After days of barely speaking, Lindsey has invited Stevie to watch his set at a local club. She's seen him perform a million times but his talent never ceases to amaze her. There was a time when she was right up there with him, many years ago and many miles away. She dressed up, spraying on a little too much perfume, sure to leave an impression. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft curls. Her dress was backless and black and she wore sky high strappy heels. The kids were with her parents and she was thankful for a night out. She wanted to have a drink or two, mingle a little and have some much needed adult time. She felt good about herself when she saw her reflection in the mirror in the hallway. She jumped into her car and drove to the club, knowing Lindsey was already there for sound check. As soon as she walked in, she felt the tension. He greeted her with a hard peck on the cheek but barely paid attention to her after that. His friends greeted her in a much warmer manner, complimenting her and asking about her paintings and her writing. She would occasionally cast a glance toward Lindsey but he never looked up. She left his presence, it hurting too much to be around him and found herself a free drink and a seat at a high top table. She hops up onto the tall chair, hooking her heel in the support bar, stirring her martini with the toothpick-impaled olives. She stares into her glass, waiting for him to take the stage. Once he's up there, she keeps her eyes on him. She can't help it. No matter what they've gone through, she can't look away. He has always had a special hold on her. His set was mellow and mostly acoustic. His voice was tender but strong. She loved this side of him. A tap on her shoulder made her turn around and she squealed.

"Brock!" She said, kissing him. "Oh my gosh, I thought you said you wouldn't be able to make it"

"I missed you and I wanted to be here with you tonight. I have to fly back in the morning but..."

"Oh it doesn't matter. Here, sit" she says, patting the chair next to her. He puts his arm around her, getting a little too handsy but all she does is giggle.

Lindsey watches from the stage, staring through her. He doesn't care so much for the attention, he doesn't mind her being busy but it's more that he is here. His set breaks for a small intermission and Stevie goes to grab herself another drink. She stands at the bar and Lindsey watches as he stands with the other guys in his band. He doesn't speak, his eyes following her everywhere she goes. She feels him staring but doesn't acknowledge him. He's called back on stage and he takes his seat on a stool. His other band members begin playing their next song but Lindsey doesn't sing. Finally, Stevie looks up and he smiles to himself. He puts down his acoustic guitar and grabs his electric one, plugging it into his amp and flipping the switch with the toe of his boot. The guys give him a strange look. Lindsey closes his eyes and begins to pick an unrehearsed song. He sings softly, almost inaudibly at first.

When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
And I wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special

He scratches a dirty riff on his guitar and it startles Stevie. His voice raises in volume ever so slightly and he's staring right at her.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.

I don't care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
When I'm not around
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

Another loud wail on his guitar and their eyes are completely locked, she couldn't break it if she tried. He is practically screaming the lyrics at her and tears well up in her eyes.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.

She's running out again,
She's running out
She's run run run run

His voice booms, popping the speakers and she can't take anymore. She leaves the room, going toward the public bathrooms. Brock follows her, but she doesn't see him. She's living inside a memory from years before.

2004;

Stevie had filed for divorce and Lindsey had yet to sign the papers. They had brand new babies at home, less than a year old and he wasn't going to give up. He wanted her, all of her. She was supposed to be home, not going to galleries and selling her paintings. She was successful and he was happy for her but he wasn't happy with their situation. She was too free, too excited to leave the house. She was a great mother but she was never home. Yes, she would take the babies with her but he wanted her to stay put and he told her so. They fought endlessly about her need for freedom and his need for control and it was all coming to a head. They were over. She could not go on this way anymore.

Their babies were with her mother tonight and Stevie dressed up for the first time in a long time. Her velvet dress was loose fitting to disguise a mommy tummy she was working on trying to lose with long sleeves and it was a rich emerald green color. She wore black tights and black boots, her hair left in natural waves. Her bangs were getting quite long so she swept them to the side, not having time for a hair cut. Her make up was dark and dramatic. Maybe she went a little overboard but she was excited to be out of the house for once. She loved being a mother but being around adults was exciting and she couldn't wait to talk to someone other than an eight month old little boy or girl. He had complimented her when she arrived and he was acting especially nice to her. Maybe I could give it another try, she thinks to herself. He took the stage and he began playing a song she hadn't heard in a long time. She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling as she saw him do what he loved most- perform. He loved being an architect and was very proud of the work he had the privilege to do but his place was on stage. The guitar moaned and he glared at her. She quickly realized what he was singing was intentional and her eyes began to sparkle for a different reason. She burst into tears, unable to hear his message for her for another minute. His voice echoed through the walls as she ran for comfort but found no one. She sank to the floor, covering her face with her hands as she sobbed.

