Do I want some of what you're living for my own? Cherry picking, I want what you got, want what you got...

Wendy sat heavily on one of the totes she had just snapped shut, full of unsold merchandise that they would hopefully be able to sell off at the next show. They had already made their money back on the printed t-shirts, so she wasn’t too bummed at how much there was still left to pack up, but after such a taxing performance, she was ready to be carted away with the rest of the boxes herself, right into the back of the van. Just lay her out on top of the stacks, like she was crowd surfing.

She closed her eyes for a moment and spread her arms, imagining it, when she felt her hand smack right into someone’s drink.

“Ah-!” came a yelp, and Wendy jumped up off the stack of totes in surprise.

“Oh my god, I’m so-!” she began to apologize immediately, but her voice caught when she looked up and saw the girl’s face. “...sorry…” The girl, at least half a head taller than her, with shoulder-length dark hair was busy looking down at herself, mourning the large stain of alcohol on the front of her shirt and didn’t see Wendy’s shocked staring. Was this girl a model or something?!

Wendy gave herself a mental shake and apologized again. “I’m really sorry, I was just- I didn’t mean to… c-can I get you something to clean up with?” she blurted out all in a rush. Wendy, the cool punk rocker, had been completely knocked out of her stage persona by the little accident and a pretty face.

And to make matters worse the taller girl let out an adorable whine, accompanied by the most dazzling smile Wendy had ever seen.

“Aww no… my favorite shirt…” she softly cried while wiping futilely at her front. “And my drink…” Joy was a little tipsy, but that didn’t mean she had quite finished having her fun for the evening. It took her a beat to realize there was a girl much smaller than herself chattering away as she raced around from behind the merch table to start wiping at her shirt with a handful of tissues.

“...and if you’ll let me, I’d like to buy you another drink-” Wendy was finally silenced when Joy grabbed her hands and ceased their frantic attempts to clean up the spill.

Joy smiled down at the distraught girl. It wasn’t the first time this evening that someone had offered to buy Joy a drink, but none of the others had been quite this cute. Or a locally popular punk musician, Joy belatedly realized. “Wait, you're...?”

Wendy blinked up at the girl and gave her a shy smile. “Wendy? Yup, that’s me…”

“You were pretty hot up there on the stage,” Joy said thoughtfully.

“I-?!”

“I think I’ll take you up on that drink,” the taller girl continued with a resolute nod. “I’m Joy, by the way,” she said as she looped her arm through Wendy’s, steering her towards the staircase that would take them up to the bar on the mezzanine.

Despite the lights being on, and the general movement of most of the concert attendees towards the exit, the rock club was still technically open, and would remain so for several more hours yet. Wendy had her appreciation for every aspect of a show night: the feverish excitement before they began while the venue was still filling up, the wild revelry while they were on stage whipping the audience up into a frenzy, and then the moments like this one at the tail end of the evening - or rather, into the small hours of the morning - where the crowd dissipated, the haze cleared, and Wendy was left to quietly ride out the rest of her buzz.

That is, until she knocked alcohol all over a beautiful girl. And now said girl was allowing her to buy her a drink? Was this really an apology, or just a strange dose of luck? She’d have to start knocking things over more often if it meant meeting a woman as beautiful as the one hanging on her arm. They were stopped here and there on their way around the long balcony by the hangers-on who wanted to congratulate her on “a banging show”, and Wendy felt an odd mix of disingenuity and pride for having someone like Joy with her while she said her thank yous and returned all the high fives.

And indeed, Joy seemed to hug her arm tighter the more praise Wendy got, almost as if this girl she had just met was perhaps a little jealous of all the attention she was getting. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Wendy had never met a girl after a show before, but it usually didn’t involve this much clinging. Or any, really. The reason she was at liberty to even begin to entertain the idea of buying Joy a drink spoke to her lack of success in previous attempts to convince a girl to stick around longer than one evening. So yes, to say the clinginess was “new” was definitely a fair statement.

And Wendy didn’t mind a single bit.

