My mobile phone rang loudly, emitting a series of incessant high-pitched whining beeps that must have been derived from some song I’d never heard. The sounds were like pneumatic drills pounding relentlessly on my temples. With enough persistence, they yanked me out of my deep sleep and got me out of my bed. The phone had been a present given to me by an old friend who stole them all the time. I never used it to call people, just to receive calls. Awkwardly waking, I tried to read the name that appeared on the small screen, checking if this was a call that I actually wanted to answer. My eyes wouldn’t oblige me though, as rather than registering the name that appeared, they simply provided me with a fuzzy blob that could have said anything. Sighing and hoping I wouldn’t regret it, I answered the call.

“Owen, hi, it’s Sammi. How are you going?” Her bubbly voice excitedly swam through the phone line and into my ears. I felt irrationally annoyed to hear it. Probably, I was still a little annoyed over her brief theft of my notebook. I had no reason to be; without it I wouldn’t have run into Katya and gone to the pub with her. Hostility however knows no logic, so as I responded to Sammi’s question, I couldn’t help but think resentful thoughts.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you doing anything tonight?” As her inquiry began finding its reply, I wondered to myself how long it had been since Sammi had phoned me. Aside from Novel class, where seeing each other was impossible to avoid, we hadn’t really communicated personally since the end of our final year at school, which was over six months ago.

“Yeah, I think Damo and I are going to the footy.” Damo was an old mate of mine that Sammi knew and didn’t like. He’d gone to the same school as us and used every opportunity afforded to him to make a mockery of her. This was no different from what he did to pretty much everybody he came into contact with, but, as with everything, Sammi took it to heart. The best thing about the answer I’d just given Sammi was not only that it would piss her off, but that it was also true. I was going to the footy with Damo and I was looking forward to it.

“Oh…” Sammi uttered, a silence ensuing afterward. I waited for her to end the call but she didn’t. She just stayed on, reticent, apparently waiting for me to speak.

“Why do you ask?” I broke the hush, not really interested in hearing her response, just moving the conversation along, imploring it to end some point soon.

“Well,” she started, obviously having been waiting for an opening, “me and a couple of friends are going to the Cue Club to watch Katya sing and I was wondering if you wanted to meet us there, but it’s all right if you’re busy.” I thought it weird that she could say what she’d just said in a perfectly normal tone, yet still convey an unspoken guilt with the words. If I didn’t go, I knew that all I’d be able to think about at the footy was some scenario where Sammi told Katya that she’d invited me and that I’d declined. Despite actually being delighted at the news of this gig and wanting to see Katya again, I felt mad that Sammi was the one to bring the information. It was like I was relying on her in an important aspect of my life, which I hated.

“Aw, the footy’s not that important, I guess. What time does she start?”

And so it was decided. I had a couple of hours to get ready before going to see the girl I was besotted with do what she loved to do. I was excited for a few seconds before a volcano of worries erupted in my head and spewed molten lava that hastily burnt all my positive notions, only leaving the charred ashes as remains. What if Katya was angry with me for the way I’d left her with barely a goodbye at the pub? What if she regretted giving me the lyrics to her song? What if she’d finally realised that I probably wasn’t worth her time?

The flood of unanswerable questions flowed freely as I began downing beers at home. If I was going to be anxious, I may as well try to counteract that feeling with drunkenness. Liquid confidence for when I had to say something to Katya. The alcohol started to take effect and my pessimistic questions began dueling with optimistic enemies. If she didn’t want to see me, surely Sammi wouldn’t have invited me? There had to be some kind of communication going on between the two for me to have received the call I got. Girls aren’t spontaneous; they meticulously plan every little detail of every second of life for optimum manipulation of the circumstances surrounding them. By the time I’d left home and gotten on the tram to head to the gig, I’d fought my way back from nervous wreck to mildly fretful.

The Cue Club was a large upstairs pub with three rooms. The front room was where the bar was, and also where bands played. It had a stage in the far left corner from the entrance, on the close left corner was a pool table and in between those two corners were a couple of couches. Taking up the whole right side was the bar which was incredibly busy. The other two rooms were full of large pool tables and there were several games going when I entered. I watched them with interest for a few moments. I love pool. I always used to play it with my parents at home when we were all living together. As I watched, I heard my name called from behind. I turned around and surely enough, there was Sammi and a few other girls sitting on the couches with glasses of flavoured alcohol in their hands. Sammi waved me over and I obliged begrudgingly, wondering where Katya was.

“Guys, this is Owen.” Sammi introduced me to the throng of strangers who eyed me as intently as a warden does a new prisoner in jail. I wondered what, if anything, they’d heard about me and what, if any, was there relationship with Katya. I wasn’t sure exactly how to act around these people, so I just sat beside Sammi and answered any questions I was asked. Sammi was so glad I could come, apparently. I had to stop myself from informing her that it wasn’t her I’d come for.

In front of me was a standing crowd, all just talking about whatever, making it difficult to see the stage where Katya was apparently setting up. I peered through the mass of bodies, trying to catch a glimpse of her but saw nothing but more bodies. I was beginning to get a little bored and uncomfortable by the time a guitar chord rang throughout the room. People became relatively quiet almost instantly and the group ahead of me politely sat down, much to my surprise. Katya sat on a lone stool in the middle of the stage, guitar resting on her knees, hair tied back in a pony-tail, microphone on a stand in front of her. She looked amazing.

