Another conference, another hotel, another spot on the map. On this night, Glen decided to skip out on dinner and drinks with his colleagues in search of the soul of the city. He could only socialize with the other conference participants for so long before he went crazy wanting real human interaction. There was only so much academic pretension that he could take. He walked the crowded downtown streets in the warehouse district where all of the city's nightlife seemed to be. Girls were out wearing all styles of dress, looking to catch. Guys were out on the prowl. He wanted to avoid the usual meat markets. He had long tired of young twenty-somethings in the typical dance clubs. Some good live music would do him well.
He passed a few places that advertised live music but after peeking inside, none of them held his interest. He was picky when it came to music -- a solid beat, grooving bass line, and a few horns were damn near prerequisites. Good vocalists, keyboard and guitar players to round it out. It was strange then, what drew him to the non-distinct bar in front of which he now stood. The posters pasted across the front of the non-descript building explained everything without really saying anything at all. There was simply one word, presumably her name, and a blown up panoramic picture of her eyes whose color matched her moniker, in striking contrast against a black background. There was something in those eyes that pulled at him and would not let him go. He walked inside and enquired about the band to the woman selling admission just inside the door.
The musicians had already taken the stage and had been playing for almost an hour, he learned, before paying the cover and entering. The bearer of those eyes was nowhere to be found. He surveyed the scene of young-to-middle-aged locals and professionals. Some were on the floor dancing to the music while others were drinking and talking with each other. A drink sounded good, so he scanned the bar for promising conquests before deciding upon where to go to place his order. What drew him to her was the pert ass she displayed as she bent over to make herself heard to the bar tender. She looked to be in her early thirties, filling out a tight pair of jeans ever so sweetly. There was an opening at the bar next to her that gave him his chance.
They chatted promisingly about the band currently playing and the local music scene, feeling each other out. She was local and there with some friends, and knew this band well. She seemed fine with staying and talking to him, a promising sign. In the back of his mind he heard the music stop while one of the male band members said something in the manner of an introduction bringing out the lead vocalist. He turned his focus back to his conversation, which had now turned flirtatious. She was laughing at his jokes, and he was laughing at hers -- always a pleasant surprise. A cacophony of hoots, claps and whistles from the crowd sought to draw his attention back toward the stage but he stayed focused on the woman in front of him who he was really starting to like.
It was the voice that got to him first, though, and made it hard to concentrate on the conversation he was having. He kept trying to focus on... what was her name? Shit, he couldn't ask her again. But that voice. There was a longing in it, a need that made him turn away from what's-her-name and look toward the stage. She was a woman slightly taller than average, with a thick mane of rich dark hair. She wore a classically chic black dress that smoothly hugged her curves and came down to about mid thigh. A pair of stockings covered her shapely legs, and he wondered if they were thigh-highs, or if perhaps she wore a garter. Then he saw them, the eyes that had drawn him into this place. They were mesmerizing, not simply because of their striking green hue, but because there was so much emotion in them. There was a hunger in them, a longing for... something, something more out of this world and out of this life. As she sang she looked over the crowd, seemingly searching but her eyes seemed resolved to the fact that she would not find what she was looking for.
It was a bluesy-rock number the band was playing. It started slow but was building in intensity, giving you the feeling of being lost in a storm. But steady in that storm there she stood, on the mic simply repeating two words, over and over again. Every time she said the words he got further lost in the insistent manner in which she sang them. Just two words, sang a little bit behind the beat, producing the most hypnotic effect. Every man in that place -- and a few of the women - was staring at her as if they wanted to make love to her. She could not have been more disinterested.
"Glen, are you even listening to me?"
"Oh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to be rude, I just got distracted by the music. Do you know the name of this song?"
"It's called 'Feel the Need in Me,' one of their signature songs," she explained, looking a little annoyed that she had lost his attention. He offered to buy her another drink to make up for it, meanwhile desperately trying to remember her name. What the hell was it?!
Back in their conversation, he smiled and nodded as she told him what she does for a living, but he struggled to comprehend any of it. The woman on the stage, her voice, those eyes, still repeating just two words, the same two words, over and over again -- he could not help but to steal glances to the side trying to see her. Feeling clever he positioned himself more to the right where he could discretely look over the left shoulder of the woman to which he was supposed to be flirting. This way, he could see the woman on stage who continued to hypnotize him with her voice and those eyes. It was a smooth try, but not smooth enough. He thought he heard her ask him again if he was paying attention, but he couldn't put it all together in time to give her a good answer. While he stumbled for a coherent response, she turned and walked away.
It was just as well, he really could not concentrate on their conversation with the effect the woman singing was having on him. He stepped closer to the stage walking through the dancing crowd as if it were involuntary. Her eyes scanned over the audience, nonplused by all the adoring stares of love-struck men. They finally came to settle on his. He was looking at her with an intensity that threatened to burn right through her. Something inside told her he was unique, kindred.
