#like matthew you can go ... bye... but trixie needs to stay

[highlineeheartbeat]

if helen leaves call the midwife I will never recover

[thechildoflightning]

Ch3- Collision Course (October)

Title: Calendrical Consequences [Masterpost]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Eventual LAMP/CALM

~~~

Chapter Title: Collision Course (October)- Chapter 3

Summary: 

Virgil gets a phone call.

Warnings: Panic Attack, Cult Involvement, Blood Mention, Unintentional Self Harm, Graphic Description of Bones, Blood, and Dead Bodies, Throwing Up, Kidnapping, Abuse of a Minor

[ao3 link]

~~~

Collision Course (October)- Chapter 3

October 15, 2019

-

He got the call early in the morning. “Hello,” he said blearily, only picking it up because this was the number’s third time calling in a row.

“Hello, am I speaking to Mr. Virgil Torres?” a voice asked. It was unfamiliar, stiff, and professional. Virgil waited for the usual spiel about tax fraud, or saving on student loans, or whatever scam they were running. 

“Uh, yes that’s me.”

In most cases, he would have hung up. But they knew his name. How did they know his name?

“I’m calling to inform you that we have Matthew Waters in custody… He is going to go on trial for his crimes… April… Your experience with him could be of great use… we need you to testify… take some time to process… We’ll call you again next week… Have a good day.”

When the person on the other line hung up, Virgil gasped and collapsed to the floor. Trixie was on top of him in mere seconds. 

She did her best to perform her tasks even as Virgil cried and pushed her away. 

He couldn't breathe. 

They had found him. 

They were going to see him. 

They would know. 

They would kill him. 

He was going to die. 

Holy shit he was going to die.

He didn't want to die. 

He couldn't breathe.

His breath came in painful gasps as his mind shot to the past. Images of human bones and looking into a dead person’s eyes. Memories of being hit and burned and placed in the cellar. 

The cellar where they kept the bodies. It reeked. Flies had taken over the room of corpses and he could feel them on his skin. Walking along his body. And the loud shouting voices. Commanding him to obey and comply. Demanding he believe in a god that hated him. 

He could see their arms reaching towards to grab him. Grab him and take him back and kill him like the rest. Kill him and string his bones up. Hang his flesh as a gift to the dead. Pour his blood along their bodies, soaking in his pain. He screamed. 

Touch was the first sense Virgil regained.

Cold.

Cold what?

Cold floor.

Pain.

Pain what?

Pain in arms.

Soft.

Soft what?

Soft dog.

Sound was the second sense Virgil regained.

“How long-”

“I’m trying-”

“Should we-”

“Did he move-”

“Roman, come here-”

“Guys I think he’s-”

Sight was the third sense Virgil regained.

Faces.

Three faces.

Patton. Roman. Logan.

Worried.

Jacket?

Large jacket. Favorite jacket. On him.

Dog?

Dog. Trixie. Good girl.

Smell and taste were the last senses Virgil regained.

He shot up, sitting on the cool floor of the room, leaned over, and retched.

Someone winced in sympathy off to his side. Tears pricked the corner of Virgil’s eyes as the overwhelming feeling of ‘not good’ hit him. 

Once Virgil had completely emptied his stomach right in the middle of the kitchen floor, he turned back to his friends. They looked about as bad as he felt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He felt like he was speaking around a mouthful of cotton.

“Oh honey,” Patton said, tears in his eyes, “It’s okay.”

“Virgil, how do you feel about moving to the living room?” Logan offered, “It’ll be comfier and we can clean up.”

Virgil glanced down. Not only had he thrown up everywhere, there was blood on the floor.

“What blood, wait why is there blood, guys, guys.” Virgil stared in horror at the floor. Oh god he really was back-

“C’mon Virgil, deep breathing,” Roman encouraged.

“With me,” Logan started, “4, 7, 8.”

Virgil struggled to get his breathing back under control, doing his best to follow Logan’s guidance.

“Okay, Virgil, I’m going to tell you some things, and I’m going to need you to try and stay calm. We can stop and breathe whenever you need to, okay?” Logan asked.

Virgil nodded. He could hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears. 

“You had a major panic attack. In the process you ended up biting your lip and scratching your arms raw. Patton cleaned up your arms and bandaged them, but some of the scratches are decently deep. None need further medical attention. You were screaming for quite a while, so your throat is probably very sore. We can get you some water in a minute,” Logan explained, voice soft.

