Crowds have always been familiar.

Guitar in hand, I play songs I've had memorized for ages.

Some people listen, some too busy drinking to care.

My gaze can't help but scan the crowd,

reading their expressions to see if they like what I play.

But my eyes freeze when they land on a boy that looks too out of place to be in a bar.

He's got a button up on, with a tie that's slightly crooked.

I watch him fiddle with what must be a chain around his neck and despite how many times I've played this tune, I stumble over my music.

I hit the wrong string and wince at the ugly noise it makes, the way a few heads turn when they notice.

He looks up at me and for some reason, I want to play a love song instead.