((Reserved))

It had taken many days for David to make himself sign up to play at the club on open mic night, and the fear of being booed off stage wriggled through him as he awaited his turn. He took a swig of his beer, finishing off the bottle. He had made sure to only drink one, he would rather not be drunk when he was up there. He had made that mistake in highschool and it had cost his band their reputation. He placed the empty bottle on the counter, shaking his head when he was asked if he wanted another.

His violet eyes flickered around the club, moving past all the pretty women. His sex life had gone dry when he moved here, and he didn't expect it to get better any time soon. Unless some girl -who would probably be drunk- was absolutly amazed by his playing and dragged him home with her. But he doubted this. He sighed, glancing down at his guitar. He had learned to play because the girls at his highschool found it sexy, it was that very guitar that had gotten him laid so many times.

The person going before him was younger, he looked about 19. It seemed his voice was still adjusting, because a few times in the middle of his song his voice would crack. David chuckled as he ended with a wavering note, a few claps coming from the audiance. He cringed as the announcer pointed in his direction, picking up his guitar and heading for the stage.

Jazz was waiting. Some guy in front of her was going up, a guitar player, apparently. He was... exceptional looking, she supposed. Not brilliant. She didn't really care for the blue hair. It should be green.... or purple.

Why was she in line for Open Mic night you ask? Well, Jazz was a singer. A songtress.. a diva.. whatever. She could hit notes that not many could, but she wasn't going to try to hard tonight.

Nope. She was here to have some fun. Clad in some beat up cranberry colored jeans (there was a rip on her right pant leg directly below her bum) and a brown t-shirt that said 'Dip me in chocolate and throw me to the thespians.' Her feet were covered in her faitherful purple chucks, and to top it off, on top of her slightly spiky hair, she had a rather large, frumpy brown tweed hat.

She looked rockin', she felt rockin'. That was why her eyes were sparkilng a rather bright, forest green.

David climbed the few stairs onto the stage, strapping his guitar on and approching the mic. He looked out across the club, his eyes wavering in worry. They had seemed to hate the boy before him, and he was rather good besides the voice.

But he was determind to do this, he had to play. He carefully adjusted the mic and moved closer. "Um...Hi. I'm David and I'll be playing American Idiot by Green Day." His irish accent rang out across the club and a few people went quiet, eyes on him. Now David remembered the thrill of playing in front of a crowd, and he pulled a purple trucker hat from his back pocket and placed it on his head. He also withdrew a pick from the front pocket of his jeans.

He plugged the electric guitar into an amp, quickly begining to play the song.

"Don't wanna be an American idiot.
Don't want a nation under the new media.
And can you hear the sound of hysteria?
The subliminal mind-fuck America.

Welcome to a new kind of tension.
All across the alien nation.
Where everything isn't meant to be okay.
Television dreams of tomorrow.
We're not the ones who're meant to follow.
For thats enough to argue.

Well maybe I'm the faggot America.
I'm not a part of a redneck agenda.
Now everybody do the propaganda.
And sing along in the age of paranoia.

Welcome to a new kind of tension.
All across the alien nation.
Where everything isn't meant to be okay.
Television dreams of tomorrow.
We're not the ones who're meant to follow.
For thats enough to argue.

Don't wanna be an American idiot.
One nation controlled by the media.
Information Age of hysteria.
It's going out to idiot America.

Welcome to a new kind of tension.
All across the alien nation.
Where everything isn't meant to be okay.
Television dreams of tomorrow.
We're not the ones who're meant to follow.
For thats enough to argue."

Good song... Jazz bobbed up and down lightly, but she was also warming up at the same time. Reviewing her lyrics, etc. But... this guy was good. Letting herself go, she cheered for him at he end of his song.

"You rock, babe!" She called, and clapped as loud as she could. Probably shouldn't have yelled... oh what the fuck...

((sorry it's so short!))

David played the final note, and the people in the club gave a much better applause than they had with the person before him. He was slightly surprised to hear someone actually yelling, and woman even. Did...She just call him babe?

He grinned happily, uplugging his guitar. "Thanks," he said into the mic, directing it mostly to the woman. He had never thought himself to be very good, but everyone always told him different. Now perhaps he would finally belive them?