Virgil just stared.

“Virgil, did you understand all of that?”

Virgil nodded.

Logan sighed. 

“What do you think about moving to the living room?” Logan asked.

“Okay,” Virgil said hoarsely.

No one moved.

“I, I don’t think I can move,” Virgil said at last.

He wasn’t sure why exactly, but he was just stuck. Everything was a blurry fuzzy mess. Like turning on the radio and getting static. Except it was his brain that was broadcasting the static, and that static was being sent to every part of his body. 

“Is it okay if Roman carries you?” Logan asked.

“Okay.”

Virgil directed Trixie off his lap, allowing Roman to reach forward and lift him up. He carried him into the other room, Trixie following close behind. Logan and Patton chose not to follow and instead got to work cleaning the mess in the kitchen.

In the living room, Roman carefully set Virgil on the couch, Trixie leaping up to lay on him once more.

Roman looked at him and shifted from foot to foot. Virgil sighed at his uneasy posture, and patted the couch for him to join him. Roman squeezed in with them, sitting on the very edge of the seat.

“Roman, it’s okay,” Virgil said, “I’m fine.”

The other boy snorted.

“Uh, V, I don’t know about you but I don’t consider finding you in the worst panic attack that I have ever seen you have as ‘fine.’”

Virgil sighed and started to pet Trixie as he started to think about why he had said panic attack in the first place. Tears started to slowly drip from his eyes. Virgil did nothing to stop them, instead allowing them to fall off his face and into his lap.

“Shit, Virgil, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Roman was quick to apologize. The later boy shifted, obviously uncomfortable. 

“No, no, you’re fine. It’s not you,” Virgil hesiated. “I just got some really bad news.”

Roman frowned and looked worried for him. The look honestly made Virgil get a little choked up. Virgil couldn’t believe that he had once thought that Roman was hard and uncaring. 

“I- Virgil, are you- are you going to be okay?”

Virgil wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say, but luckily enough, he was interrupted by Logan and Patton entering the room. Patton handed him a water bottle, and Virgil immediately opened it and started to guzzle it down as he came to the realization that he was parched. He choked and spluttered instantly, coughing up the water. 

“Take it easy Virge,” Patton said softly.

He nodded, and tried to finish the water more slowly. After he was done he looked at his roommates.

“I need to call my dad,” he said, not meeting any of their gazes, “Would- would you guys please stay with me?”

“Of course sweetheart,” Patton told him.

The other two nodded.

He then took a deep breath and turned back to his phone to type in a familiar number. He punched it in and held the phone up to his ear, waiting for the familiar voice to pick up on the other end.

“Dad?” he said as it connected.

“Virgil?” came the other’s voice.

Virgil started to cry again and wiped the tears away quickly. 

“Hi Dad,” he whispered.

“Hey son. Are you crying? Talk to me V.”

“They found me!” Virgil said with a loud sob.

“Breathe Virgil.” His father’s voice was gentle but commanding and Virgil took a large gulping inhale. 

“Okay,” he said, and tried to do so. 

“You said they found you?”

“Yes! I, I got a phone call and-”

“What?” his father asked, a harder edge encroaching onto his softer tone. “They have him in custody. Dad, they want me to testify.”

“Honey I’m going to need you to explain a bit more.”

“I got, got a call,” he choked out, “from an attorney. They have Matthew Waters in custody and are taking him to court. And they want me to testify against him. But, I, I can’t- I can’t- He’ll take me again! Dad they think I’m dead, they’ll kill me!”

Virgil was hyperventilating at this point, worse case scenarios racing through his head. Maybe they wouldn’t kill him. Maybe they would take him again and hurt him and torture him and play with him. And then, maybe, if he was lucky, they would finally kill him. After everything, it would come as a relief.

“Deep breathes Virgil,” came his father’s steady voice. It was firm and familiar, a voice that had guided Virgil through countless panic attacks over the years. 

“Okay.”

