HONEY, THAT'S ALRIGHT | Van McCann

1. Melody Maker

"Leave me alone!" I growled as I burst out of the pub doors into the cold night. The British air filled my lungs and I inhaled, it was non of that shitty alcoholic, smoke infested stuff what filled the pub.

"Look, I didn't mean to." His arm yanked my hand and I now stood face-to-face with him. "Nothing happened?"

"Just like the last time? And the time before that? And the time before that? I don't think so, Danny." I pushed myself away from his grip and turned to walk the other way. He didn't follow.

I didn't walk too far. I stopped at a wall ledge which separated the street from the entrance of the pub and pulled out my phone. I secluded myself to my thoughts, swinging my legs, letting the heels of my bare feet bounce against the sharp brick what laid solid.

"You might not want to do that." A voice spoke.

"W-what?" I asked, now seeing the figure approach me.

"Your legs. Your heels will get cut up if y' keep on doin' that."

Larry.

A small little innocent 18 year old, his face; round and chubby, but not in a bad way, more natural. He had a darker complexion than mine, as if he had taken a holiday to Barbados or something. He was fairly small but taller than me, I mean, everyone is taller than me. He wore black skinny jeans, paired with a black t-shirt which had a sperm cell on the front? Labelled below it 'HOMESICK', complimented by a black coat to cover his arms as the weather hadn't been too great. His head turned to face mine and I saw his eyes which would blend into the night, just like mine. His eyes scrunched together as he smiled as he saw I was struggling to answer him.

"Larry." I sighed, turning my head back up to the sky. "You don't understand..it's hard loving a guy who doesn't even love me back."

Don't cry, you're stronger than this..

"Gracie." His voice soft, his hand offered me a lit cigarette. "I get it, but he's a dick, y' gotta move on."

Don't cry, Grace..not here..

"No, Larry, I don't..I don't think you do get it." My voice began to crack and I could feel my voice drying up.

Fuck.

Silence fell upon the conversation and my feet still continued to swing.

"Aren't y' cold, Gracie? Where're your shoes?" I felt his arm brush past mine as he removed his coat and placed it around my shoulders.

"No, Larry, don't-, they're-oh, don't you-?" I began to respond to his question but stopped and made myself shut up as he made sure that the coat was secure on my shoulders.

"I'd rather keep y' warm in this weather." He smiled split seconds before rain began to pour and get heavier by the minute. He jumped down from the wall and held his hand out for me as my feet now stood on the wet pavement. His hand felt warm against mine but didn't last long as he let go and began walking, nodding for me to join him. I did hesitate but I decided why not? I couldn't be a tight arse and decline his kindness, it's rare for a guy to be like this nowadays.

I followed the small, drenched boy back through the pub doors where I had previously exited and lead me around the perimeter of the building to behind a curtain whilst his band still performed their songs.

"Sit." Larry held out his hand as I viewed all of the monitors and wires what were hidden behind the curtain. "Here."
He now handed me a towel to dry my body, which mostly exposed my arms and legs. I wasn't a slut or a whore. I was just wearing a skirt with a shirt tucked in, nothing too revealing. I'm not that kind of girl.