A Recollection of Ideas: A Series of One Shots

I scurried to the shelter of the café that I so dearly loved to relax at. I had my sketchbook and my wallet tucked under my arm, with the other holding up my jacket whilst trying to shield myself from the rain.

It was just another cascade of angel tears in the city of those creatures. It was a dreary Thursday afternoon, just another day off. I had a job as an art museum attendant. Until I could find another job to satisfy my need for art and an income, I would keep working at the local art museum in Los Angeles. It wasn’t the highest paying job, but it would work for now.

Someone walking out of the café held the door open for me as I walked in. I thanked them quietly before hurrying to my usual spot. I grinned to the barista behind the counter as I passed by.

“I’ll bring your usual drink up in a moment, Ale.” She ducked behind the counter, her voice muffled as she disappeared.

“Thanks, Beth.” I called back as I ascended the steps to the second floor of the café, where there was a small lounge area with a bar against a window. I loved to sit on the high stools at the bar, just looking out the giant sheets of glass to the busy city below me. The cars were stalled at a four way intersection, each impatiently waiting for their own turn to pass. The rain fogged the glass. I leaned over, wiping a little circle to see the buildings. Soon enough, it fogged up again.

No one was up here right now. The bean bags were empty, the chairs desolate, and the couches void of any social beings. The tables were neatly cleaned and ready to be used.

I took my spot that I always sat at, the middle stool on the bar. Unloading my wallet, pencil bag, phone, and sketchbook, I spread them out on the silver bar top. I took out a B2 drawing pencil and bit the tip of it while flipping through my sketchbook.

The pages were filled with both started, half-finished, and completed ideas that had popped into my mind. The beginning started out with a collection of flowers, then it turned to animals such as dogs and cats, and eventually, I had begun to draw people.

I drew the city scape, then I drew close-ups of the sidewalks and imagined what the people looked like down there from my vantage point. Then, the music inspired me.

I sighed as the classical music flowed out of the café speakers. This was the stuff I drew.

I would sit and listen to the café music before starting to draw it. I would think about the music and who was playing it. I had sketches of concert violinists who played Bach and Debussy. I had pictures of jazz players with sly smirks on their face. One of my favorite sketches was a recent one of a big cellist tapping his foot to a silent beat.

“Ale!” Beth called. I saw her head poke up from the stairs. I smiled.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to change the music. Do you prefer a station? You’re the only one here so you get to choose.” She tempted me. I shook my head and smiled.

“Oh, you choose, Beth! I know you like that alternative stuff.” I chuckled. Beth grinned.

“Yes, but I know you like that screamy stuff.”

“It’s not called screamo, it’s called post-hardcore.” I clucked. Beth rolled her eyes. She was about the same age as me, a twenty four year old. Beth nodded and trotted down the stairs, figuring which band I would want to listen to.

“Have you listened to Of Mice and Men?” She yelled from downstairs. I shook my head.

“Not a lot.” I yelled back. The extent of my band knowledge was a little OM&M, some All Time Low, and My Chemical Romance. Besides, that I didn’t have much knowledge of the bands. I didn’t know the members, couldn’t name an album off the top of my head, or share inside jokes with the rest of the bandom. All I could say was, “Yeah, I’ve listened to some songs.”

I’ll stick with my classical and old classic rock, thank you very much!

I heard some softer Of Mice and Men rumble through the speakers. I hadn’t heard this song and I didn’t know if I liked it or not. After a few lyrics, I decided that I didn’t mind it as much and went back to closing my eyes and listening.

How would I draw this music?

Someone on drums, loud and furious. They would certainly be making large motions, hitting cymbals with a force not seen my any other music genre.

Bassists would be jumping around with the guitarists, both stringed instruments headbanging to the beat. Their wrists would be tight in the strumming of the strings, their picks clutched between well-worn fingers.

The screamers would be clutching the mic as if it was a life buoy. Their faces contorted into a sort of beautiful anguish, their mouths open as if they were yelling at the crowd in front of them.

I started with the drums. They always intrigued me and I always thought the drummers were the cutest guys of the group!

Chuckling slightly, my hand moved in circles, lightly sketching out as I switched out to a lighter pencil to start out with. As I started out with the basic shape of the drumset, I heard the door open downstairs. I guess the café had another customer. Beth would probably switch out the music.