She paused at the bar counter, looking up at Joy expectantly. Should she get something for herself as well?

“Just a tequila for me,” Joy said right away.

“Two, please!” Wendy added brightly, and Joy couldn’t help a smile at the cute exclamation. She turned to lean her back against the bar, her elbows resting on the polished wood while they waited for the two shots, and she noticed Wendy pointedly staring at the colorful array of bottles lined along the back wall of the bar in an attempt to avoid her gaze.

She nudged Wendy with her shoulder. “It really was a great show, you know,” she agreed, with the faintest of slurs. “I think you may have made a new fan~”

Wendy glanced up at her with a mix of shyness and cheekiness dancing across her expression in quick rotation. “A new fan? I guess that means we still have a long way to go, even in the local scene,” she sighed.

Joy shook her head. “I’m new to the 'scene' itself, I guess you could say. I’m just going to school out here,” she mentioned as she stood up straighter to accept their drinks. She held Wendy’s shot out to her and the shorter girl gratefully accepted. “It was pure chance that I was at school late today and you were having a show here.”

Wendy suddenly recalled that this rock club was right next to a college campus. “Lucky me,” she heard herself say before quickly plucking the lime off the salted rim and raising the glass to her lips to cover her embarrassment.

“Ah, wait!” Joy stalled, and threaded her arm through Wendy’s. “A love shot~”

“Ch-cheers…” Wendy stuttered with a bright blush before taking her shot.

Joy pulled a face after throwing back the tequila and immediately bit down on her little lime wedge, and Wendy did the same, smiling at her with it between her teeth.

“Charming,” Joy laughed with a wide smile, rolling her eyes as she took the lime out of Wendy’s mouth and returned their empty shot glasses to the bartender. “But this still doesn’t make up for the drink you spilled,” she pouted at the shorter girl.

"Oh...?" Wendy blinked up at her, noting how their arms were still linked, and that Joy was standing awfully close. “D-did you want me to get you another…?” But with their hooked arms, Joy pulled Wendy closer still and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, seeing as the punk rocker wasn’t quite taking her hints.

While Joy had said that she was a college student, Wendy still couldn’t be entirely certain that the taller girl wasn’t also a part time model, or perhaps an aspiring actress - she was just that beautiful - and as such, she had somewhat expected the usual cherry chapstick taste of her lips. Or maybe the pasty flavor of a lipstick, or the novel-inspired sweet strawberry taste that accompanied a blossoming romance, or even something that Wendy was more used to at these kinds of shows: the pungent, acrid taste of nicotine and cigarettes.

But that was not Joy. No, Joy’s lips were tart with lime, and just a little bit salty. She tasted immediate - in the moment - and Wendy regretted how quickly the kiss ended as Joy pulled away.

Only after her eyes finally opened did she realize it was because they were being interrupted by one of her own bandmates.

“Not to interrupt,” Rosé, the lead guitarist for The Lost Boys, began, “But we’re almost finished loading the van… are you…” and the tall brunette paused to eye Joy with a kind smile before returning her gaze to Wendy. “Are you coming with?”

“Loading the- oh!” Wendy suddenly gasped. “Wait, your shirt!” And Wendy belatedly realized she had a fistful of Joy’s soiled shirt in her hand. When did she…? “Please, take one of ours. It’s on me, for ruining yours.”

Joy looked down at her ruined shirt, and then smiled back up at Wendy. “I think I may have a new favorite shirt…”

“Right…” Rosé interrupted again, awkwardly. “Should I tell them to hold off on carting the shirts out, then?”

Wendy nodded with a lopsided smirk, and Rosé excused herself with a chuckle and shake of her head.      

“Are you going to help me try it on~?” Joy asked as she settled her arms more comfortably around Wendy’s neck.

And, in a moment that Wendy would be proud to recall for many weeks afterwards, she managed to keep a straight face while replying, “You’ll have to pick one out, first.”

Although, if we’re being quite honest, when does Wendy ever do anything straight?