Hotel Café
Chapter 2.

"Justin, get off the phone man! We're on stage in like ten minutes." Trace ushered his friend.

Justin nodded, rolling his eyes as he paced the small back stage area of the hotel cafe, one hand balled in a fist while the other held his cell phone to his ear.

"Look, I can't get home for at least a month. We're playing shows all over. We've got to do this if we want to make it." Silence. "You said you'd understand. I've got to try."

Trace tapped his foot in front of Justin, urging him on but he payed no attention. "Justin!!" He finally yelled, catching his attention.

He pulled the phone away from his ear angrily. "Dammit Trace, give me a fucking minute." He yelled.

Trace stood wide eyed, shaking his head before he finally gave up and left the room.

Eight minutes went by and by the time Justin emerged, he found Trace sipping a beer by the entrance of the stage. Trace passed a glance his way but didn't speak.

"I um, I'm sorry about that, man."

Trace shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I take it didn't go very well?"

Justin ran a hand through his short curls. "Same shit, different day. I'm not home enough. I don't love her. Blah, blah, blah."

"So did you guys break up?"

Justin shrugged. "You know, at this point I wouldn't even care. I can't do this shit every damn day."

Trace padded his friend on the back. "Let it go man. We've got a show to do. Forget about it for now and just get out there and sing your ass off man."

Nodding, Justin picked up his guitar and began tuning it. "You're right. Let's do this."

Trace took another swig of his beer before picking up his own guitar as he waited for them to be introduced.

Justin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his mood. He didn't need this shit right now. He was once reminded that musicians made really shitty boyfriends but he refused to fit that mold. His girlfriend was suppose to be happy for him, was suppose to love him, want him to peruse his dreams but that simply wasn't the case. They were high school sweethearts and she had every intention of staying at home, going to a four year college and working somewhere locally, in the same home town they grew up in. Justin however had different plans.

Their relationship had always been the same. He, somewhere trying to get his music heard, her never wanting to come out and support him. She had often accused him of cheating, though he never had and it seemed every time they had the repetitive conversation, they just got more and more distant with one another. They had planned to get married, were officially engaged if you wanted to put a title on it but was pretty sure that title had quickly been squashed right before he finally hung up the phone.

**

I don't need this shit. I'm going to shake this stress off of my shoulders, go out there and perform my ass off. Who knows who could be out in the audience, who could see us, like our sound and want to sign us. I've got dreams and it's up to me to see them through.

Chill, Justin. You've done this before.

Shit, and now I'm talking to myself. I've officially lost it. I wait for them to introduce us and I have to mentally tell myself, this night is another shot. I've got to kick some ass out there. All problems, all drama, all the shit going on in my head needs pushed away. Right now, it's just me, my band, and the music. Nothings going to stand in the way of that. Absolutely nothing.

Right?

I go out, taking a seat on the bench placed in front of the microphone and introduce myself. For some reason, tonight my palms are sweating like crazy. I never get nervous. What the hell? I begin with a little faster song, trying to bring some rhythm to the room, get the crowed warmed up and maybe wake them up a little. After all, this is a hotel cafe. How rockin' can these people get?

I scan the crowd, albeit the bright lights and I'm actually impressed. It's bigger than the norm. This hotel is pretty 'upscale' for being in Nashville and it's places and people like this that matter. We were lucky enough to book a few gigs somewhere so big, under no real management team or record label of any sort so all in all, I'm just stoked to be here.

I start the song, strumming along, singing, excited to see the crowd getting into it and begin to look like they're genuinely liking our sound. Maybe this will be a good night after all. I think at this point in my day, it can't get any worse. On the way there, our van that we take got a flat tire, we ended up lost on some dirt freaking road, almost late, and to top it all off, I have to get an earful from the woman whom I used to call my finance. Focus Justin, focus. You're here for the music.

We go through two more songs, followed by an abundant round of applause and I'm a little excited. Theres nothing better than a big crowd that loves you. I can tell Trace is feeding off it, as well as our drummer and right now, everything is coming out beautifully, free up any mistakes or anything. Their might be a small cocky side of me that really enjoys being adored. Sick, I know.

I look down graciously as the bar tender places a beer bottle down by my foot, and one back by Trace as she winks and I nod in thanks. I try to stop the thoughts running through my mind as her cleavage nearly falls out of her top as she leans over. Something tells me alcohol is the last thing my brain needs to feed off of right now but I tell myself, one won't hurt right?

I lick my lips as I take a long swig from the bottle before returning it to the floor and get a better grasp on my guitar. I turn back to Trace, and Kyle on the drums and nod, starting up another song. This time, it's a slow song, one that I wrote and it has to be one of my absolute favorites. I began, happy my voice comes out in the perfect pitch, just as I needed it to. I'm in the mood to serenade and just let people get lost and feel everything I did when I wrote this. I call these lyrics from my soul.