“Breathe in. Hold. And out. Again. In, hold, out. Again. In, hold, out. Doing better?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay honey, now I need you to listen to me. He cannot get you. He is in custody, if there were any reason they thought he, or anyone else could hurt you, they would deal with it. They don’t even know you’re alive. The prosecution probably wants to keep that quiet for now, because keeping you quiet makes sure that the defense wouldn’t be able to prepare a refutation. We can call in to make sure you’re safe, okay sweetheart. Your safety is a priority.”

“But Dad if I testify- And they find me-” Virgil almost pleading, begging for reassurance. 

“Don’t worry about that right now honey. Just focus on the fact you’re safe. Talk to your friends. They seem like good kids.”

“Okay.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. I love you.”

The panicked adrenaline was starting to recede somewhat, and the beginning of exhaustion started to seep into his bones. 

“I love you too, V. Do you want to keep talking?”

“No, no, I think I’m okay,” Virgil hesitated, “but can call you again tomorrow?”

“Of course Virgil. You can call me whenever. Okay?”

“Okay,” Virgil confirmed, “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Virgil hung up and sniffled, wiping more tears from his eyes. The other three looked at him, all of their lashes also tinted with tears.

The room was heavy with silence.

“Uh, so I guess I should explain, I mean-” Virgil stumbled. 

“Virgil, you are not obligated to share anything with us, if you-”

“Logan, shut up.”

Virgil took a breath and began.

“Okay, so, I’m not going to go into it all. I mean you already know a lot of it. Okay so, you know I was kidnapped when I was six.”

They all nodded.

“And that I was taken to a cult.”

More nods.

“And I was rescued when I was 13 and left abandoned in the-” Virgil choked, “cellar, when they fled because the police had connected them to kidnappings and murders.”

They all nodded again.

“Right well, then I’ve told you about my recovery process and PTSD and everything. But, I never- I mean- the cult obviously continued to operate, right?

