“My house?” My bottom lip trembled as a wave of memories and warmth connected with them overwhelmed me.
“I’m sorry if that’s creepy.” Charlie reached out but snatched his hand away.
“No, I’m so honored. Charlie…” I scooped him up into my arms and held him tight as the meaning of his words sunk in. The lump in my throat refused to disappear as the squeeze in my chest got tighter. If I could, I would never let go of him. I’d wake up next to him every morning and go to bed with him every night. I’d make him coffee, and he’d kiss me. We’d snuggle together and share our hopes and dreams until we both helped each other reach them.
As I inhaled the scent of Charlie’s hair, my brain cemented what my heart already knew.
I was in love with Charlie.
For quite a while.
“Trent, my Cupcake.” Charlie kissed my cheeks, my eyelids, my nose, then my lips. “Thank you for being you.”
I nuzzled his neck. “I could say the same.”
A clank on the table startled me, and I sat upright, pushing Charlie to do the same.
“No fornicating at the booth,” Henry said, pouring coffee from a pitcher into the mugs he’d so discreetly put. “It’s not good for the food we serve here.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Henry. We’ll remember that.”
I hid my smile behind the mug and took a sip, scalding my tongue. “So now that the secret is out, what are the band’s plans?”
Charlie took a pick out of his pocket and twirled it in his fingers. “We have a rehearsal on Friday before the small gig on Saturday. Sabrina is working magic on the band’s social media to get the word out. You’re invited to come, of course.”
I clinked my mug to Charlie’s like it was some fancy whiskey. “I’d love to. But I meant in the long run. What future do you want for the band?”
Charlie’s eyes lit up whenever I mentioned playing, like now. “We’re so small, I try to not dream too big. It’s hard to score a gig without an agent or a record deal, but even harder to get them if we’re nobodies. So it’s a Catch 22.” He shrugged, downplaying the kick-ass music as he always did. “Thanks to the new gigs, we can see what resonates with the audience the most, so we can pick songs for the demo we’ll be recording next month. I have too many songs to pick from, so playing live helps us pick the ones worth getting on the album.”
“Oh, to be a fly on the wall in the studio,” I said in a dreamy voice.
“We pay by the hour and I didn’t tell them how many members we have. I’d love for you to be there. If you want, of course. But it might be boring.”
“Yes! I’ll carry your equipment!” I clapped my hands so loud, the couple in the next booth turned around.
Charlie chuckled. “You don’t have to, but I’ll get you in for sure.”
“Awesome. I can’t wait.” I gulped my coffee, taking a moment to admire Charlie’s profile as he did the same. He was such a charismatic leader on stage that, coupled with his talent, I believed the band could be bigger than either of them can imagine. “If you let yourself dream big, what would it look like? What would be the band’s journey?”
Charlie set his mug aside and leaned back. “Once we have the new demo, we’ll be sending it to agents and record labels. I’d love for us to play at a festival or two locally, so more people would get a chance to hear us. Getting a spot on Tough Luck fest would be great, but playing even the small stage at Riot Fest in Chicago would put us in front of a huge audience. Going on a tour with someone in our genre would be the next big dream. When I was little, I’d imagine standing on a huge stage when a crowd sang along with me the words I wrote myself, to the music I helped create.”
“That’s beautiful. I believe you can accomplish anything you set your mind on.” Fiddling with my mug, I held it in both hands. “I’m not just saying that because you’re… we’re… you know. But I think you’re that talented.”
Charlie stroked my cheek, his expression going from cynical to soft. “Thank you, Cupcake.
“What about your career as a journalist?”
Charlie snorted. “What career? I studied journalism for the love of writing. Song lyrics are my outlet of choice. I found writing articles much more difficult as they were not the outpour of my artistic soul. I doubt I could be content working for a paper for the rest of my life, so I have to try with the band and see if I could be happy playing and nurturing a community. We’re in a shit place now as society, and punk has always been about rebellion and fighting for a better future. Being nice andcreating safe spaces is the punk-est thing you can do right now. If those of us who feel lost, misunderstood, or confused could find a community? Well, then we could build a home, a support system so people from all walks of life could come to concerts and feel understood and safe and simply be themselves. That’s my biggest dream. Touring with bands who seek to accomplish a similar goal of uniting people in music again.”
“That’s beautiful.” I snatched a napkin from the holder to wipe the tears off my cheeks. If I could help Charlie and his band, I’d do anything. But I wouldn’t even know where to start.
“Your support means so much to me, Cupcake.” He drew me in for a hug.
“What did you do to Trent, Charlie?” Sabrina’s voice boomed next to us, startling me.
“Tortured him with my dreams about the band.” Charlie kissed my cheek and pulled away.
“Oh, the misery.” Trixie threw a hand over her forehead, then slid into the booth, opposite Charlie and me. “What are we eating?” She picked up the menu we all knew by heart.
