Jakoby

It's my first real gig in almost a year. Besides some coffee shops and a lot of street performances, this is my first time playing in front of a lot of people. I've been struggling, even though I won't admit that. The last year of my life has been... messy.

I want Ruby here. It's crazy how bad I want her to come.

She said no thanks in her text, but I sent her the address to the bar anyway. I really hope she comes. I have a good feeling about it. About her. I haven't gotten in touch with her since she gave me her number besides texting her twice. Her replies were simple and she doesn't seem overly interested, but that's okay. I don't want to see overly anxious about seeing her again. I thought tonight would be a good chance for us - if she shows up.

The bar is called Drop Out and my boss, Doc, knows the owner. He got me this gig, finally. At the studio, he pretty much ignores me beside when he's barking orders. I guess he isn't so bad after all, though, since he lined this up for me. Even if he doesn't pay me to work thirty hours a week for him. Doc told the owner of this bar, Gabe, that I'm "pretty good". That's an amazing compliment from Doc, so here I am.

It's almost 8P.M. and I go on at 8:30. I get to play for thirty minutes before the house band plays, for an hour. I have spent the last few days practicing a bunch of popular songs that go with my vibe, and polishing off the new original songs I'm going to sing. Doc took me here once -  a few months ago - to have a beer and listen to the house band, Rotten Clue. Tonight, I get to play before them.

I'm pretty nervous as I wait to go on, considering I am never nervous playing outside malls and groceries stores. Playing my guitar is like second nature, I never worry about messing up or people enjoying my music. Doc is here somewhere, in the crowd or sitting at the bar. Maybe that's why my stomach is in knots.  I don't want to mess this up, or embarrass him.

I eat an apple from a basket, backstage. I drink a bottle of water and then I tune my guitar - which I've already tuned today. My hands are shaking as I step out on the stage, finally. It's feels like this is where I belong.  I've been hoping all evening that Ruby would show up, but now all I can think about is playing well and not fucking this up. Until I see her.

She's at the back of the room, leaning against a wall. She's not even looking to awards the stage. But she's here.

I try not to watch her while I play, but I glance at her a few times. She even smiles at me, once. I hope I'm not imagining her. I have five songs on my set list, and the first two are crowd pleasers. The third is a special song I wrote over the last two weeks. My set goes too fast and I'm on my last song - Wonderwall - when I look over at where Ruby was standing. She's gone. Still singing, I look around some more, frantically, until I see her pushing through the crowd towards the back exit.

"I said maaaaaybe... you're gonna be the one that saves me..."

I'm not thinking straight when I finish the song a verse early and thank the crowd, then drop my guitar onto the stand and hop off the stage. I have to get to Ruby, to see if she's okay.

Ruby

I didn't even think I wanted to go to this bar, but once I was there, I was actually enjoying it. I stepped into the club and showed my I.D. and then tucked myself against the back wall, just as Jakoby was walking out onto the stage. We made eye contact just before he played his first song, but I tried not to let it happen again. It felt like he was singing only to me. Like he was talking to my soul. And it was too much feeling.

The third song is the one that does it for me. The melody is slow and mellow but even before he starts singing, it seems like it was written just for me.

I don't catch all the words, but I don't have to. The girl with the ever-changing hair and the brightest eyes I've ever seen. The girl who took my breath away and hasn't given it back to me.

He's just finishing the song when I decide I need to go. I'm feeling about a million things all at once and I'm scared, because it feels good. I'm too much of a chicken to find out what it means, or if this guy, a practical stranger, actually wrote this song about me. So I turn towards the exit, deciding I've had enough.

"Hey..." A guy is suddenly right there, grabbing at me. He's tall and strong and I immediately feel like I'm in trouble.

I pull away and try to keep walking.

"Pretty girl, where you going?" he asks and grabs my arm harder. I can't get away. He's older and he's stronger, by a long shot.

The club is crowded. I'm too weak and suddenly my back is against the wall. It hurts.

"Don't be a tease," he says into my ear.

He smells like beer and cheap cologne and his facial hair is scruffy against my cheek. I feel vomit in my stomach and coming up my throat. I'm too stunned to do anything. This can't be happening.

"Leave me alone," I manage to say.

"You were strutting past me like you wanted me," he accuses me.

