"Some time before the show starts," Yabu said, tapping his foot. He had ordered tea of all things, something that seemed so unfitting of the swanky downtown bar they were currently sitting in, but Hikaru wasn't going to chide him. It was bad enough Yabu had dragged him here. He couldn't say too much to his best friend about his drink choices. "Are you nervous?"
"Why would I be nervous?" Hikaru huffed, hand tightening a little too much around his beer, putting the cooling glass to his lips for a swing of amber liquid. "It's not like I'm playing tonight."
"But you could."
He scoffed. "But I won't."
"Stop being such an ass," Yabu said, playfully pushing Hikaru's shoulder. "These guys are my friends, and they need a guitarist. You could be their replacement when the new guy leaves."
"I play bass guitar. There's a difference," Hikaru said. He motioned for the waiter to bring him another beer, his first almost finished.
Yabu beamed. "That's even better! Bass guitar sounds so much better with jazz music."
Hikaru bit his lip, not wanting to say much more. He had never really cared for jazz music, the melodies too introcate for his liking, too much free style. He liked messing around on his bass, finding the melodies that spoke to him, but he preferred having sheet music to look at, to tell him where the notes fit best, the rhythms he had to follow, rather than letting the music come from whatever soul he had deep down in the pit of his heart. It was much easier to follow music than dig around the crap he had lodged in there.
The subject changed, work and daily life much easier to talk about than music and a possible new gig as a guitarist.
An energy rippled through the crowd when it got closer to show time, expectations rising, and the minute one of the members of the band stepped out on stage, the crowd roared to life with applause. Pianist, drummer, guitarist, saxophonist, they all filed onto the stage, waving their hands, the drummer far too flirty and throwing kissing to the people he passed. But Hikaru's eyes were drawn to the last man that entered.
He was quite pretty. No, pretty wasn't the right word for it. Erotic perhaps? Hat low on this head, eyes sparkling in the low light, large lips in a delicate smirk. He held his trumpet like one would a lover, gentle but firm, as his free hand reached up to the microphone, a low, silky voice coming out, welcoming everyone to the show.
He was positiviely beautiful.
Hikaru glanced over to Yabu, seeing the older man all but smirk, and Hikaru could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as the group started their first song.
"Oh, shut up," he hissed.
"I didn't say anything," Yabu said, taking his tea in hand and drinking.
"You could have told me one of the guys was cute," Hikaru said. He crossed his arms over his chest, sinking lower in his chair. "Maybe I would have thought more about joining your friend's silly group."
"Yeah," Yabu said, nodding along. "But then it wouldn't have been as funny seeing your face." He laughed, and Hikaru wanted nothing more than to slap him. "Enjoy the show, but think hard. You've got an important decision to make."
Next up is orangegreenlove