I heard the person, a man, exchange his money and order as Beth responded with the usual, “I’ll have your drink out in a minute.” There were quiet moments in between as the footsteps of the man faded out underneath the patter of the rain outside.

“Can I go upstairs?” The man asked. I perked up a little, hesitating as I started to draw the frame of the man, just basic shapes to outline the body and head.

“Sure! That’s our main lounge area. It has a nice view of the city.” Beth explained faintly. I kept on listening as the man walked up the stairs. I would get to see this visitor soon enough.

Acting as if I hadn’t been listening in to the exchange, I focused on my new sketch as the man came up the stairs. I had to use all my willpower to keep my head down from staring at the man.

I heard the shuffling of footsteps as I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. The man sat down at the bar, just a couple seats away from me. Out of this entire room, he had picked the place closest to me. Really?

Mentally sighing, I ignored the ignorant man and worked on my drawing. I had finally gotten the outline to where I had wanted it to be. I switched to a blue pencil with 2B lead to start solidifying the outlines after I had erased the stray lines.

As I paused, I looked out the corner of my eye to the man next to me. He was writing something in his own notebook, eyes contentedly staring down at the lined paper. His arms were tattooed up and down. He had a snapback perched on top of his brown mess of longish hair. His feet just barely touched the ground. Mine didn’t at all. He looked about two or three years older than I did and was definitely taller than I was.

He peered over at me as I got lost in all his wonderful, amazingly sketchable features. I wish I could draw him. He would look good behind the drums…

Looking down as he caught me staring, I blushed and worked faster on the outline, grumbling softly as in my haste I made a line darker than I needed. The basic sketch of the man with his arms raised and head bowed as if he were about to slam down on two cymbals appeared on my book .

“Ale, your drink is ready.” Beth called up from the first floor. This gave me the perfect opportunity for escape. I jumped down and hurried to the first floor, where I saw Beth push my drink out on the counter. The rain continued to beat down on the pavement furiously.

“Who is that guy?” I whispered as I snatched my drink off the counter and took a sip. The vanilla in the coffee blended well with the blend.

“I don’t know! He came in and said that the music was good. He put his order under the name Mike.” Her green eyes went wide as she shrugged. Clearly, the barista was just as curious about the man we’d never seen before as I was.

“What’d he order?” I asked. Beth pulled out the receipt.

“Tall mocha.” She read off. I nodded.

“Coffee tells a lot about a man.” I winked as I started to ascend the stairs. She laughed softly as I disappeared back to my spot. I noticed Mike had shuffled around a little, changing his position. I kept on eye on him as I went back to my seat.

I sat back down and stared at the buildings around us and the people running away in hopeless misery from the downpour that had only increased since I had arrived.

Taking a few more sips of my coffee, I looked back down to my sketching supplies. The picture was turning out nice, but something was off.

My 2B pencil had been moved.

I looked over not-so-subtly at the man next to me. Mike. He just kept on scribbling on his paper.

Huffing silently, I shook my head and went back to my drawing. I quickly became focused on getting the man’s features right. He wore a tank top that hung off his frame, sweat staining the collar. His hands gripped the sticks tightly. His knuckles had letters on them, just like the man next to me. I felt inspired to add a piercing. Mike had a couple, so I felt as if I should pay homage to that.

The music changed as I kept drawing.

The pencil drummer’s hair was flying everywhere and his eyes were shut, as if contemplating the moment. His knee was up and raised as he was prepared to slam down on the kick drum.

Something ripped from the man’s notebook. Next thing I knew, something was being pushed my way. My eyes flickered over to a piece of paper that was being slid over my way by the tip of a pencil.

I didn’t look up, just watched the pencil retreat from my vision as I stared at the paper. A moment later, I shifted my glance to the man as he went back to writing something in his journal.

I took the piece of paper, unfolding it curiously. I saw a little quickly sketched drawing of me on it. My head was bent over in fierce focus at a little drawn notebook. My left arm was bent up, clutching in frustration at my hair, my right hand scribbling with a pencil. It wasn’t the best, but it was really cute and it was nice enough for a quick sketch.