“So, uh, the leader, uh, our,” Virgil bit out the next word, “Savior, was Matthew Waters. You probably heard me on the phone,” Virgil hesitated, took a deep breath, and looked up at his friends, “They caught him. And they need me to testify against him.”

~~~

October 22, 2019

-

Ever since last year, Patton and Virgil made it a habit to get lunch at one of the little university cafés once a week. A tradition that had started based on scheduling convenience but was now just a time to hang out individually.

“So, how are you feeling about all of it?” Patton asked carefully as he sipped his iced tea. He reached up to push one of his dreads away and huffed as it fell back into his eyes. Virgil smiled at the action, then shook himself back to the question at hand. He just shrugged in response.

Patton just gave him a look. A look that always, without fail, made Virgil want to spill whatever secret he was holding in.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, “I mean, I want to testify, I do, that bastard deserves to be locked up.”

“But?” Patton prompted. God, Patton knew Virgil well. Or maybe he just knew people well. Either way, he was great at catching Virgil’s half-truths.

“But I’m scared they’re going to find me and come after me.”

“Oh, Virgil,” Patton said softly, reaching out to grasp Virgil’s hand. Virgil looked down.

“And I know that that’s not going to happen,” Virgil continued, “Logically, I do know that. But for the past seven years of my life I’ve worked so hard to recover, knowing that I would never have to see those people again. And now I do.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton offered, “I wish I knew how to help. You don’t deserve to go through any of this.”

Virgil sniffed and rubbed at his eyes.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “It’s whatever. I’ll get over it.”

“You know something my mom once told me,” Patton offered, “she told me, ‘there is always someone worse off than you. And that is important to remember. But what is even more important is to remember that your issues matter to. You are allowed to hurt and struggle like anyone else.’ I’ll never forget that,” Patton admitted, “She told me that when I was ten maybe? I dunno. I memorized it word for word. Took me forever.”

Virgil fiddled with his straw as he mulled his friend’s words over. He eventually looked back up at the other boy. Patton smiled softly at him, and Virgil couldn't help but return it. Somehow, talking to Patton always made him feel a bit lighter.

“Thanks Patton,” he muttered, “I really needed that.”

“No problem honey, I always have a jamming good time with you,” Patton said with a smile as he picked up the said condiments from the centerpiece of the cafe table.

Virgil snorted. What a dork.

[artificialqueens]

City of Stars (Pearlet) - Leatwerpenn

A/N - Hi everyone. Thank you SO MUCH for the response to this fic both on AQ and my own blog. So many of you have been messaging me about it and it is super sweet and I’m humbled :) I have actually gone back and edited the Prologue and Chapter 1, the story has not changed at all - just corrections to grammar, etc. You can find it on my blog if you are interested :) HERE City of stars, are you shining just for me?

Chapter 2 (2010) LA. Winter. Matt didn’t mind traffic, it only bothered him when he was in a rush; normally he wasn’t, but today – today he was. Matt fiddled with the radio in his second favourite vintage car, until he landed on his favourite jazz radio station. He collected cars. He liked them. But he liked vintage cars the most. Matt glanced at the car in front and saw it was a disgusting Prius. Figures – Matt thought. Typical LA poor girl car. How boring, but that could easily be me. He sighed. Matt was in a rush, he needed to get home, and soon, before he was eaten alive for being lazy when he had actually worked really hard this morning. Matt glanced at himself in his side mirror. Matt was handsome, he didn’t doubt that. But he wasn’t the kind of man that wanted to be liked because of his appearance. Many referred to him as a hipster, but he honestly didn’t really understand what that meant. He just liked what he liked. And if that made him a hipster, then so be it. Matt had sandy blonde hair that was shaved at the sides, and longer on the top. He had blue eyes, however either sunglasses or his regular glasses often covered them, as he couldn’t see for shit without them. He had his septum pierced which he got as a dare when he was younger, but decided to just kept it otherwise a weird smell lingered under his nose. He rarely smiled because he felt like he didn’t have much to smile about anymore. He was dressed casually in a white t-shirt with a vintage looking shirt, open, over the top. He wore jogging bottoms/sweatpants because to him they were comfy. One of his current jobs required him to dress up a lot in the evenings, so during the day he was always lazy and often looked a mess. Meh. Matt was growing impatient, as the car in front didn’t move when there was a blatant gap in front of it. C’mon you moron. Move! He thumped on his horn. He could see the person in the car in front move around to look at him. But, their car didn’t move. For fuck sake. Matt honked over and over; eventually he grabbed his steering wheel and manoeuvred his car around the still motionless car in front of him. Through his sunglasses he glared at the driver of the vehicle. “Stop daydreaming dork some of us have shit to do!” Matt yelled. However, Matt felt his features soften as he made eye contact with the other driver, he could have sworn he saw gold in his eyes. Wow, I have never seen someone look like him before. Fuck! What the hell? Matt felt an odd warming sensation in his chest in that moment. He scolded himself mentally, before switching gears and speeding off down his side of the highway