Completely (Un)expected

As my dad got settled behind the sound board, headphones on, wires jacked, I claimed my spot next to him, leaving ample room for him to easily move between each piece of equipment. My dad always engrossed himself fully into his work during a show, not letting the sound or sight of the board slip his mind for even just a moment. Normally, I avoided talking to him while he was working the board so as not to cause any slip ups or unpleasant mistakes in the sound and so that my dad didn’t lose even an ounce of focus.

Sometimes it got really boring, especially if the band wasn’t that good and I was stuck with nothing to do in a hall filling rapidly with shitty R&B. I had been around the board for enough years to know how basically everything worked and though I still liked my little 'lessons' concerning this button or that, just watching got old kind of quickly.

Tonight, I was feeling a little daring, and though the music had been amazing, I was starting the get a little antsy and my cigarettes that I had stowed away in my purse were calling my name.

I waited for a pause in between songs when my dad's vigilance was significantly lessened. He slid down a few levers and, in the few seconds before the next song started and I'd lose his attention again, I turned to my dad.

"Hey, Dad," I practically screamed over the cheers of the audience. "I'm going to go sit up front for a while."

"Sure, okay," he replied, already needing to focus his attention back on the gear, but managing to add, "I'll see you back here in a bit."

By this point my dad had already become too involved in the second set to realize whether or not I had left yet. I stood and slipped on my jacket before grabbing my purse and heading towards the back of the club.

Instead of going to sit up front like I'd told my dad, when I reached the bottom of the bent staircase, I hung a left and walked to the back door. The brisk night air rose goose-bumps all around my body, despite the fact that I was wearing a jacket; a light one albeit.

I pulled my arms in close to my body and adjusted to the sudden temperature change. It wasn’t particularly cold outside, seeing as it was nearly the end of August, but compared to the hot, sticky interior of the club, the outside air might as well have been arctic.

I warmed myself up in the best way I knew how, reaching into my bag to pull out a pack of smokes. My dad didn’t know that I smoked considering I kept it fairly well concealed, making sure to also carry gum and mints for afterwards, but I was also pretty certain that he had suspected it for a while yet he never brought it up. He used to smoke too, but quit when my mom passed.

She'd been diagnosed with kidney failure in her twenties and had been on dialysis even before I was born. I never remembered a time when she wasn’t sick, and though she'd always put on a brave face, I always knew she was dying.

She finally passed when I was eleven. We all knew it was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. My dad became reclusive, throwing himself into his work and I felt lost without the only woman in my life.

My dad and I got closer and that was about the time I'd started going to shows with him. I still miss my mom, but it comforts me to know that she's not in pain anymore and I think more than anything, she wanted my dad and I to be able to move on.

I lit up my cigarette and took in a long drag. I held the smoke in my lungs for a moment, letting the poisons and nicotine burn slightly before letting out a puffy, white cloud into the busy, New York City night air.

No one was outside. The night was quiet around my little stoop save for the faint sounds of music and clapping coming from the club behind me. I could hear the people on the inside bustling about as the band transitioned into another song and I brought the smoke back up the my lips.

My body relaxed unexpectedly as the drug entered my system. I hadn't felt stressed before, though there must have been something that sparked my sudden need for a roll-up.

My reminder came in the form of footsteps behind me and a soft, boyish voice questioning, "Could I steal one of those?"

I turned abruptly to see younger-Frank standing coyly with his hands stuck deep in the pockets of his tattered jeans. My body instantly tensed up at his sight, and I'd figured out why I'd needed that cig.

I had nearly forgotten about Frank, though admittedly, the potential of seeing him again had been tucked away in the back of my mind for most of the evening, and now that I was seeing him, I was at a loss for words, and my body was obviously just as protestant as my brain.

It took me a moment to rememberhow to move my mouth and make words come out, but once I did, I was faced with the task of not making them sound stupid. "It's not really stealing if you ask," I said, packing the box before opening it and holding it out to him. "But sure."

