"He's there!!" Samantha squeals, practically vibrating in her seat as she spots her crush on stage. I take another sip of my drink, studying the man on stage in black cargo pants and a sleeveless white shirt that shows off his toned arms. His messy blonde hair falls perfectly out of place, making him unfairly attractive. He appears to be the band's guitarist and vocalist.
"What are they called again?" I ask.
"Pitch Black," she answers.
"Found someone you like?" she asks with a smirk. I pushed her away and tried to hide my embarrassment as she laughed.
Samantha suggested we get closer to the stage but I refused to. It's way too crowded there and I wouldn't want anyone's sweat rubbing on me so we remained seated on the bar stools. We could see everything perfectly from here.
The first note played by the guitarist captures my attention all over again. 'What's this?' I feel the spark of the performance instantly. And as he sang the first lyric, I think I fell head over heels for him. I can't take my eyes off him. He looks like he's having the time of his life up there. He's definitely shining more than the others—or maybe that's how I see it. 'What a voice,' I think as his tone wraps around me, chasing the darkness out of my head. And as he sings, our eyes met for the third time today. But this time, I didn't look away.
He locks his eyes with mine as if he's challenging me, and I can confirm that then, at that moment, I want to get on that stage and prove I belong there too. And just like that, my mind cleared and escaped the pits. He smiles before turning his eyes and attention away from me down to his guitar and begins playing the most beautiful guitar solo I've ever heard. "Was he looking at you just now?" Samantha asks, knowing the answer. I look at her and say: "Samantha… I think I'm in love."
I've always been honest with my feelings and never shied away from them. When I feel something, I usually express it—whether through music or by saying it outright. Samantha looks at me, eyes wide, not knowing what to say. "It's the guitarist, not the drummer," I reassure her, just in case.
"I KNOW, Aria. You wouldn't steal my man. Besides, he was REALLY looking at you just now," she says, smiling slyly. I nudge her playfully and tease, "Your man?" She just shyly smiles away.
The show ended with our eyes meeting a few more times, and I couldn't help but stare at him throughout the whole performance. "That was beyond cool! Did you see how sweaty and sexy Darren was on the drums?" Samantha kept going on, exaggerating how hot her crush Darren was, and I found myself wondering about the guitarist's name. So, I asked her, "Yeah, he wasn't bad—hey, do you know the guitarist's name?" She pouted and said, "He wasn't bad, you say? He was the coolest of them all, and your man's name is Lukas." 'Lukas,' I repeat to myself, letting his name settle in my mind.
We drink a little more before I finally call a cab and decide it's time to leave the club.
"Samantha, I think I'm tipsy. Last drink," I say, eyeing the very drunk version of my best friend—the one who will most definitely pass out soon and leave me with the honorable responsibility of dragging her back to our dorm.
Drunk Samantha is a full-time job. She's a disaster when she's drunk—brutally honest, wildly straightforward, and nothing like her usually composed self. Extra chatty. Extra social. Zero filter. She knows I'll always take care of her, so she drinks like consequences don't exist.
When the cab pulls up, I wrap her arm around my shoulder and guide her toward it. As we're stepping out of the club, we stumble across the Pitch Black band.
Of course we do.
My chaotic excuse of a friend looks up at Darren, grins lazily, and blurts out,"Hey Darren, you were so cool tonight. It turned me on." My soul leaves my body. I immediately slap my hand over her mouth, mumble a mortified apology, and rush her toward the cab before she can publicly ruin both our lives. But before I get in, I glance back. Lukas is standing just behind Darren.
Watching.
"Young miss! Send my thanks to your friend for me!" Darren calls out with a laugh as we climb into the cab. I offer an awkward smile and nod before shutting the door. And Lukas is still there.
Still staring.
I sink back into the seat as the cab drives off and turn to Samantha, who is now mumbling nonsense to herself. "Oh, Samantha," I sigh, "just wait until you hear the stupid shit you said tonight." She's not going to enjoy that recap. Because despite her bold alter ego, sober Samantha is surprisingly shy.
We finally reach the dorm, and I somehow manage to drag her inside and drop her onto the bed. I kick off her shoes, tug off her jacket, and step back to catch my breath. "You are not that skinny, you know," I complain, panting as I grab a bottle of water for myself and leave another one on her bedside table for when dehydration inevitably hits her in the morning. After washing off my makeup and sobering up just enough to think straight, I collapse onto my bed. I stare at the ceiling for a moment.
'Maybe next time… I should ask for his number.'
And with that thought lingering in my mind, I drift into sleep.