wearing a frown on his face. The warmth in his chest disappeared. What the fuck was that? Matt stared into the tail-lights of the car in front of him, and all he could see were stars. (1999) 11 years before. New York. Winter. “Matthew, why are you home so late? What were you thinking staying out so late? You are 13 years old Matthew, curfew is at 9 and its 11!” The older balding middle-aged man continued to roar in Matt’s face. Matt zoned out after his father called him Matthew, which he hated, especially coming from that man’s lips anyway. Fuck all the way off. “Sorry Pa, I lost track of time, I was just with Matt S hanging out at his place.” Matt regretted saying his friend’s name, as he saw his father grow even angrier. He stood there and listened to his father call his only real friend all of the homophobic slurs under the sun. Matt just stood and took it. It was regular for him. “You had better be only friends with that boy; otherwise you will live to regret it. Answer me! What were you doing with him Matthew?” Matt felt the moisture leave his mouth. “We were just messing around with Matt’s new guitar. I was playing his keyboard, just general teenage stuff. It was no big deal. There were some other kids from school there, but you don’t know them, so I didn’t think to mention them.” Lie, lie, lie. “Sorry dad, I honestly just lost track of time. It won’t happen again.” His father grunted a ‘fine’ and ordered him to go upstairs. Matt took the stairs two at a time and shut the door behind him. He grabbed the landline phone from his bedroom side table and pulled it over to the cupboard. Matt yanked the door open and shut himself inside, holding the phone in his hands. He punched the familiar numbers into the phone and held the phone in his hands and up to his ear. Breathe in. Breathe out. “Detox?” The familiar voice answered the phone and Matt smiled. “Hello? …Matt? Is that you?” Matt sighed “Yeah it’s me, I have to be quick because my dad is already mad at me, but I wanted to let you know I got home okay.” “I’m glad Matt, cheers for the blowjob. Night cutie” Matt panicked at hearing it out loud. He was paranoid his dad would be listening on the other line. Matt hung up, left the cupboard, and crept to return the phone. He opened his bedroom door and sneaked to the top of the stairs. He could see his dad, sound asleep, on the couch. Thank god. Matt crept back into his bedroom and got under the covers. He smiled to himself. No problem, Detox. He closed his eyes and all he could see were stars. (2010) LA. Winter. “Why are you so late? You know I have to be at the studio in 30 minutes Matthew. And I asked you to get me a Starbucks on the way! Where is my skinny latte and my gluten free sandwich?” Matt groaned. Shut the fuck up for once woman and let me speak; and stop calling me Matthew! He continued to listen to his girlfriend, of nearly 8 years, continue to bust his balls about everything, which was out of his control. Okay, maybe I forgot her Starbucks, big fucking deal. The studio has a coffee shop. Jesus. “Good morn-ting to you too. Gosh, I have missed you. Would you care to know how my morning went?” Matt decided that if she was going to be a bitch, then he would be too. Fuck it. Matt put his keys onto the array of hooks which were next to the front door. He slipped his flip flops off and moved further into the building. “I don’t have time to listen to your bullshit Matthew. I’m filming today and doing re-shoots tonight, because that fucking new Hollywood Barbie Trixie, wasn’t standing on the correct mark last night. Wait, why am I bothering talking to you. I won’t be home tonight. Bye” Courtney’s lips graced Matt’s cheek as she grabbed her own keys and sashayed off, slamming the door behind her. Thank god – Matt Thought. Matt sauntered his way through his lavish house. Truth be told, if it weren’t for Courtney, then he wouldn’t be living the lap of luxury he was at the moment. Courtney had always been the star in the relationship; Matt was just the guy she liked to sleep with. Courtney never took Matt to any of her events. And when questioned about her relationship status by the media, she always managed to dodge her way through without answering the question. Matt didn’t mind. Courtney kept his father quiet and Matt didn’t mind bumming off of Courtney’s wage, because Courtney was a grade ‘A’ cunt. She wasn’t always that way. They loved each other once, but fame changes people and that was partly the reason why his own talents scared him. The basement was where Matt spent most of his time, apart from the garage of course. The basement was littered with boxes containing his collections of vintage and jazz related memorabilia, which he had been collecting for as long as he could remember. He collected anything related to Jazz. He loved Jazz. Jazz made him happy, it reminded him of his mother. Matt walked over to the furthest corner of the room and picked up a couple of boxes, moving them aside. This was where he hid his drug stash. Matt still felt like a teenager hiding drugs, but Courtney would never allow it, and he liked to smoke blunts. Sue me. With the blunt dangling from his lips, he moved the boxes around. He moved over to his mini fridge and grabbed a beer. Fuck it, it’s only 11 but who cares. He popped the cap off and took a sip. Matt couldn’t handle his drink at all, so most of the time he stuck to beer. Beer was safe. Matt moved the hood off from the top of his piano. His most prized possession. He reached over to a coaster that sat on top of a box and placed it on top of the piano, then rested his beer. He sat at the stool, blunt still in mouth, hovered his fingers over the top of the keys. Matt’s fingers glided over the keys although it was second nature. This was his trademark melody. He had been playing this melody to himself for most of his life, his