He smiled to me and took out a stick, placing it in between his lips before stepping down to sit on the stoop next to me and leaning in for a light.

He pulled in a long drag and released it into the air above his head. He watched as the smoke dissipated and I watched as his muscles seemed to relax into the nicotine. "Thanks," he nodded to me before taking in another breath of his smoke, me repeating his action.

"No problem." I was suddenly stuck having nothing to say and nothing to do besides pull on the last few drags on my smoke before dropping the butt and stomping it out. I was torn between having another when Frank spoke up.

"Needed some time away from the adults."

I wasn’t sure if he was asking or stating. There must have been some reason Frank had come outside as well, so I figured he was telling me why he'd taken a break from all the excitement of the show, but I decided to at least offer up something myself in an effort to help fill our silence.

"Yeah," I replied, pulling out another cigarette. I'd decided I needed another one after all. "It's not as fun to sit and watch the soundboard as you'd think."

"I feel you there," Frank said, nodding his head and looking off into the distance as he took in another shallow drag. "Having a musician as a parent is cool and all, but after sixteen years . . . Some things get a little old."

"Very true." I paused a moment and contemplated what else to say, leaving the opportunity for Frank to chime in anytime seeing as conversation seemed to come fairly easily to him, but I soon settled on saying, "So you're sixteen?"

"Yeah, late birthday," he explained, turning to face me more. "I'll be seventeen in October. You?"

"Seventeen in November, actually."

He nodded his head and took the last drag of his cigarette. I offered up the box for him to take another as I had, but he declined a second cig. I guess I had been a little more stressed.

"Senior in September?" he asked, breaking the silence I had barely noticed had started to rise.

"Yeah," I said very unenthused and fairly sarcastically. Frank seemed to take note of my tone and raised his eyebrows a bit at my response, giving me a look insinuating he was expecting an explanation for my distaste. I finished off my last drag and stomped out my second, and final cigarette of the night. I blew out the smoke before taking in a long breath and responding, "My dad's going to be on tour for most of the year with this new band, so he's sending me off to live with my aunt."

Frank drew in a sharp breath though his teeth. "Ooh," he interjected. "That's rough. New school?"

"Yup," I nodded. "New school, new town, new freaking state."

"That sucks, kid." I looked to Frank, giving him an agreeing look. I hadn't really considered it yet I suppose. It did suck that I was being taken away from my friends, what few I had, in my final year of high school. It sucked that I wasn’t going to see my dad as often and it sucked that I barely knew my cousins and now I'd have to be living in the same house as them.

I understood completely my father's logic behind the whole operation though. It made more sense to turn my life upside down just once in a year and move me out to Jersey than to constantly be switching schools and missing classes while trying to keep up with him and his crazy tour schedule. That didn’t make me happy about it though.

"I haven't seen my aunt and uncle or cousins since I was in elementary school. I barely even remember what they look like," I explained to Frank to make certain he understood the severity of my situation.

He tried to be supportive about it, well, as supportive as someone I just met and was now spilling my life problems to could be. "I'm sure everything'll work out fine."

"We'll see," I said sarcastically before lightening up a little. "I'm not really too good at making friends."

"Hey, you've convinced me." I smirked to him, accepting his futile attempt at comforting me in my dire time of need.

"Yeah, but I'm probably never going to see you again," I replied looking away from him and out into the open space of New York before me. "Tonight won’t last forever."

"Well, then let's make the most of it."

Notes

This is my first story that I am posting without actually having it all written (as in, next week's chapter isn't written as of right now) so I'm going to apologize in advanced for any slight inaccuracies in the plot. The whole thing is planned but not actually written, but I still like to tweek along the way. With that being said, I do fully intend to post EVERY SINGLE WEEK!! but unfortunately, I will likely not have any advanced updates (So basically, I'm going to be posting once a week only) Thanks!! Enjoy the reading, comment if you like, and I will DEFINITELY see you back here again next week!!