My fingers continue strumming effortlessly, Trace on background vocals, balancing out my voice and in the midst of my intense belting out the song, I open my eyes and scan the crowd again, looking for reaction when I stop, seeing a woman standing be the exit sign, leaning against the door. I squint, trying to get a better picture with the light shining in my face and I can't see her that well but from what I can, I find my breath hitching in my throat, almost screwing up the song.

She's got her arms crossed and her eyes are glued on mine and I call tell she's actually listening. I lick my lips again nervously, taking in her average built frame, her brown curly hair laying over her shoulders easily. She looked to be dressed in what could only be low rise jeans and a green t-shirt that clung to her body. She was.... shit, she was beautiful. Was she watching me? I began to second guess myself. Did I have something on my face or was she staring at Trace or Kyle? Trace was known to be a ladies man, especially since we'd been doing shows here and there. Hell, Trace could have groupies for all I knew.

I went on with the song, my eyes locking with hers as we continued to gaze at one another. She'd look away nervously, her arms going around her tighter and her chest would heave and she'd look back, eyes once again on mine. I put everything into the rest of the song, belting out, crying out, singing my ass off like I've always loved. I tried to ignore the thudding in my chest as the song came to a close and she still hadn't moved from her place against the door. Why hadn't she come inside? I felt a surge of hear creep through my cheeks as I sat my guitar down only to catch her clapping along with everyone else softly. I couldn't lay a finger on why I was so affected by a stranger.

Right after that, Trace announced our short intermission and I stood, setting my guitar against the wall and walking towards the bar for another drink. I kept glancing in her direction, trying to nonchalantly make sure she didn't leave. A huge part of me wanted to just walk over to her and introduce myself but my nerves had got the best of me. What the hell would I even say? I cursed myself, knowing I've never really had trouble speaking to a woman in all the 25 years of my life. It just came naturally to me. My wit, my charm, again, cocky much?

I stand at the bar, ordering a drink as I feel Trace slap his hand on my shoulder from behind. "Dude, what the hell was up with you during the last song?"

I looked at him confused. Nothing was up with me yet, so I play dumb. "What do you mean, man?"

He rolls his eyes at me, downing the shot he just ordered. "That girl by the door you kept staring at. Do you know her?"

I wish I knew her. "No. I've never met her before in my life." I shrug, trying to discreetly glance in the direction of the door. Shit, where did she go? I turn to walk away, hearing Trace immediately question me but I shake my head, ignoring him. She wasn't there anymore. Why was panic running through me?

With me beer in one hand, I quickly scan the hotel cafe, not seeing her anymore. I walk to the doorway, just below the exit sign and see her nowhere. I walk out, wondering where she went or if I've really lost it and she was just a figment of my imagination. I'm now walking through the hotel lobby that leads to a hallway and I finally see her, standing there in front of an elevator. I swallow thickly, wondering if I should go up to her and if I do, what the hell do I say?

Instead, I stand there, watching her for a second and it's not long before I hear the ding of the elevator doors open. Shit. Just as she's about to step on the contraption, I can't prevent myself from what I'm about to do. "Hey.."

She turns, her brown hair moving softly against her shoulders, eyes slightly wide. She turns around, feet backing out of the elevator and I don't even realize that I've just speed walked over to her. "Yeah?" She asks, and I smile, the sound of her voice noncommittal.

Oh gosh, think Justin, you idiot. "You um, you liked the show?"

She nods slightly. "I did."

I scratch the back of my neck nervously, having no damn clue what to say. "I'm glad." I sputter out. "I'm Justin." I say, reaching my hand out to her.

"Baya." She says, her hand meeting with mine, soft but firm.

I never believed in that 'love at first sight' bullshit but I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel something. It might not have been be love, or lust even but there was it was one of those things I chose not to distinguish.

"Nice to meet you. You got somewhere to be?"

She looked around, confused. "Nice to meet you too and um, no. Should I?"

I laughed a little, my nervousness creeping out. "Yes you do." I say, already going the cocky route but quickly recover."Would you--, would you like to come back and watch the rest of the set? I could--maybe buy you a drink after?"

Baya looked hesitant, almost like she was going through a mental argument with herself, deciding what to do. "Okay."

Her answer was sure and firm. I let out a breath I had no idea I had been holding. "Yeah?" I asked making sure I had heard correctly. She nodded, taking a step forward. "Let me lead the way." I said, smiling as I turned on my heels, now facing the cafe. She comes up beside me, walking in step with me and it's almost instant when the light flowery scent of her meets my senses. It takes every bit of willpower inside of me not to reach an arm around and toss it over her shoulders. I just met her. Don't jump the gun you idiot. She's just a girl you met in a hotel cafe. It was all very plain and simple right?