mother taught it to him when he was young. It was his favourite and it always calmed him. What didn’t calm Matt however, was the fact that even though he had been playing this particular melody for 11 years, he still couldn’t find the right words to go with it. Matt stopped suddenly and snatched the blunt from his own mouth, stamping it out under his foot. Fuck, if Courtney see’s that she’s going to do her nut. Matt got up from the stall and cleaned up the mess he had made. He then sat back at the stool grunting in frustration. Matt looked over the large black grand piano, with a bitter taste in his mouth. How was it possible that what he loved the most, was what bought him so much pain and frustration? Fuck my life. _______________________________________ Saturday nights were always the nights that Matt got to see his friends, regardless of whether or not Courtney was working. Tonight however, was a little different. Usually, his small friendship group headed into downtown LA, but there had been an accident on the highway and none of them could be bothered to drive that far. This annoyed Matt, as one his favourite Jazz clubs (one that was actually still open and operating), was right near where they usually drank; and Matt often liked to ditch his friends an hour early just to go and enjoy the music. Tonight however, he was in some club called ‘Busby’s’. Which apparently, was fine with serving underage kids, as he was with company who were only 20 and none of them had been asked for ID. Matt was a middle grounder among his friendship group as he was 24, but Willam, 26, was the only other older guy out tonight; everyone else was underage, and that made Matt feel uneasy. Usually, this didn’t bother Matt, their usual haunts knew that the other guys were underage, but the other guys didn’t usually drink so much. There must have been something in the air, because tonight the younger members of the group were apparently in the mood to get wasted. Matt just, wasn’t. Not tonight anyway. “Why the fuck are you wearing a suit moron? You’re not off to marry that bitchy blonde whore are you?” Willam screeched at Matt from across the table. Matt actually really liked Willam, he was one of a kind. Willam was very openly gay, which Matt had huge respect for. Willam also did drag, which Matt found fascinating, but he would never tell Willam that. They met each other through Detox as Willam and Detox used to date. Detox was Matts only friend for years until he was killed in a car accident 5 years ago. Matt never felt the same after that. Detox knew everything about Matt. Matt loved and hated that all of his darkest secrets died when Detox did. “Don’t call her a whore man, you know how annoyed I get when you guys hate on her” Matt sighed and looked into his beer. “What do you expect? She treats you like garbage and it drives us mad. Dude! Dump her! You do not need that little bitch to be amazing.” Jake looked sincere as he made his case, but Matt didn’t take any of it in. “It doesn’t matter how hot she is and how freaky she is in the bedroom. There are always hotter and freakier women. Trust me.” Scarlet, one half of Matt’s only two female friends winked at him. Matt always felt like she had a crush on him, but honestly the thought of being with her made him afraid. “Anyway, can we stop talking about trying to make Matt do something he doesn’t want to do, and go back to the first question? Matt, why do you look so dapper tonight? Are you working?” Trust Sang to segue from another uncomfortable conversation. Matt smiled at Sang and sent him a silent prayer. I owe you one dork, but you actually didn’t need too. “Actually, there’s a restaurant that wants a part time pianist to play some evenings right near here, thought I would check it out before I go home. I have a lot of work right now, but if I’m being honest, I have been considering leaving Courtney for a while now. But that means giving up a lot of the luxuries that I have accustomed to, and I’d never be able to afford them in my life time. So, you know. More work, more cash…” Matt looked up to see his 4 friends with open mouths. Jesus, do I have something on my face? Fuck, did I just say I was going to leave Courtney? “You’re leaving Courtney - Fucking hell! Congratulations! Let’s get shots!” Willam jumped up and went to the bar to order more booze. The other two guys had happy expressions, but Scarlet, she looked ecstatic. Fuck. Matt tried to call after Willam but it was falling on death ears, Willam just kept waving his arm behind his back, as though he was trying to shut Matt up. Matt panicked; he hadn’t actually meant to divulge that detail about leaving Courtney to his friends yet. Matt however, was lazy and he felt too drunk to try and adjust the mistake he had made. He just sat back and took a swig of his beer. Matt felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. He chatted with his friends for most of the evening before leaving the bar and driving to his next location.