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo,
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.
I don't belong here.

Present Day;

Tonight was a stomach churning deja-vu. She hears footsteps behind her but she doesn't turn around, consumed by tears, her make up streaming down her face.

"Stevie" came a southern accent accompanied by a large hand on her shoulder.

"Go away!" She shouts. "Just leave me the fuck alone! I need to be alone!"

"We need to talk about what happened out there. I'm not going any place until you answer me" he says firmly.

"Get out of my face! You can't make me do anything right now. We can talk later, just leave me alone"

"Fine" he says, leaving in a huff. She hears his heavy boots pound the floor boards, becoming more quiet with the distance.

Lindsey throws down his guitar, not even finishing the song and it made a horrible sound. The band immediately stopped playing, coming to a jagged end as he leapt off stage. He met Brock in the hall, asking where Stevie went and the tall, younger man gave him a nasty look.

"Why the fuck do you care?! You're always in the way! I just got one hell of a tongue lashing from her. She's been acting like a real bitch because of you. I told her she should have come with me but she wouldn't listen. You're ruining everything." He yells, trying to swing a hard punch at Lindsey but he misses.

"The fuck? I haven't done a fucking thing. I'm seriously not even worried about you right now. If you wanna fight, fine, but not right now"

"Tell her I'm going home, if that even matters to her" Brock says as Lindsey pushes past him but the younger man doesn't actually go anywhere.

"Stevie!" Lindsey yells, trying to find her. He looks around, unable to see her. She's small and there are so many people walking around, most of them drunk. "Stevie" he says, finally spotting a tiny figure crouched down by the emergency exit. She looks up and sees him, willing herself to stand though she's trembling uncontrollably.

"I hate you" she sobs, punching him with the little strength she has left. He continues to move closer, longing to hold her. She keeps pushing him away, and he continues to draw near.

"Baby, stop"

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you" she says, as he wraps her in his arms. He holds her close and she cries into his shirt, soaking it.

"I'm sorry, Stevie. I'm so sorry" he whispers. She doesn't answer, continuing to cry. "I love you, I'm so upset. I was wrong. So wrong. I wish I could say that song meant nothing. I wish I could show you how sorry I really am"

"I know"

"I love you"

"I know"

"I really do"

"I know Lindsey, and you know how I feel about you" she says, trying to calm herself down. She is still clinging to him, her hands clasped at his back.

"You hate me" he says.

"No, I don't. You know that"

"Do I?"

"Yes you do" she says, hiccuping slightly, tears still falling down her face.

"You love me?" He asks and she nods, putting her head back on his chest.

"But I also hate you" She sounds like a little girl and he laughs a little.

"We're a mess, babe"

"Yes we are"

"I will always love you"

"I feel the same way" she says.

Brock watches the scene before him. They look just like lovers and he clenches his fists, finding an available exit and sprinting to his truck.

Stevie and Lindsey don't notice a soul. They look into each other's eyes and know that by the first traces of morning light, there will be forgiveness.

"Are we okay?" He asks and she nods.

"Yeah, we're fine but I swear to God, if I hear that song ever again I will kill you and no one will ever find your body" she says in a serious tone and he laughs but she doesn't.

"Shit, Steph!" He says, looking fearful and she smiles.

"I could never kill you. I'd miss you so much I'd die of a broken heart."

"Well, at least that's something" he says, linking arms with her. "Are you okay to drive?"

"Yeah, honey I'm fine. I'm exhausted so I think I will go straight home and go to bed."

"Alright. See you at home"

"See you" she says. He presses his luck and kisses her on the lips. She lets him, deepening it ever so slightly.

"And if you're truly asleep when I get there, sweet dreams"

"Thank you, sweet dreams" She blows him a kiss and turns her back, disappearing like an apparition into the night. Lindsey exhales, not realizing he was holding his breath.

What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.