Lyle Majors (smartassets) wrote in tiberiusswann, @ 2010-11-21 09:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | emmy, lyle |
Saturday September 6th 2008
Who: Lyle and Emmy
What: Chance encounter at a bar
Where: The Shift (local made up bar with open mic night Saturdays!!)
When: Around 8pm-ish
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Everything sucked. Peyton had only taken off yesterday, but it felt like weeks since she had been gone. In a sense, she had. She had been away in Roswell for half a month, and then this past week it was as though she had never come back. And now she was officially gone, and all she had left was a bedroom with written on walls and a cat. Even being near Grid wasn't making that hollow, aching sadness any less numbing. Maybe because Grid was too close to home. She had disappeared on Lyle, and now Pey had done the same.
Laying in bed wasn't making him feel better, and going to that school function would only remind him of Peyton because she would've pretended to hate being dragged there, even though she'd be secretly thrilled to show off her tiny bikini. Hell, going to that party would just make Lyle think about her tiny bikini. So he told Grid he needed to get out and he left, grabbing his guitar on the way. Not that he had a destination in mind, but music was going to be involved. Driving for a short while, he'd come across a small local bar that offered open mic, and Lyle knew this was where he needed to be. It was almost out of spite. Peyton had always begged him to sing for her, and he never would. He didn't sing in the shower, he didn't sing for his band. He didn't even sing when the four of them were just fucking around and making poor Vinnie crazy. And now he was going to sing for total strangers because she wasn't here to hear it.
It was a slow night, not many people signed up for the open mic. Apparently college students had realized that being back in college meant they had to study and go to class, not just have reunions with their friends and get wasted in bars. When Lyle got in, the house band was just fucking around on stage, jamming to a bit of Brittany Spears for irony's sake. Scanning their list of playable songs, Lyle climbed up on stage and gave them the song number. Stepping before the mic, the young vampire cleared his throat, looking out on the crowd. "Um... I'm Lyle," he said, deciding that an intro was needed because his fangs would be obvious while he sang. "And I'm sarcastically awesome with my lame Twilight fangs." He opened his mouth to present them, running his tongue over them. Some girls cheered, some guys booed, one guy called him a fag. The expected response, but at least now no one would whispering about it as he performed. Nodding to the band behind him, Lyle began the opening rift.
You make me come...
You make me complete...
You make me completely miserable.
His voice was strong, clear and beautiful, untainted by any kind of genre necessity. His long fingers strummed the strings on his guitar smoothly, like he had been born with the instrument in his hand. Emotion was obvious in every one of the words he sang.