She knew where she was going, she had been there a handful of times before.
Strides slowed the further she got from the slums. She didn’t know these streets as well, sensitive ears listening as her footsteps travelled along the air to bounce off steps and lamppost to tell her where things were in her world. She had found the underground club the first time by following her ears, delicate hearing picking up the music long before others would.
For the most part she had been left alone each time. She had a spot she liked by the bar where she could lean against the wall and the side of the bar making it difficult for others to sneak up on her. Wallflowered like that she was pretty much ignored by the rest of the crowd that sought more interesting activities, there was plenty less than "lawful" activity in the club. Sensitive ears always picked up more than one exchange, but that meant there were things far more interesting than her presence for the general population to pay attention to. The most action she had been exposed to had been two giggling girls that had hit on her, mistaking the tall lanky figure in opaque shades to be a pretty boy, once put in their place she had been left to enjoy the music by herself again.
She wouldn’t come if not for the music. It was some of the best in the city, the acoustics did wonders for the sound.
She found herself patiently standing in line… dark glasses pushed up tight on her bridge to hide the hazed over eyes. Breathing deep to stay calm when she was bumped into by an already drunk female who was eager to enter. The unseen eyes rolled as the “dude… don’t hit on me” slurred out of the womans lips. The guitarist knew she was unusually tall, but she wasn’t THAT flat chested dammit!
Fingers flicked bills open for the cover as she was let in, the throbbing sound within giving her enough vibrations to navigate the growing crowd without really bumping into anyone. She was relieved to find her little wall corner at the bar vacant. Leaning against the wall she waited until the tender approached, quiet words slipping her lips as the cash was left on the counter.
“ Glass of Vizcaya….”
There was that hesitation that told her a brow had just been cocked in her direction, covered eyes turned as her head tilted slightly…..
“ Don’t have it…?….”
She knew they did, most patrons probably didn’t know enough about good liquor to ask for it, it was also pricey but as it was likely her only drink for the night she wasnt concerned on the cost.
She listened for the clink of the glass on the bar, hand reaching perfectly for its location before she leaned against the wall once more,. head tilting ever so slightly down as she sipped the dark rum. She was letting her sensitive ears begin to block out the ambient and find just the music.
They were good, but highly trained ears said they weren’t perfect.
Index finger tapped the glass gently as she took a step back into her “church”. Music was her spirituality… her soul… and she had neglected it for far too long. Left fingers curled in the shadow against her thigh as she worked the imaginary frets in time with the guitar that seemed to have a slipping tuning peg. The guy needed a better instrument for the talent he was showing, he wasn't as good as she was, but he was good none-the-less.