He exited the stage, sitting back down at the bar. The bartender complimented his song and handed him a beer, "On the house," she informed. He smilled and took a swig.

Show time. Taking a deep breath, she stepped up on the stage. Straightening her top, she flaced her hand lightly on the mic, ajusting it. She cleared her throat, and spoke. Her voice was clear, and was high enough to have a feminine air about it.

"Hello everybody. I'm going to sing a song by Voltaire... he's a guy, so some of the lyrics are male orientated, but I think we can overlook that." She grinned and took a CD out of her pocket. She leaned down, handed it to the DJ and told him a number. The music started, a interesting mix of rock music and electric violin.

"Is it so wrong if i don't pay my rent?
No! Responsibility, I gave it up for lent
Sell your wares, pollute the air
I don't care
Fresh air's for squares
Now if it were up to me
The piper would be up the creek
and the fiddler too
'Cuase neither one of you would be paid
I need the cash for getting laid ;P
And i don't mind
To seem unusually unkind
You ask what kind of guy am I

I'm a friend of the irresponsible fools
Who don't have time for rules
The irresponsible who wouldn't
be caught dead in a school
I'm irresponsible
I'm Mr. Irresponsible
I'm irresponsible, and I don't care
If the whole wold burns
(Let it burn)


I live my life without a care
I don't have time to be
Politically aware
I hate to have to think
I hate feeling too
I'll leave those chores to some
Pathetic sap like you
Don't talk to me about the
Dolphin in the tuna net
I'm on the tuna's side
Hey, dolphin tastes quite good i bet
I'd never lie, my hair requires aerosol
I want it ten feet tall
And I don't care about the hole in the sky
If Rogue don't mind, why should I?
It just so happens I'm that kind of guy

It's a bloody miracle that I haven't gotten
Distracted by a skirt and got bored
And just walked away
Before the end of this God forsaken tune...."

Slightly surprised to see the same woman that had cheered so loudly for him go up, David choked slightly on the mouthfull of beer he had. Swallowing, a smile broke out across his face. As she began to sing he bobbed his head lightly to the song...She was very good. And pretty.

As she finished her song he put down his beer and cheered for her, "You're not bad yourself, sweetheart!" Wait...Hold up...Since when did David call girls sweetheart when he didn't even know them? Um...Never.

He sat back down, taking another swig of is beer. His gaze continued to linger on her. She was very pretty. Talented, pretty, likes his music...Just the kind of girl he always dove into bed with in highschool and then never called the next day, or occasionally he would call. But only if the sex was good.

He shook his head, she would never be interested in him. No woman was interested in him anymore, not since he moved to this God forsaken place. Sighing he tipped his head back and finished off the beer.

She smiled and pointed at the man who had just called her sweetheart, and announced:

"Ladies and Gentleman! This man is going to buy me my first drink of the night, just for that!" There was laughter and a bit of applause, and she walked off the stage. It was a little hard getting through the masses of people, but Jazz was an expert croud weaver. It didn't take long before she found the man, and sat in the barstool beside him.

"So, babe, how did I do?" She asked, ordering a beer.

His eyebrows raised as she announced that he was to buy her a drink, and lowered as she sat beside him. There was that word agan...Babe. It had been a long time since he'd heard the word babe said to him...Said about him. He ran a hand through his short hair, giving the bartender the money for her drink and ordering himself another one.

"You did damn good," he replied, his eyes scanning her. Where were his manners? "David," he held out one hand to her.

She took it, her grip rather firm... for a girl, anyways.

"Jazz, nice to meet you David. I think you rocked as well." She said taking a long swig of her recently delivered beer. "Takes a lot of willpower to learn to play an instrument... least that's how I've always seen it." She said, non chanlantly. "Never really had that will power to begin with." Bottle tips up again.

He allowed his hand to fall to his side, sloshing the beer around a bit and staring down the neck of the bottle as it swirled. His attention snapped back to her. He smiled lightly, kind of a crooked grin that indicated he was happy.

He took a swig of his beer, tilting his head back and swallowing quickly. As he brought the bottle back down onto the table he listened to what she was saying, nodding slowly. "I didn't have the will power for a while when I was younger, but I really wanted to play. I believe I smashed my first guitar because I didn't know how to tune it..." he trailed off and took another swig. "I regreted that the next day,"

He smile, which had faded while he was talking, reapeared. He let out a small chuckle and took a small drink of his beer. He was watching her again. "How old are you, anyhow?"

