My heart dropped to my stomach when I saw the flyer stuck to the board. My immediate reaction was to tell Camille we had come to the gig. She asked me if I knew them, I suppose my voice gave away how enthusiastic I was with the prospect of seeing that band.
"I don't," I replied. "But the name called my attention, sounds like the name of a great band."
That wasn't a complete lie; the name did in fact call my attention, it took me all the way back to Frankenmuth. Besides, I couldn't say I knew them, since I wasn't really sure about that myself. It sounded crazy to think it was that same band I watched seven years ago, days before moving from my hometown, but it sounded even crazier to think it could be two distinct bands out there called Greta Van Fleet.
I haven't talked to anyone from that little Christmas town since I moved, I haven't really made any friends there to leave any behind. I left my first love there though, and I still think about him sometimes, even after seven years.
The image of that quiet boy sitting front roll in class is still clear in my head; the image of that same quiet boy all shy behind his drum kit is even clearer. We'd never talked, but we had an unspoken language; sometimes our eyes would meet, his would be shining then - a beautiful shade of brown - and he would offer me that sweet smile of his. I had his name inked all over my notebook, like the typical 13 year old I was. Daniel. It still sounds just as good now.
The pub was already packed when we got here, which means I can expect good music, at least. I don't know what else I can possibly expect though, it's not like Daniel is going to remember me after so long. It's not like we were friends, it's not like I'd done anything to cause any impact in his life. He did cause some in mine, anyhow. The smile he used to offer me, the glowing eyes, it seems so little, but no one has looked me that way since then, no one has ever made my heart beat just as fast.
Camille asks me if I'm alright, watching as I finish another glass in a single gulp. I tell her I'm fine, which seems true at the moment, but when the small silhouette of Josh Kiszka claims his spot on the stage, I tremble. How could I not recognize Josh Kiszka? He was quite popular in Frankenmuth, a peculiar figure I used to admire. He is the same magnetic boy I watched a few years back, which means I was right, it is them.
My heart skips a beat when Daniel finds his way on top of the stage and behind the drums. I could recognize those pair of dark eyes from miles, but he doesn't look like the quiet boy I remember. His raven hair grew long, cascading down his broad shoulders; he's way taller now than seven years ago, and certainly much stronger. That shy Daniel would never wear nothing but an opened vest over his bare chest in front of a crowd, but this one does, and I shiver at the sight.
"They look good," Camille states, eyes trained on the bassist. Samuel Kiszka, Daniel's best friend.
"They really do," I reply, a bit out of breath.
Josh's magnetism is nothing compared to the power of Daniel Wagner. I can't take my eyes off of him the whole time. What happened to the uncertain boy I once saw performing, trying to go unnoticed even when hitting his loud instrument? This one is a beast, not afraid of anything. He's letting his hair flow around, letting the sweat drip down his exposed skin. He's allowing himself to be seen and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed.
I want to talk to him after their set is over, but what would I say? Instead, I let Camille drag me to the bar, where I order the third drink of the night. "Did you like their music?" I ask my friend, but there's no answer.
I move my eyes up my drink to her, finding her hypnotized by Samuel. And he's staring back, Daniel by his side, eyes wandering aimlessly around the dim place. Without breaking his eye contact with my best friend, Sam shakes Daniel's shoulder and tell him something that makes him look at us. He seems taking aback when his gaze falls upon me, but he gets up nevertheless, and walks the steps keeping us apart with Sam.
"Hi." The word comes softly from Daniel's lips, which are already forming a sweet smile, exactly the same one that once made me fall. Sam has already grabbed Camille by the hand then, and their bodies are smashed together on the dance floor.
"Hi," I greet back, feeling a thrill run down my body.
"Do I know you?" He asks timidly, the wild drummer from a few minutes ago turning into the shy, quiet boy I knew from school.
"Kind of," I reply. "I used to live in Frankenmuth until I was 14, when I moved here."
"It's Y/N, right?" He asks, smiling. I nod. "I knew it, just wanted to make sure."
I feel a heat rising from my chest to my face. He remembers me, he knows who I am, I did cause an impact. "And you're Daniel," I say, smiling shyly.
"That's correct." He's looking at me with shining eyes, making my heart thunder inside my chest. I laugh a little, quietly, finding funny how the crush is still there after so long, like it never ceased to exist. "Can I sit here?" He asks, pointing to the stool where Camille was.
"Sure," I say, sipping on my drink to try and hide my excitement. "So what are you guys doing in New York?" I ask, after he ordered a drink to himself.
"It was Jake's idea," he says, turning his body to me; I do the same. "We moved to Detroit after Sam and I graduated high school and we were living of gigs like this one and part time jobs. We tried to get signed but it didn't happen, so Jake said we should try New York, because even if we had to stick to pub gigs, it would at least be somewhere different."
I tell him about the gig I saw seven years ago and how much they have improved since then. He tells me about their growth and asks about me, about college and my family. It's easy talking to him, feels comfortable, like talking to an old friend.
Daniel has these freckles on the bridge of his nose and the more I drink, the more I have to control my hands, which are aching to touch them, to touch him. He looks so different now while still looking the same. It's the same eyes, the same smile, but he's a man now, a beautiful, alluring man.
"You can call me Danny," he states, as I insist to call him Daniel.
"I know," I say. "I just think that your name is way too beautiful to be shorten. Sounds like a melody."
Daniel smiles to the floor and his hand finally finds my knee; his touch is soft despite the calluses on his skin. "Do you wanna dance?" He asks, a bit uncertain. I take his hand in mine and get up from my stool, guiding him to the dance floor.
"You know," he begins, placing his hands on each side of my body. "I used to have a crush on you back in school." I shiver, I blush, I shake, I get out of breath. My heart is a beating mess, collinding to my skull hard and fast.
"Me too," I say. "And you weren't even as enticing then as you are now."
One of his hands goes up to find the side of my neck and he brings his face close to mine, ghosting the tip of his nose against my cheek. "Can I kiss you?" He asks, his lips almost brushing mine as he speak.
"You can do whatever you want, Daniel." I say, finally allowing my fingers to get lost in his hair.