Now his other hand is at my waist. I'm completely still. I feel like I'm going to black out. This is far too familiar and I can't remember what I learned in the self defence classes I took when I was eighteen. I can't even think straight.

"I was leaving," I say, but he just grips me tighter.

His now-free hand moves up my shirt, too fast. It's dark and loud and no one knows what's happening, except me. I have to do something.

"Well, you're not leaving now. You want this, don't you?" he tells me, as his fingers graze my bra and I cringe and struggle to pull back.

    "Stop," I say, but it's a whisper.

He starts groaning and rubbing his lower half against me and I'm suddenly aware of what is really happening. I have to get away, so I pull my head back and swing forward, hitting my forehead off his lowered cheek. A moment later, I lift my knee and hit him right between the legs.

As I am running through the crowd to get towards the back exit, I hear Jakoby singing.

"I said maaaabe... you're gonna be the one who saves meeee."

Finally, I'm outside. The door slams closed behind me. I am pretty much having a panic attack but at least I got away from that disgusting man. 

    "You're okay," I whisper to myself. "Take a deep breath."

But then the door pushes open and I jump, moving further away. I can't make myself look, so I just cover my face with my hands and try to stop crying.

"Ruby? Hey, what's going on?" a voice asks me right away.

I know that voice, and it's not that gross guy. But I am very shocked to see Jakoby outside in the alley, now. "I should never have come here."

"Hey... what happened?"  he asks again, and he looks confused.

    "Fucking asshole guys think they can do whatever they want. Take anything." I say this to him, and start sobbing again. "I told him to stop. And-"

    "Wait, what happened?" Jakoby wants to know, suddenly sounding more frantic.

  I look at him again and just shake my head. "Never mind."

"Not all guys are assholes," he tells me, his voice quiet.

"Well, that asshole had his hand up my shirt after I said I wasn't interested," I snap. "Coming here was so stupid."

    "Shit. I'm sorry," he tells me, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry."

    "Why are you sorry? You didn't... this isn't your fault," I mumble.

    "I invited you here, and then this happens." He looks mortified, actually. As if he really believes he caused this to happen to me.

    "I should have known. This is why I don't do things like this," I say, finally a bit more calm. His presence actually calmed me down, but I realize that to have to go.

I am still shaking, I realize as he reaches out and touches my arm, ever so gently. His hand is cold and I have goosebumps, but for some reason his touch is very welcomed. We are both quiet for what feels like hours.

    "I should have known better. I should not have come," I say again, breaking the silence. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be still playing?"

He shrugs, even though I'm not really looking at him. "Guess my set's done. I saw you run out here. I had to come and make sure you were okay."

"You barely know me. You messed up your gig for me," I say, confused.

     "There's always other gigs. I can drive you home?" he asks, which surprises me.

"I have my roommate's car," I tells him, wiping my eyes. I'm not crying anymore, but the tears are still there.

He smiles, this big smile showing all of this teeth. "You can take me home, then?"

"Wait, you don't even have a car?" I ask, still confused.

     "Nope. I play music in front of grocery stores, you think I own a car?"

Surprisingly, this makes me smile back at him. "How were you going to take me home?"

"I know how to order an Uber," he grins.

"Are you sure you want to leave? You can probably go back in there and tell them what happened." I wipe my eyes again and look right into his.

"No, I'm good. I'd rather make sure you get home safe," he tells me.

"Okay," I agree, but I really don't know what I'm agreeing to.

*

"He didn't hurt you, did he? That asshole who tried to touch you?" Jakoby asks, about ten minutes later.

He went back into the club to get his guitar and came back out as quick as ever. I waited outside at the front of the bar.

"Not really. I probably hurt him more by kneeing him in the junk before I ran out of there," I answer, leading him down the street to where Garrett's car is parked.

"Good. Maybe I should go back in there and find him," he goes on, looking back towards the bar.

"No offence. You're not exactly a big guy. He'd probably kick your ass," I tell him, and then laugh.

"Ouch." Jakoby laughs, too.

But I'm telling the truth. He's kind of scrawny. He's taller than me, but I'm pretty short. He's thin and just doesn't seem overall intimidating.    

  "Fine. I don't want to fight tonight, anyway," he tells me, as we approach the white two-door car.

"Right," I say, and unlock it before opening the driver's door and slide in.