_______________________________________ Matt honestly had no idea why he liked his violet coloured pocket square so much. He didn’t really enjoy the colour purple, he much preferred deep blues because they accentuated his eyes. But he wanted to appear smart and put together, so he grabbed it from the back of his car and tucked it into place. He also added a tie which was the same violet colour. Matt looked handsome. His dark navy suit bought out his bright blue eyes and the colour looked lovely against his crisp white shirt, and the unique violet pocket square and tie. Matt took his glasses off and put them into the cup holder of his car before flipping down the visor and turning the light on in his car. Matt hated wearing contacts, but he hated playing in darker clubs with odd lighting with his glasses on, as he despised paying the extra 50 bucks for anti-glare on his lenses. He didn’t even know if they would want him to play, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. He looked in the mirror and put his contacts in. Matt grabbed his wallet and keys and locked his car. The restaurant was quite fancy. It had a strong couple’s vibe and followed a deep red and romantic colour scheme. If Matt was in a normal functional relationship, this would be the kind of place he would love to bring Courtney. “Good evening sir, how can I help you?” An older man smiled at him as he greeted him and Matt already liked the feel of the place. Matt had a tendency to get his hopes up too soon but he couldn’t help himself. “Hello. I know this is weird, but I heard through the grapevine that you were short of a pianist on some nights. I happen to be a pianist and I just wanted to check the place out.” Matt smiled warmly at the older man who immediately started to gush and compliment Matt. Matt noticed that there were only a few patrons still in the restaurant. He glanced at his watch and saw it was 12.30 already. Jesus, I didn’t even notice it was so late. Matt soon discovered that the restaurant was a family run business and that the front of house was actually the owner. His name was Charlie. Matt liked Charlie. Charlie suggested that Matt should return in the morning and play for him. He was actually thankful that he wasn’t asked to play tonight as he felt a little buzzed and he didn’t want to fuck up something that felt right. _______________________________________ Matt loved LA at night, especially on the weekends. Even the darkest corners of the city had life. It was why he liked it in LA. He missed New York. New York was his home but it also held a lot of pain. LA didn’t hold any pain to Matt and that was why he loved walking around at night, in any direction, just enjoying the life of the city. Matt had walked in the opposite direction of his car when he left the club but it was starting to get later. 1.00am, huh. Matt stopped, turned around and began walking back in the exact same direction he had walked not 5 minutes before. He wasn’t really paying attention to any of the buildings. He just enjoyed the company of the city. Matt could see his car in the distance at the end of the street. He smiled a little to himself. He loved his cars, probably more than he loved anything. Matt stopped. He felt a warmth in his chest and he heard the faint sound of the piano track that sounded all too familiar to him. What. The. Fuck? Matt looked to his left and he saw the neon sign that read ‘Plaza’, lit with an array of bright rainbow colours. Matt groaned. Really. He closed his eyes and continued to listen to the piano play. How is my song playing in a gay club? Matt opened the door and walked straight through into the main area of the club. He didn’t get stopped at the door or asked to pay. The club was quiet considering it was still fairly early for a Saturday, but Matt didn’t think about it too much. This was due to the beautiful woman swaying her hips on the stage, to the tune of a piano. Holy shit she is hot. Matt stood still, speechless, in the shadows at the back of the club. He was about to leave when suddenly, the woman started to whistle along to the song. Matt couldn’t take his eyes off of her tiny waist. His eyes travelled up her body and when he looked at her eyes he could have sworn he saw gold in them. Matt could feel his pants getting tighter. What is happening?

City of stars Are you shining just for me? City of stars There’s so much that I can’t see Matt was speechless. He couldn’t believe that this woman was singing along to his music. He couldn’t believe that she even had his music, but most of all, Matt couldn’t believe how attracted to this woman he was. He could feel sweat building on his brow as he watched her with fascination. Who knows?

Is this the start of something wonderful and new?

Or one more dream that I cannot make…. True…. Matt felt his heart hammering in his chest, but also, his heart felt warm. What the fuck is happening to me. Matt watched her as she continued to move around to the remainder of the track. The tune soon faded and she looked into the audience. He could have sworn she was looking right at him. The bright gold flare that was in her eyes before started to fade and Matt frowned. He clapped his hands together and smiled when he realised she was finished. He soon noticed he was the only one clapping. The woman rushed off stage. Matt went to move but he looked down and realised he had a full blown boner in his pants. He closed his eyes and tried to think of everything ever that was not sexy to try and make it go away. Cheese. Chairs. Courtney? Matt wanted desperately to ask this woman where she got his track from. How did she get a hold of it? Was she a secret fan? He needed answers but he was also so attracted to her. He was afraid he might make an idiot of himself. Oh my god. All of a sudden, he saw her emerge from the back room. She wore a frown on her face and seemed in a rush. Matt watched her move closer and closer towards him. He could tell she wanted to leave, and quickly. Matt grabbed her wrist without realising just as she was about to pass him. “Miss, I am so sorry to bother you, but you were amazing. I literally couldn’t take my eyes off of your performance and you might be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and where did you get that piano track and are you aware of who the artist is and…” Matt felt like he was word vomiting all over this poor woman and just as he was going to tell her he was the artist; she wrestled free and fled the club. Matt stood still and speechless once again. He only fully realised that the woman had left when the warmth in his heart had disappeared, and by the time his mind caught up to him and he ran outside. All he could see were stars.