones and the tips of your ears. God, are you stupid.
“Sorry.” You let out bashfully. “Don’t worry he doesn’t mind.” Sam’s voice rings in your ears. Danny nods as if to confirm what Sam had said. His eyes are just so soft, you imagine crawling inside them and dying. He keeps his hand on your waist to steady you. “I promise I only had one drink” you say timidly. He smiles down on you like a gracious god. “I believe you.” It was weird, with the people you hang out with you were expecting some quippy response, something to the effect of “uh huh sure ya did” and you wouldn’t hear the end of it for three weeks. But he was nice. He didn’t have to wear a dick costume to talk to you. It was refreshing.
You made it back to the pit and you were still a little nervous that the creepy scum would come back to crawl up your leg again, but you figured he is probably as good as dead with how hard his head hit the floor. Danny refused to leave your side, he suddenly had obtained this innate need to protect you and make sure you were okay. He thought about picking you up, taking you home and . . . His thoughts were cut off by your voice, “Thank you.” You were starting to think the bartender put more in your drink than you thought. Danny wanted to wrap you up in bubble wrap in your fragile state, “Your welcome.” It was not said verbally, but the words hung heavy between them. He pulled you close and started to sway with you as you laid your head on his chest and the starting notes of Lover, You Should Have Come Over rang out and Violet Grohl’s voice sewed heaven as you knew it into the fabric of reality.
Just like that you heard your name called once, twice, three times. Your head snapped up when you realized it was Joey. “Joey?” You raised your head off Danny’s chest “Samantha?” Simon. You moved your eyes up to meet Danny’s. A pre-apology written in your iris’. Just like that, someone’s hand clapped down on your shoulder and whipped you around to face them. It was Joey. Shocker. “Where the fuck did you go you little shit?” He yelled over the music. “Where the fuck did I go? Where the fuck did you go? The lights went down and you were just fucking gone!” You stabbed your finger into his ribs to properly punctuate your words. “And you two!” You said turning your attention to Simon and Ingrid “You did not stay where I fucking told you to stay.” Ingrid was almost man-handling you, moving your arms and turning you head to check to see if you were hurt.
“Who the fuck is this?” You heard Joey ask, he was always getting weirdly protective of you around other people, only to turn around and be a dick to you the second you were alone. “This very nice man’s name is Danny.” You said matter-of-factly because you knew this would turn into debate over his honor if you didn’t lay the groundwork now.
The show was over. You turned on your heel, stood on your tippy toes and planted a chaste kiss on Danny’s cheek “Thank you” you whispered in his ear before turning back to your friends who were all in varying states of confusion and in Ingrid’s case, approval. Danny was in such a state of shock that all he could manage to do was wave to you after you had walked away.
“I don’t understand why you have your panties in a wad” You stated bluntly, Joey was being weirdly controlling and overprotective and you were not a fan in the least. “It’s not my fucking fault you vanished so I really don’t understand why you are mad at me!” The drive home was bound to be filled with drunken arguments. You hated it. You shut down, you stop talking, you cling to Ingrid and she is giving you the look of “yes we will talk about this later.”
You made it back to the hole and followed tradition to a T. Three of you walked to the back of the diner in silence, one of you won’t shut the fuck up. You all climb up the ladder to the roof. He won’t shut the fuck up. You roll a joint, light it and shove it in his mouth like a grown man’s pacifier, he accepts it. He finally shut the fuck up. You laid out on your back allowing your limbs to stretch, Ingrid and Simon followed suit. Joey sat erect, still pissed off for whatever reason. Ingrid reached for her phone and Billie Holiday’s voice poured out into the night.
You threw your hand up in the air as a way of asking for the joint. Joey obliged for once. You took a long and thoughtful drag as the last notes of April in Paris soothed your ears. You handed the joint back to Joey who passed it to Simon. They sat like that for two hours. Smoking, passing, rolling. The endless cycle of camaraderie. Joey finally relaxed a bit and laid back against the flat roof of the diner. The stars were especially beautiful tonight. The summer air kissed their skin leaving damp spots on their skin and clothes. It was normal. They had all done this so many times. Usually it involved more banter but no one was in the mood.
“I’m sorry.” The words rang out like an alarm waking everyone up too soon. They were spat out of his mouth like they tasted bad and he was tired of holding them behind his teeth. "Joey, I already told you. It’s not your damn fault I’m sorry I yelled at you. Okay? I’m sorry, I was just frazzled in the moment. I didn’t mean all of that” The silence ensued. Joey broke through, “Did you at least get his number?” You let out a long sigh and everyone erupted into infectious laughter. “För helvete Sam! Vad fan är det för fel på dig? You held your sides, you felt like you were splitting in two. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! “I’m sorry! I didn’t even think about it, okay? The only thing running through my head was Oh God, do not pee down your leg” They erupted, they smoked, they almost fell asleep but then they all opted to crash at Sam’s.