Chapter Text
The song ended with screeching guitar strings and crashing cymbals.
“That little number was Most Best, a new song from our upcoming EP: Shoot First, Aim Later. We’re gonna take a break, but be sure to stick around for our next set. I’m Sigrun Eide, and we’re the Troll Hunters!”
Sigrun stepped away from her microphone and dropped her guitar on the stand. Before the rest of the band could leave the stage, she whirled and leveled a finger at Emil. “What was that?!”
Emil stood back from his keyboard and flexed his fingers. “What was what? I played perfectly! That second bridge—“
“Was supposed to be a guitar solo!” Sigrun growled. “I specifically said that, but you—“
Behind them, Tuuri laid her drumsticks down and sighed. Those two would spend the next ten minutes arguing. She could try to mediate—again—but it probably wouldn’t make a difference. Sigrun would shout that Emil didn’t respect her leadership, Emil would whine that Sigrun didn’t appreciate his “artistic vision”, and by the time the next set started they’d be back to talking about what they were going to do when the band made it big. Personally, Tuuri had other things she’d rather do during her break.
She glanced around for Lalli on her way to the bar, but he’d fled the stage as soon as the last note died away. Her cousin usually disappeared during the breaks—Tuuri suspected Mikkel let him hide out in the back room. The bar’s owner looked intimidating, but underneath he seemed to have a soft spot. After all, he let the Troll Hunters play regular gigs at the Mad Moose, and that showed at least some capacity for compassion. They probably weren’t hurting his business—much—but Tuuri doubted they were helping it.
Right now the burly proprietor was busy fulfilling his other role: bouncer. Tuuri could see him over by the door, calmly suggesting to two young men that they come back with proper ID or not at all. That left the new bartender to wait on Tuuri. Perfect.
“Hi there! Can I help you?” The red-haired man asked. He favored Tuuri with a smile that reached all the way up to his green eyes.
Tuuri grinned back. “A glass of water, please.” Nothing stronger for her tonight—she had to get the beat-up van full of instruments and equipment home in one piece. Neither of the boys could drive the rattletrap vehicle without stalling it, and Sigrun—well, Tuuri wasn’t even sure if she drove.
Fortunately, there was more to bars than fancy drinks. Tuuri rested her elbows on the bar and watched the new bartender scoop ice into a glass. He was tall and thin—not broad and muscled like Mikkel, but sturdier-looking than Lalli. His hair was braided and twisted into a knot at the back of his neck; strands escaped to frame his freckled face. Tuuri pushed her own bangs back and reached out to take the full glass from him. Their hands brushed together; his fingers left trails in the condensation.
“There you go! Lots of ice—I know it must be even hotter under the stage lights. You guys sounded good up there!”
Tuuri took a sip of her water. “That’s kind of you,” she said. He was right about the heat; air conditioning was hit-or-miss at the Mad Moose, and Tuuri already regretted her clothing choices. Ankle boots and black skinny jeans looked cool, but they weren’t suited to the summer heat. Even with her sleeveless shirt, she was glad of the cold water. She wasn’t so sure about the compliment though. “Good” wasn’t quite the right word for their music. The bar’s patrons could probably have come up with some more colorful descriptions, if they even cared. Most of the time they went about their drinking without acknowledging the band was there at all—and that was on a good night. When there were hecklers, the last set usually ended with Sigrun shouting “fight me!” and breaking tables.
But Tuuri had plenty of time to think about the band’s success—or lack thereof—while she was playing. Right now there was something else on her mind. “So you’re new here, aren’t you?” she asked.
The bartender wiped the counter with a rag. “I guess it’s really obvious, huh? It’s only my second day, so I’m not very good at anything yet. Technically…” he glanced toward the door, where Mikkel was still reasoning with the underage would-be drinkers, “I’m not supposed to serve anyone without Mikkel over here. He says he doesn’t want me to mess anything up.” He shrugged. “Hopefully it was okay for me to give you water. I can’t ruin that, right?”
Tuuri chuckled. “I think you did a good job. It’s definitely water.” She stretched out a hand. “What’s your name? I’m Tuuri.”
His hand dwarfed hers when he shook it. “I’m Reynir. It’s nice to meet you, Tuuri! I’ve never met anyone who’s in a real band before.”
A blush warmed Tuuri’s cheeks; she told herself it was the summer heat. A real band. It sounded so special when he said it like that. Not at all like the reality: hauling her drum kit up narrow flights of stairs, playing for crowds so deep in their cups it wouldn’t have mattered how they sounded, listening to Emil fight with Sigrun—
“Hey fuzzy head! Quit flirting with the bartender and get over here, we’re on in two minutes!”
Sigrun’s shout made Tuuri jerk her hand out of Reynir’s—she hadn’t realized he was still holding it—and some of her water spilled on the bar. She was definitely blushing now, and she wasn’t the only one.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t be distracting you when you’re about to play. Let me clean that up.“ Ears red, Reynir blotted at the puddle with the rag. He kept his eyes on the counter.
Tuuri backed away. “Oh, no, you’re okay! I’m sorry I spilled that and made more work for you. I, uh…it was nice talking to you!” She turned and fled back to the stage, where Sigrun tapped impatient fingers on her guitar. Emil had unearthed Lalli from his hiding place and was in the process of dragging him into position next to his bass. Tuuri slid behind her drum kit just in time.
“Right, so now that Tuuri’s done with her date, let’s get this show on the road. The fans await!” Sigrun said. She turned to face the audience and launched into an introduction for the next song. The audience didn’t react at all; one man snored with his head on the table next to a puddle of beer. Emil rolled his eyes and set his hands on the keyboard; Lalli clutched his bass and did his best to look at no one.
Tuuri held her drumsticks and waited for Sigrun’s cue, willing her blush to cool. It wasn’t a date. We were just talking! Why does Sigrun have to be so…so…
Whatever Sigrun was, she wouldn’t wait around while Tuuri thought about it. She finished her introduction and signaled to Tuuri, who put her boot to the pedal and set the beat for their first song. With the music pouring through her, she didn’t have time to brood over bartenders or anything else. She was a focused percussive force. Only once, when she glanced up between songs, did her concentration waver. Reynir was still standing at the bar, and he was looking right at her. When Tuuri’s eyes met his, he grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.
Tuuri almost missed her cue for the next song.
Dear Mom and Dad,
How are you? I promised I would write, and look, here I am! It’s even on paper, though I keep telling you email would be faster.
The city is awesome so far! Everyone at my internship is great, and I’ve already learned so much. Now, I know you’re worried about what I’ll do for money, since they can’t afford to pay much, and I have good news about that. I got a second job! One of our customers mentioned that he was looking for some part-time help, so now I work as a bartender a few nights a week. I’m still learning, but I haven’t messed anything up (other than breaking a few glasses, which Mikkel says is normal) so that’s good.
Life is much busier here in the city than it is at home. There are so many people! It seems like there’s always something going on. I got to see a real live band play while I was working last night. Everyone acted like it was no big deal, can you imagine? I wonder if I’ll ever get to that point. Probably not—like Mom says, I’ll always be your little farm boy at heart.
Anyway, I should probably wrap this up. Lots to do! I’ll write again soon.
Love, your son,
Reynir
p.s. Oh! I almost forgot. Not only did I see a band, but their drummer actually talked to me!! She was really friendly, so don’t go worrying about inhospitable city people.
p.p.s. The kitty is doing just fine, so don’t worry about her either.