Maria sat in the club, watching Spinner play his guitar. She felt that every chord he played was for her.
She stared at him, her eyes caressing his face, his hair, watching him with every atom of her being.
He had reached the last song, finished, and ended his set. The audience applauded. Maria stood, cheering and moved towards the stage, for with all these people she didn’t want him to miss her.
He was talking to others, happy and bright, and she gripped his wrist and he turned to her, confusion on his face.
“It’s me; Maria…” she smiled, “I was with Marc and…”
“Marc’s here?” he asked with warmth.
“No, just me…”
He nodded, went to break her grip, then wondered what was so important.
“What is it he asked?”
“I want to see you again…”
“I play every….”
“No, not here, some where else…”
He met her eyes, understood what she was suggesting. He peeled her fingers from his wrist. “I have someone in my life…” he said and moved away from her.
Spinner moved away, leaving Maria standing alone.