Harley

Three sharp raps sound at my door as I jolt my head up from my guitar. The sleek black alarm clock reads five-thirty in the morning and the sun is just barely beginning to peek over the sky. 

I've been up since four this morning. 

The bed was amazing, soft, probably the best thing I have ever slept in. I tossed the entire night, my brain furious.

Now that I'm here, it doesn't feel real. I miss the band. I miss Adrian. God, I even miss Gullwitch Cove. I love music, I do. For a while, it's just been me. My family, the band, and always music have been the only things I've ever had. I've gotten good at what I do. People from all over Louisiana came to watch the band play, to listen to something different than the soul-numbing country pop normally played all over the state.

Now I'm in Los Angeles, where the entire world is about to hear me. I don't know if I'm ready for that yet. The worst part is, I don't know if I'm ready to do it without the band. Without the boys who've been there for me since day one. 

Another knock sounds at my door and I realize that Autumn has been standing out there for at least five minutes. "Harley? Are you awake?" I stand up, straightening my loose white t-shirt and trying my best to smooth down my unruly black hair. When I open the door, Autumn stands outside, red hair in a high ponytail, a guitar case strapped across her back.

"Come on," she says, "I want to show you something."

When I hesitate, Autumn raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow and pulls down on the sleeves of her brown sweater. "You can either wait for time to pass you by or you can make something of the time that you have." As she speaks, her eyes are moving around my messy room, but to her credit, she stays quiet.

"Well?" She says, grabbing my leather jacket off of the floor. "Are you coming?"

She holds it out to me and at that moment I would've followed her anywhere.

"Autumn! Oh sugar, I recognized that hair the moment you walked in here." A round woman with a friendly face and deep brown skin begins pinching Autumn's cheeks as Autumn leads me into her 'favorite place in Los Angeles.' 

A café. Sugar Café and Stage, to be exact.

"Hi, Mary Sue! How are the kids?" Autumn begins making conversation with the woman as I shuffle in the back, letting my eyes take in the scenery. It's a cute place. Lights surround the walls, swinging off of the fake birch trees planted in every corner of the room. The place is very minimalistic, but there's a kind of Southern charm to this place, one that you can't find in Los Angeles.

That stage in the center of the large café is also magnificent. The equipment, the microphones, and even the stage lights are all top-notch.

Things that would cost me a fortune, even if I managed to find all that money right away.

"Mary Sue found you a table right in front of the stage," Autumn is beside me now, tugging on my sleeve and I look down into her green eyes. She's at least two inches shorter than me, but looking down, she and I are almost nose to nose. "If you want anything to eat or anything to drink, let me know and I can get it for you."

"Where are you going?" I don't mean to say that. It just slips out.

"I would always perform on the third week of every month," Autumn says, and a wistful look slips into her eyes, "I emailed Mary Sue a few weeks ago and asked her if I could still play. Luckily, my old spot was still open, so I cut a deal with her that I'll play the early morning rush  for as long as I'm here."

"Need a partner?" It slips out again.

I must be the stupidest person alive.

"No thanks," Autumn smiles at me, shaking her head, "This is something I should do for myself."

Within a second, she's up on the stage, adjusting the microphone to her height and beginning to warm up her guitar. "Good morning LA! How are we all doing on this beautiful morning?"

The entire café cheers raucously. Some even raise their coffee cups and down them like a beer mugs. Others stand up on their chairs and whistle. Autumn beams under all this praise and I can't help but smile.

It looks good on her.

"Oh, hush, I missed y'all too. I practically begged Mary Sue for a spot back. Of course, she gave me the five-thirty slot, but everybody knows that you guys are the best crowd to play for."

The café cheers again, then laughs when a guy in the back shouts, "Where's Emery?"

"Don't worry, Gus. When she gets here, I'll make sure she comes and visits. Now," Autumn pauses for a second, and her eyes close briefly, "I will be playing you an original song of mine. Now, mind you, it's not finished, but it's a song very close to my heart and I have been dying to share it with you. It's called Roses."

The café erupts into cheers as the lights dim and Autumn plays a simple, almost angelic chord progression before beginning.

When I was five, you told me, I'd never fall in love

And when I was six, you said to me, I had the voice of a dove

Oh, I knew

Knew your pretty lies

Words that looked like roses

But then cut like knives

She pauses for a second and I see her shoulders start to shake. I start to rise from my chair, but she keeps playing.

You never said I'd be somebody

Somebody as good as you

You always said I was special

But deep down I knew

Oh I knew

Knew your  pretty lies

Words that looked like roses

But then cut like knives

Silence. I see Autumn begin to look nervous as she finishes playing, but it's not for long.

Every single person in the room is on their feet.

Autumn smiles, eyes wide and shiny. "Thank you! Thank you so much! Now, I still need to work on it, maybe actually give it an ending. But it means so much to me that you all liked it."

She makes her way off the stage, fielding her way through the crowd gathering and making her way towards me. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Did you like that?" She says, fiddling with her strap. "I actually wasn't too sure about it when I first started but I kind of liked the melody. Then, Emery nearly cried when I played it for her, which is big because she never cries. So I thought it could be something I could-"

"It was great."

"Really?" A huge grin splits her face. Her cheeks are flushed red and a few strands come loose from her curly ponytail. I resist the urge to tuck those strands behind her ears and then kiss her heart-shaped lips.

"One hundred percent," I say, "The best thing I've heard all day."

The giggle that escaped her wide smile was a sound that was better than the finest melody.

As we left the café, Autumn holding the door open for me, I realized something.

Shit.

I think I like Autumn Henningsen.