Swan Song

It Wasn't My Idea

       I sat in my room, phone pressed up against my ear, listening to my friend chatter on the other end. He was the one that bought the tickets to the show, despite my pleads for him to let me pay for my own. Zach had always taken care of me, ever since we were in high school, but I felt terrible for letting him spend so much money to get us general admission tickets to a Hollywood Undead concert. He knew how much I loved the band, and since they were playing in town, which just so happened to be their home town, he demanded that we had to go.

     "Nikki, you don't understand. This is a once in a lifetime thing! How could you possibly feel bad?" He asked me, his voice, though well meaning, was laced with irritation.

     I pressed the heel of my hand into my temple and sighed heavily. "You know how I am, Zach, I'd feel bad if someone held the door for me. I hate when people do things for me because I feel like an inconvenience," I explained for the umpteenth time. I could almost feel his glare from across the line and I knew he was making the same face that he always does when I say that.

     "You do so much for people, why don't you..."

     "...Let someone do something for me for once? Because I don't feel like I deserve it. Now can we change the subject? Talking about my anxieties is giving me a headache," I groaned, finding great interest in a stray thread that had appeared on my bedspread. Zach seemed to agree as he eagerly jumped to another topic, something about gaming that I didn't really understand nor care to listen to, though I appreciated the chatter as I continued to doodle a picture of the guy I had had a crush on since high school, who also happened to be a member of the band I was going to see tonight. Johnny 3 Tears, or at least a graphite version of himself, stared up at me, his steel gaze making my stomach churn. I thought about what it would be like to be with him face to face, his sandpaper voice whispering in my ear as he slipped his shirt off, revealing a broad chest and lean arms decorated with tattoos, holding my gaze as he grinded against me, hot breath.....

     "Nikki? Are you even listening to me?"  Zach questioned, his voice amused, as if he knew what I was thinking about.

     I felt a hot blush creep across my face as I tossed the drawing to the side, unable to look at the face of my idol and celebrity crush any longer.

     "Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," I muttered, falling back onto my bed with a disappointed sigh. From my resting place, I stared eagerly at the clock, taking a moment to tell the time, only to realize with pure joy that there was less than an hour before Zach and I planned on leaving for the concert. The venue was less than a ten minute walk from my apartment building, though we wanted to leave much earlier just to ensure that we had the perfect seats. I jumped up and strolled over to my closet, deciding carefully what I should wear as I listened to Zach's giddy voice jump from one topic to another.

     "Yo, Nikki, I've got to go get ready. Meet you at your place in 10?" Zach asked, and I silently cheered as he and I said our goodbyes. It wasn't that I didn't like talking to him, but I was so excited for the concert that I could barely even focus on what I was doing at the present moment.

     Shuffling through my closet, I settled on a flannel shirt over a sleeveless shirt with a cat wearing space sunglasses on it. After pulling those on, I gazed down at the leggings I was wearing, simple black cloth that was light enough to keep me from overheating, but thin enough to keep me covered. I carefully slid on my black Doc Martins and proceeded to check myself out in the mirror, admiring the way my outfit flattered my form. I was never a thin girl, not in the least, but the way I looked in the present moment made me feel as if none of that mattered. I vainly wondered if any guys would check me out at the concert, half scolding myself for the narcissistic thoughts, half applauding myself for the confidence. Was it so wrong to thing that I looked good? I felt terrible about thinking so highly of myself, but I had hated the way I looked for so long, I deserved this little bit of self confidence, didn't I?

     My thoughts were interrupted as Zach walked in through my front door without knocking, much like he always did. At first I was irritated at how he just welcomed himself in, but he and I were good enough friends that I've accepted it.

     "You ready for this, Nik?" Zach shouted as he strolled into my bedroom, his hands laced behind his head in a confident swagger.

     "Son, I was born ready," I belched out in a sing songy voice, stuffing my phone and whatever cash I had into my bra before rushing toward the door. Zach pulled it open and slammed it shut behind me, where I quickly locked it after struggling for several moments with my keys. 

     The two of us jogged down the flight of stairs to avoid the wait of the elevator. After five flights of steps and nearly falling down most of them, we dam near fell through the front doors of the apartment building and in the general direction of Zach's car, a black 2015 Jaguar. How he could afford the car, I had no idea, but I was certain plenty of people thought the same thing about me and my 1970 Lincoln.

     We hopped into our respective sides of the car and rushed off toward the concert venue, air rushing through the windows and brushing against my face like the caress of a gentle lover.

     "You know, I have no idea how you're single," Zach brought up, seemingly out of the blue. I was about to question what he meant when he continued, "I mean, you're damn gorgeous with a personality bright enough to light the way for miles. I just don't get it," He shrugged, not taking his eyes off the road for a moment.

     I sat speechless for a moment, letting what he had said sink in. My mouth opened to speak, but I couldn't find any words, though he broke the silence that hung between us.

     "Hell, that'll change tonight."