• Tomorrow Will Be Different • {J.C} (P.1)

• Chapter Twenty-Three •

        As soon as their set was over, Julian jumped off the stage. He made his way through the crowd—struggling through the swarm of bodies as they pulled and grabbed at his clothes; along with non-consensual embraces he tried kindly brushing away.

Julian saw Erin in the crowd during the performance; she was there—she had actually made it. He wasn't sure why, but he had a dire need to speak to her—he needed her unfiltered criticism.

        He hadn't been able to find her. After several rounds and talking to high praising strangers, Julian finally came to the conclusion that Erin had left the venue.

His high hopes had plummeted, knowing it would be another week or so before seeing her again—when she had time to phrase her criticisms constructively.

Jules had wanted her raw assessment of their performance—not the thoughtful, filtered version.

       Then he saw her; she was sitting at the bar—visibly more comfortable than the last time he saw her sitting at the end of a bar.

She was wearing a white lace V-neck crop top and high waisted light wash jeans. There was something different about her—something Julian hadn't noticed while up on stage.

        "You cut your hair." Julian spoke against Erin's ear. He watched as her eyes widened just before a big smile sprouted across her lips.
        "It looks nice—I like it." The length of her beige tresses were above her shoulders now, with soft layers all throughout.

        "Thanks." Erin moved her eyes back to her drink at the bar—her lips mashed together self-consciously, as if she hadn't wanted anyone to notice what she had done to herself.

        "I thought you left." Julian said as he took the seat next to her.

"I'm actually about to head out. I just wanted to see Al first... tell him how proud I am." She grinned.
     "He's been trying to get me to see you guys play for almost a year, but-" Erin shook her head. "I didn't wanna have to be the one to tell him he was terrible."

        "What'd you think of it? Any... critiques?" Julian finally asked; this was what he had been wanting from her all night...
       ...right?

       "Honestly?" Erin's wide eyes cautiously shifted to Julian in nervousness as a mischievous frown weighed down the corners of her lips.  

For a moment, Julian's heart fell into the pit of his stomach—they played terribly.

     Then, her nervous side eye was suddenly replaced with an impish grin. "You guys were amazing. The music—everyone's stage presence—you guys... you guys are incredible, I mean it."

        Julian suddenly felt immense relief; however, it was short lived. He instantly deflated while watching Erin gaze around the crowded venue—obviously searching for a reason to leave.

        "Are you coming back to our place, or are you staying with..." Julian trailed; he was unsure of what to call him—unsure of how serious their relationship had become.

"I gotta go back to his place, I don't have a key to your place. I can't sleep in my car—I still haven't been able to find my keys. I have bad luck with keys... apparently."

        Julian's mouth slightly opened to speak, but the words weren't coming out. He had been meaning to tell Erin about her car, but hadn't found the right opportunity.

Jules could swear that he lost brain cells each time he seen her. The mere sight of her caused him to go stupid—his thoughts coming out in broken sentences as he stumbled over his words, trying to say something coherent.