The room became dim, the only real source of illumination coming from a small light above Katya’s head. I watched her with a smile written all over my face. Self-consciousness implored me to quit grinning, but I couldn’t. It was as if a puppeteer had tied strings to my mouth and only knew one trick. I continued watching, waiting for Katya’s eyes to find me, as she begun her set.

Her voice was astonishing. It wafted like a soothing steam across the room, comfortably warming anyone lucky enough to be listening. It had a smoky quality, almost husky at times, but not incapable of hitting high notes. I let the steam envelope me.

It was midway through her first song – a ballad about a girl stranded on an island who was forced to create her own friends and adventures inside her mind – that she saw me. A thrilling sensation took me by the hand and flew me to the clouds when I saw her eyes light up with what appeared to be happiness. I melted back into my seat and just absorbed the scene as she finished the tune. There was something about her eyes that made it impossible not to be attracted to this girl. They seemed to echo her every thought, unable to hide anything. As the rather large crowd cheered her first song, her hazel jewels communicated complete modesty. She looked surprised, maybe even embarrassed, to receive such adulation. If there was anything she had no right to be, I thought, it was modest. From what I’d seen and heard, she was absolutely perfect. She continued her set and I continued watching, as if she were a swaying coin that had me entranced.

It seemed unfair when she announced that her sixth song would be her last. All was forgiven however when her eyes fell on me and she informed the crowd that this song was called The Wind Only Takes What Wants To Be Taken. As she played, note after intricate note, and sung, word after eloquent word, our eyes were fixed on each other. The rest of the room virtually disappeared as the world became only her and I. The soundtrack she provided was dreamlike; I felt rudely awoken when the song reached its end.

Rampant cheers filled the space in sound that Katya’s finishing had left. Hands slapped hands wildly, unable to properly convey the level of thanks and congratulations that she deserved. Again, she appeared embarrassed. Her eyes gazed downwards as she thanked us all for coming and then began packing her gear. Sammi turned to me smiling broadly and I think I was doing the same.

“Wasn’t that great!” She couldn’t contain her excitement and her hand found its way onto my shoulder before removing itself just as suddenly, as if instinctive.

“Yeah,” I said calmly, trying not to appear as elated as I was, “it was good.” Sammi continued speaking as I let my eyes wander over to Katya, my ears and mouth working reflexively to appear as if I was still taking notice of the conversation I was having. It was only when I saw Sammi and her friends up on stage chatting to Katya that I realised I’d been listening and talking to no one for minutes. I considered getting up and joining the group, but for some reason decided against it. Perhaps I wanted her to myself, perhaps I feared the embarrassment that could stem from being in the same conversation with Katya and Sammi, the most recent and only example providing ample reasoning for such a concern. So, I just sat and watched and waited until Sammi and her friends traded hugs with Katya and then walked back toward me.

“We’re heading off, now.” Sammi spoke to me and I nodded. “Bye.” She said and I thought for a moment that she was going to hug me, but she either opted not to or never had that desire in the first place. Regardless of reasons, I was glad that she hadn’t. My gaze followed the group as they made their exit and when I turned back to the stage, Katya was gone. Confused, possibly even a little panicked and thinking that she may have left without saying a word to me, I looked around the room, my eyes darting rapidly like those of a cat trying to find a noise. Suddenly, a hand touched my shoulder.

“Over here.” Katya whispered, her teasing grin greeting me as it became evident that she’d been sitting beside me on the couch for some time. I tried to act casual, as if I hadn’t just been searching frantically for her. “Want to come for a drive?” she asked, her eyes excitable and unreasonably endearing.

“Where to?” I responded, anticipation and exhilaration beginning to take hold, as if her presence was a vacuum that sucked me into an unknown-to-me world of joy.

“Answer my question first.” Her smile persisted, egging me on. “Do you want to come for a drive?”

Where I normally would have thought for hours, weighing up the pros and cons and possible scenarios that could come from such an expedition, I just answered.

“Sure.” And within seconds I was being whisked away, Katya carrying her guitar case and I carrying her amp. I felt useful and slightly out of control, not knowing exactly where we were going or what we’d be doing. For the first time in a while, feeling out of control felt good. It was a drastic change to be following my instincts rather than my overthoughts.

“Here we are.” Said Katya as she pulled a set of keys from her pocket with her free hand and pressed a button, presumably to unlock the doors. That familiar sound of doors electrically unlocking pervaded from the car next to us. A Mercedes-Benz. It wasn’t until Katya opened the back door and placed her guitar inside that I started to believe the vehicle could belong to her. She took the amp out of my hands and put it too in the back of the car as I watched bewildered, wondering who the hell this girl was. When her gear was packed, she turned around nonchalantly, seemingly oblivious to my confusion. “Hop in.” she spoke, as if what was going on was all completely normal. I scanned over the vehicle ahead of me, taking it in, feeling totally out of my depth. And then I got in.