Contact High

Based on the Brad Paisley song of the same name. (Listen to it here)

Words: 667

Written: 19.05.13

NFF, Song!Fic


She felt her breath catch in her throat, as she locked eyes with the man on stage, I can’t believe it. She was momentarily stunned, unable to move as she watched him play, and she could’ve sworn the faintest smile crossed his face as he looked in her direction.

No, don’t be silly, she began moving through the crowd again, hoping to find an empty table, it’s all just part of his set. There’s no way he saw me through all these people. She situated herself at the small corner table in the back, mildly surprised to see it empty. She hopped up on the stool, before turning her attention back to the man on the stage, smiling as she watched him play, do I want him to see me?

She watched him in silence for a moment, heart fluttering as he closed his eyes, still singing, damn he’s cute…

She shook her head, can you stop being such a girl? Geez… she felt her cheeks flare as she looked away, turning to look at all the couples who were dancing, hoping the dim lighting was enough to hide her blush.

“Y’all are such an amazing crowd! We’re gonna take a little break, and then we’ll get right back to it.”

She felt her face split into a smile as she heard his southern drawl, damn, I forgot about that. She turned back to the stage, taking a sip of her beer as she watched him and the band file down the stairs on the side of the stage.

Now’s my chance, she took in a deep breath, sitting up straighter before running a hand through her hair, just as he turned and saw her. She couldn’t help the smile on her face as he began making his way over, stay cool. He’s just a guy. A really hot, southern-accented guy…

“Hey you,” his smile widened as he got closer, giving her a once over, eyes sparkling, “Why didn’t you tell me you were comin’ out tonight?”

“Oh, yeah, well, y’know…” she mentally face-palmed, get it together, girl! She began picking at the skin around her nails, casting her gaze down, “I didn’t want to disappoint you if I ended up not coming out.”

He shook his head, “You think you could disappoint me? Pfft,” he slid into the opposite side of the booth, “So… what’d ya think?”

“Oh,” she felt her face heat up again, and she picked at the skin more forcefully, peeling a piece beside her thumb down, “I really only caught the last few seconds of the song. But it sounded pretty good.”

He took her hand in his, effectively stopping her picking, and got her to look him back in the eye, “How about I sing you another?”

“W-wh… j-just me? I’d love that, but I mean….” Damn it, I sound like an idiot!

His smile widened and he slid out of the booth, helping you out, hand still clasped in his, “I’ve been working on a new one…”

“Y-yeah?” She felt like her heart was in her throat as he led her toward the stage.

“I’ve been working on it all tour,” he didn’t stop until they were right in front of the stage. He spun around, suddenly nervous eyes scanning her face, “Tell me what you think?”

She nodded mutely, barely registering when he let go of her hand and started up the stairs to the stage, giving her a nervous smile. What is he nervous about…? She watched in fascination as he picked up his guitar, pausing a moment – with his back turned – to take in a deep breath before turning and walking to the mic.

“Alright, ladies, gentlemen,” he pulled a stool over and sat down, getting control of the noise in a matter of seconds, “I thought it’d be time to slow it down. Now, this is a brand new song I wrote,” he glanced down at her, that sparkling smile back, “for a very special woman.”


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