I caught the man’s brown eyes as I looked up. I smiled shyly and tucked the paper away. I turned to a back page of my sketch book and drew an image of the man hunched over reading something with his coffee next to him. It was also fast with stray soft lines everywhere, but it was dark enough to get the image across.

I slid this back over to him. I saw him eagerly take it and smile at the image. It was a few minutes later after I had finished drawing the facial features of the drummer that I got another note back.

What’s your name?

I flipped it over, writing down my name. He silently passed it back with another question on it.

I’m Mike.

Nice to meet you, Mike.

You as well, Ari. You’re an amazing drawer.

I blushed at the written compliment. I scribbled down something else and added a little heart, shaded in and all.

You’re too kind. It’s a work in progress.

Mike just looked at me. I could feel his stare bore into the side of my head as I tried to add more detail to the drummer’s knuckles.

“Even though it’s a work in progress, it’s amazing.” He stated clearly. I looked up as he bluntly put the words out in the open. I smiled and blushed harder, my rosy cheeks turning bright crimson. I looked back into his eyes. He was dead serious about his statement.

“Oh, thank you. That’s very nice of you to say. You’re a pretty good artist yourself.” I giggled and pointed to his little quick notes he had passed to me. He chuckled.

“Oh, they don’t capture your true beauty.” He mumbled. I crossed my ankles, hiding my grin.

“You’re a flirt, aren’t you?” I muttered, somewhat embarrassed at the compliment. I don’t get a lot of blatantly obvious flirty comments very often, so this was a fairly unexpected experience. Mike was still staring at me.

“I only speak the truth.” He held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay then, Mr. Truth Man.” I giggled. There was a quiet scraping as his chair moved back. He moved to the stool next to me. I looked at him in surprise. He leaned over to see as I finished off my sketch of the hour. I still had shading to do, but it was done for now.

“Hey, I’m a drummer!” he laughed. I looked at him curiously.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I love my drum set. It kind of looks like that, but it has a splash cymbal with it, and a second snare drum.” He pointed out. I looked at it curiously.

He looked like he probably played with friends on occasion, no actual professional career. I mean, he looks like he could probably be pretty good, but was he really good enough to be in a big time band? Maybe. Maybe not. Probably not. He’s probably one of those posers who just claims that they’re really good at an instrument, brag about themselves, and then in truth, they sometimes play with friends.

Yeah, he’s probably not that good.

But he is awfully sweet!

“That’s pretty cool. You live around here?” I asked him. He nodded.

“I live in a little apartment just a few blocks down. Do you want to come over to my place?” He asked hurriedly. My heart took off at lightning speed before I finally could manage to make the word out.

“Sorry, but I have to get back to my own place. Netflix is calling my name and I need to get some sleep in before I take a night shift at my job.” I excused. His face fell a little, but then Mike brightened back up.

“Wait, can I have your number?” He asked. I nodded eagerly. It would never hurt to give him my number!

We exchanged numbers and parted ways. I figured I’d see him again really soon.

**

I saw Mike again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

It was kind of neat, really. I would meet up with him on the regular Thursdays before my night shift and on Mondays after my morning shift. We couldn’t meet over the weekend because he said that he had to meet with his friends and work on their official “music business stuff”. Whatever the hell that meant!

It was two months after meeting with Mike that he finally blurted out his thoughts. He had stayed quiet for most of our meeting until this moment.

“Do you like me?” He asked.

“Like a friend?”

“I mean, like me like me.” He reaffirmed. I nodded. I did like him! I’d love to go on an actual date sometime, actually.

“Yeah, I do.” I blushed and looked down. He looked triumphant.

I sipped on my coffee when he turned to me and stated (somewhat clearly with a touch of nervousness): “Would you go out with me?”

I just set down my coffee and looked at him with eyes wide before shaking my head. He looked confused.

“No.” I shook my head. He looked kind of frustrated but mostly confused.

“But, I thought you just said you liked me!”

“I do like you Mike, but you know me. I’m an artist. I’m…creative.” I finally sighed. He cocked his head to the side, silently asking for more.

“So…”

I touched his arm and stood up, ready to leave. “Get a little more creative and then we’ll revisit that answer.” I winked. He looked more determined than ever. I had a feeling this would get interesting…

**

The directions that Mike gave me were only somewhat confusing. I had never been to this part of town before, but this place was supposed to be some sort of concert venue.