Another taste of beer. "I'm 20... shhh, don't tell." She said, winking. She really didn't mean it as a sexual thing... just a 'secret' type of deal.

"You? Let me guess.... twenty five? No, wait... twenty four." She guessed, putting her finers to her temples as if trying to read his mind, her fingers pushing her hat aside lately.

Ah, she always had a sense of humor.

He wagged his finger at her, chuckling. "Bad girl..." he fake-scolded. "Haha, nope. Not that old yet. I just turned 21 about two months ago," He lifted his beer bottle slightly. "I can finally legally drink my beer,"

He took another swig. "So...How long have you been singing?"

((OMG! It's...it's...SHORT!! -dies-))

"Oh, I'm not really a singer. It's just for fun, you know? But... I've been singing since highschool. I don't really like getting up in front of people... but, I face it every now and then." She said, grinning wickedly. It was hard to tell if she was telling the truth or not... but in a slightly entrancing way.

Ajusting her hat, she looked him over once more. He wasn't bad looking, not at all. The blue hair... agh. The only killer. If only it were green....

He smirked, finishing his beer. "Well...For fun or not, you're very talented," he commented as he removed his trucker hat and sat it beside his beer bottle on the bar.

"I always liked performing for large crowds. Which is why I joined the band I was in all through highschool," His eyes flickered to his guitar and he shook his head sadly, he missed his old band. He missed his highschool band mates, he missed the insane crowds.

His attention snapped back to Jazz, and he smiled weakly.

Jazz only nodded, and sipped her beer. She couldn't really relate... she was a bit of an outcast in highschool.

Looking at him. she decided to change the subject. There was only so long she could talk about music and talent before she went crazy.

"So, what else do you do? I mean, besides guitar."

(so.... SHORT! Gah! Sorry.... )

The stage was empty now, all the people had gone already and it just sat there unused. David stared at it.

He shrugged, adjusting his tie so it was slightly looser. "Not much," This was true, when he wasn't practicing or writing songs he was simply sitting around. "Um..." He thought a moment. "I don't know. I got boring when I moved here."

((-is distracted- Oo Sorry 'bout the suckiness!))

She grinned. Hard to tell if it was friendly or not. It was a mystery, I suppose.

"So, you have no life outside of music? Well, that should be fixed. Now... what should I get you hooked on? Movies? Radio? Ooohh... maybe Art." She said, putting a finger to her lips in thought.

He snapped his fingers. "Art. I used to paint...But..Um...I stopped."

Yes. David had stopped painting in his sophmore year to devote all his free time to his music.

((WHY are my POSTS so SHORT?!?! -vows to make longer posts from now on-))

(I'm SO SORRY this took so long!)

Jazz gave a sly grin.

"You should start up again..." Simple words, but they seemed to have another meaning. What, exactly? Well, that can't be said.

Her smile faded as she looked down at the counter, and traced her finger in some water, making a sad face. Then, looking back up at David, she smiled once more.

"It's good to be talented in many ways, you know."

He nodded. "Maybe I will. Depends on if I have the money for supplies," David fiddled with the bill of his hat, bending it in different directions. He looked back at the stage again, shaking his head absentmindedly.

"Hey," He snapped his head back to look at her, wrinkling his nose. "Want to get out of here? I've got an itching to go to the beach..." He put his hat back on, turning it around backwards.

(S'ok, love.)

A slightly crooked smile was aimed at the man.

"The beach? I'm not a big fan of sand, but if you want to, I'm game." She ajusted her top once more, and gave him a peircing look. Not a bad peircing.. just one that seemed to see right through him.

"Of course, if you're in the mood for art, we could go to my house." No hidden meanings. An obsevant man would have noticed the paint underneath her fingernails, and light stains on her hands.

Oil paint.

Art. He thought for a moment.

David shrugged. "Sure. Art, art sounds nice." He nodded, and took his hat back off. My he was being rather figety tonight. With a smile he stood up, putting his hat into his back pocket.

(Sorry I took so long. O.o)