A Sparrow of the Dawn / Josh Kiszka

7

One month later

The bar teemed with noise, and I wondered how many people in the crowd would actually like our music. It was a small gig and the stage was creaking a bit under our weight, but nonetheless, I still wanted to make sure we at least tried to perform as our very best selves.

Simon was setting up sound, and I had waltzed over to the bar, reassuring Simon I wouldn't get drunk before our performance, and then immediately ordering a light roast with coffee grounds from Madeira in it. What can I say, the bartender was very convincing.

I looked up, and toasted Simon nonchalantly, and then cocked my head to the side when a middle-aged man saddled up right beside me. He smelled like the cheese you were supposed to throw out months ago, but forgot to because it's not all-too-important. The stubble on his chin had bumps throughout it, as if he didn't know how to shave properly. But the real kicker was that his cargo pants had stains all over them, and the tank top he was wearing looked like he dragged it out of the dumpster.

"All alone? No woman this pretty should be all alone. Is this seat taken sweetheart?"

"Fuck off grandpa."

He growled, and then came closer to my ear while whispering

"Mm, you might want to change your answer." His breath smelled horrible.

I turned my head, and he was mere inches away. From the look on his face, he didn't expect my fist to come crashing across his right cheek. And when it did, his whole body swung to the right the force of my punch. I smiled internally, those boxing lessons really paid off.

"Barkeep! Get her out of here! The little bitch socked me!" 

The bartender looked up, made eye contact with the security guard, and shrugged towards the man. He was seized immediately, and the look of shock on his face gave me inexplicable amounts of joy.

"Oh come on! The bitch punched me! Fuck you! She should be thrown out! Bitch! Fuck you!"

The security guard dragged him all the way out and then I heard the bartender mumble

"Sounds like you got what was coming douche."

I winked at him and downed the rest of my drink, letting the warm burn carry me to the dimly-lit stage.

/

I looked out into the crowd as I adjusted my mic stand, and was momentarily lost in the faces of people that had gathered in front of the stage, sipping drinks and waiting for the music to start. Some of them were laughing with the people next to them, some were zoning out, and some were just watching Simon and I on stage. Knowing that all of these people had lives just like me always made me think. We were all here, in the same bar, on the same day, having completely different emotions and experiences. I found that it was comforting to think about when I got stressed out about trivial details, like the setlist or Simon's current girlfriend or how 50% of the band's success depended on me. I had always said I would write a book about that one day, but it probably wouldn't happen. I usually couldn't sit still for shit, so when I did, it was an accomplishment. 

"Genevieve!"

I snapped back and blinked several times to see Simon throwing his hands up and yell at me, getting dangerously close to throwing his drumsticks. He always got this stressed look in his eyes when I wasn't following his meticulous schedule.

"We gotta start!" He shouted over the noise of the crowd, gesturing his arm to the people I was just observing.

I nodded and faced him as I played the first chord, letting him lead the song.