Mike had let me experience a more in depth look at post-hardcore and metalcore. When we met at the café, he would bring songs on his music player he would make me listen to. One band that I had grown particularly attached to was Pierce the Veil. They had some pretty amazing music!

They were coming to town today and Mike had scored us tickets and backstage passes, saying that he knew the tour manager of the band. I thought that it was pretty cool that he connections like that, so I went along with it.

I wanted to tell him that he should talk to the manager of the band and see if he could get started as a drummer for an up and coming band of the record label.

I’ll have to remember to tell him! I thought to myself as I pulled into a parking space, taking my ticket and backstage pass that Mike had given me yesterday.

The cool Friday evening surrounded me as I went to meet Mike at the side door. He was standing there, smiling and waiting for me. I jumped up and down as I neared him.

“I’m so excited to see Pierce the Veil! I hope they play A Match Into Water!” I giggled happily. Mike patted my shoulder.

“Oh they will, don’t worry.” He soothed. We went past the security guards and into the venue. My stomach was fluttery with excitement. We had side stage access to watch the show.

Mike led me to the side stage where I was going to stand and watch the show. The crowds were already growing out in the front. I stared at all the faces, imagining drawing the crowd with an invisible pencil.

“Mike, this would be a great-Hey. Where’s you go?” I asked. He had disappeared from my side. Looking around, I didn’t see him anywhere. I took out my phone to try and contact him. I saw that he had sent me a message.

Sorry, I’ll be there soon. Had to take care of some things.

I sighed and folded my arms. It was only fifteen minutes until the show started. I started to panic a little. What if I ran into the members of Pierce the Veil? I had no clue what their names were! I just knew that there were four of them! Ugh! I should’ve done more band member research before today!

While mentally scolding myself, I noticed that the crowd had started up in an uproar. The band was filing out onto the stage, but Mike wasn’t here with me. I sighed. Great, he’d probably miss the first song! He better be here soon!

The bassist ran out onto the stage, then the guitarist, then the drummer then the singer. I scanned all their faces.

Wow, the singer had long hair that had obviously been straightened. The bassist had a mane of brown locks that stuck up in a fluffy, spikey mess. The guitarist had gauges and was jumping all over the place. The drummer looked familiar and was waving at me but looked like a tattooed little dork.

Wait…

Familiar…

Dork…

Um, was that MIKE?

Yep. That was Mike. I gasped and my eyes went wide. He grinned at me and clutched his sticks tightly. I rubbed my eyes just to be sure, but he hadn’t disappeared. He was still stationed behind his drumset, just as he had described it to me at the café.

Okay, okay. I was wrong about the whole he’s-a-drummer-poser-that-claims-he’s-amazing-at-drums part of Mike. He really was a good drummer for a big band wasn’t lying!

They played through the first song and I couldn’t get my eyes off of him. He caught my eye multiple times, winking. Mike tossed his head and slammed down on the cymbals just like in my picture. He was my picture-perfect man.

A few songs had passed and the intermission was about to happen when Mike stood up, running to the front of the stage and slinging an arm around his brother, Vic. I remember that much.

“Okay, so Mike here has an announcement.” The crowd oohed and awed at it.

“Tonight, I brought a good friend and beautiful girl of mine to the concert. Ale, would you please come here.” He motioned. I felt froze on the spot. He grinned, silently willing me to move. I stepped forwards as the crowd applauded. He took my hands in his.

Well, as far as creativity for asking me out goes, I’d say this is 10/10!

“Ale, you’re beautiful and talented. When I first asked you out, you said no because I wasn’t creative enough. I really like you, Ale. Would you please be my girlfriend? I hope this is creative enough.” He said shyly through the mic. I grinned from ear to ear and nodded, falling into his arms and hugging his tightly. His hand hugged me tightly to his chest.

“It was perfect.” I whispered to my picture-perfect man as the crowd screamed in approval.

What a great start to a relationship!

Notes

So this was for the wonderful Mike's_Secretary_! Thank you for being patient, my dear! I hope you loved this as much as I loved writing it.

Don't forget to keep on requesting one shots! :)