Choky, bittersweet smoke tumbled carelessly from the multitude of surrounding cigarettes and tangled itself around him, worsening his already unbearable cough. He brushed the murky haze away, hoping that if he ignored it, his throat wouldn’t sting as much. At the moment, he didn’t want to be here, in this hole in the wall back alley club, wiping down tables, sweeping the floors, and cleaning toilets for half drunk college students. The only things that kept him from running out screaming were the fact that he needed this job to pay for college and the occasional band that performed and actually seemed to know what music was truly supposed to be.

Unfortunately, tonight was not his night. Tonight, some local cookie-cutter band had booked a performance and was currently screaming its lungs out, drawing the audience into its suburban definition of “problems” and whining that an unnamed “you” should remember that “every time I look at the stars, I know we’re meant to be together, but you never understood.” He sighed and tried to tune out the noise, reminding himself that he only had an hour left and that even when the music utterly reeked, most of the time he did love this place.

“Micah?” asked a soft female voice from somewhere behind him, jerking him out of his miserable daze.

“ Yup.” He replied, not bothering to turn around and instead focusing his attention on the disgusting mess that seemed to coat the tables and floor.

“ Aren’t you even going to turn around?” asked the voice quietly, not demanding and not shy, just curious. He sighed and turned to face her. To his surprise, he’d never seen her before. She was small, with bright blue hair and olive skin. Her eyes were a soft hazel and seemed to be brimming with unasked questions and untold answers. She wore a shirt with an intricately drawn woman who somehow seemed to resemble her, though the woman was lanky and seemed more serious. He then realized that she’d probably created her whole outfit. If he’d seen her, even once, he definitely would have remembered.

“Who are you?” he asked, his deep voice reflecting his confusion.

“I’m a student at the San Francisco Academy of Art. My friend Jake said I’d probably find you here and that we should meet. I was bored, so I came out to see who you were.” She replied, smiling.

“That’s not who you are, that’s what you do and why you’re here.” He replied, smiling a bit.

“Mmm…true, but I still don’t know you very well and for all I know you could be a terrible person who I never want to see again. You could be boring, or mean, or-“

“Or I could be nice and you’re missing out on the chance to make a new friend.”

“Well, I suppose that’s possible.” she said, smiling coyly. He smiled back, this time a little more sincerely.

“DARIN! What are you doing?” yelled a red haired man from up above. Both he and the girl looked up, startled.

“Sorry, Mr. McCormick. I got a little distracted.” Micah replied, guiltily

“Then I suggest that you get back to work and” he motioned towards the girl, “that you leave him to do his job.”

“Sorry.” they both responded, slightly ashamed. He nodded and strode away. Micah turned away from the girl and busied himself with the mess that seemed to completely coat the tables.

“So…Micah Darin, huh? That’s a cool name.” she remarked.

“Uh huh.” he muttered, trying to ignore her and forgetting that he’d actually enjoyed talking to her before he’d gotten yelled at.

“Is your boss nice?”

“Yeah, I guess so. He’s cool most of the time; he just likes stuff to be done quickly.”

“Oh, well that’s good. At least he’s not a jerk.”

“Yeah, um listen, I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be rude, but we close in about forty five minutes, and I really have to get home, so I can’t stay after and I have a lot of work to do.” he said, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Okay, but I’ll be back.” she said, looking at him mischievously. “My name’s Lana, by the way.”

“‘Bye Lana, see you around.” he half yelled over his shoulder, trying to make himself heard over the music without having to turn around. After she left, he rushed about, thoroughly wiping down each table and putting chairs on top of them to make sure no one dirtied it again. He then swept the floors, scrubbed the toilets, refilled the soap and toilet paper, and sorted out the recycling and trash. When he’d finished, he sighed and checked his watch. Two AM…dang it, he could’ve been out an hour ago, if not for that girl. Who was she anyway?