#piano bars

[nocternalrandomness]

An Embraer Legacy 650 operated by Vista Jets lining up for take off from Palma de Mallorca Airport, Spain

[agentdagonet]

Still taking prompts?? Eggsy disappears every Friday night when he’s not on a mission and Harry (or Merlin) wants to know where he goes. He follows Eggsy to a pub that has dueling pianos. Turns out Eggsy is one of the pianists, and one of the favorites

So sorry for the wait! I promise that I am working on every prompt you all have sent to me. Than you for giving this chaotic and crazy time some meaning :)

So, @fandomrulesmylife fair warning, I have been to one (1) piano bar ever, and it was years ago, and I kind of just wrote whatever sounded like fun to me. I hope you like it!!

          ‘You do realise that I could have solved this mystery in minutes if you’d bother to give me the go ahead.’ Merlin grumbled, the sound of keys echoing behind.

          ‘Now where’s the fun in that?’ Harry smirked, unseen through the glasses feed, as he sat reading at a park bench.

          ‘You’re lucky I respect his privacy.’

          ‘Are you suggesting that I don’t?’

          ‘Yes.’

          ‘Well bully for you,’ Harry closed the book and placed it on the bench, ‘but I’m going to do this the old fashioned way.’

          ‘That’s a fancy way to say “I’m going to stalk my protege that I’m half in love with” Hart.’ However, Merlin continued to be on the line. He was silent for the few minutes of Harry meandering down the path before speaking up again. ‘Why didn’t you just ask him?’

          ‘Ah,’ Harry gasped, as if struck by a brilliant idea, ‘of course! Just ask him why, when he gets back to home soil, he disappears on Friday nights and comes home smelling of cigarettes and liquor. That doesn’t sound like the plot to a shitty sitcom at all, no, especially once you factor in my… affections.’

          ‘And, somehow, you believe that literally following him around would be better?’

          ‘Don’t you know,’ Harry spotted Eggsy down the way, ‘I live for the Drama.’  

          Eggsy didn’t quite run down the road, and nor did he parkour down alleys or otherwise draw attention to himself, but he did move at a fast pace and glance down at his wrist (since when did he wear a watch outside of Kingsman?) before cursing beneath his breath and continuing on. He was wearing his street clothes, black and gold and his Kingsman medal glinting in the lamplight, and Harry couldn’t help but admire the cut of him. Despite every change, and every improvement, Eggsy had managed to keep this piece of himself whole. It wasn’t a facade, or a costume, Eggsy was just as comfortable here in his element as he was on a mission in a full Kingsman suit, and of all things Harry found his confidence the most alluring.

          Harry was so distracted by watching him hurry down the kerb that he nearly missed his window to follow unseen.

          Eggsy made his way past the Prince and down a side street that Harry regularly ignored, due to being incredibly bland looking, before ducking into a door clearly marked ‘Staff Only.’ 

          Harry would claim to have waited an appropriate amount of time, but Merlin would call him a liar. The truth was that Merlin gave him the route to the front of the establishment so he could enter as an average client to-

          ‘Show, Don’t Tell? The fuck is he doing there?’ Merlin muttered, obviously knowing more about the business than Harry, as he made his way through the throng of people. At one end of the dimly-lit room sat a pair of obnoxiously coloured upright pianos, the other was dominated by a bar, and the entire space between was filled with tables obviously designed for patrons to stand at as opposed to sit. The floor seemed to be at a partial decline, as he was able to see both instruments clearly despite there being very little room to move in the first place.

          ‘You hear he’s back?’

          ‘It’s been nearly a month this time- I wonder where he goes.’

          Well that’s interesting. Harry allowed his gaze to flit about the room as he eavesdropped. Eggsy’s been in Uruguay nearly that long.

          ‘Honestly, though- he shows up, he out classes everyone they put in front of him, has a pint, and then he disappears again. He’s an enigma.’

          ‘Bloke’s allowed his secrets!’

          ‘I don’ need t’know his name or where he lives to know he’s talented as fuck and wasted wherever he’s workin’ at.’

          The lights dimmed further, and suddenly the crowd was hushing each other like children. There were still murmurs, the underlying white noise of conversation that pervaded any public space, but the vast majority of the chatter had stopped immediately.

          ‘Good evening everybody- normally we would have an introduction here, as you all know, but with the surprise return of our beloved and the presence of his arch nemesis,’ the audience chuckled, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder as to the story there, ‘we figured we’d just jump into this. You lot know the rules- jars at the front, cast your votes and your requests and you might just get lucky!’ Harry caught sight of the stacks of paper, set up almost like a silent auction, at a table near the front of the collective of tables.

          ‘Excuse me?’ Harry leant toward the nearest table, honestly confused if playing it up a bit, ‘I’m afraid I’ve never been here before- what are we supposed to do?’

          ‘You’re in for a treat, then- we’re glad to have ya,’ A man with dark hair and green eyes said, and offered his hand, ‘y’see where those people are crowded up now? You go up to the front an’ write down ‘n artist or somethin’ and you put a number next to it, an’ then put just the number on the other sheet. Any number. One of the players looks at the number sheet an’ picks, an’ the other’s got to play whatever they picked.

          ‘It’s a bit complicated- suggest watchin’ for a bit first- but there’s no real risk.’ The man shrugged, and Harry mulled it over in his head.

          ‘That sounds so convoluted- I want a dozen.’ Merlin chimed in, and Harry settled for saluting his glasses under the pretext of examining his cuticles in the nearly-nonexistent light.

          ‘Is there a goal?’ Harry asked.

          ‘Have a good time! The audience chooses who had the most fun and they get a ribbon.’  A woman with tight curls and a bright smile answered before turning back toward the stage. The last of the chatter died down, and a set of lights turned on above the pianos.

          ‘Let’s hear it for Rhys!’ Harry watched as an older gentleman did no less than swagger toward the piano on the left before standing in front of it. ‘And on our right is our beloved Giacomo!’

          Eggsy walked out, jacket swung over one shoulder like a model, and tossed it carelessly onto the bench. Harry’s mouth went dry at the smirk on his lips and the complete surety in his gaze as he looked over the audience like a king surveying his people. Harry fought not to look guilty for being in the audience, and tucked himself partially behind some seemingly regular patrons as Eggsy’s gaze neared.

          ‘Rhys has generously offered the opening number to Giacomo this evening- is he trying to curry some favour?’ The audience laughed, but Rhys raised a hand and they went silent.

          ‘It’s a welcome home present- even picked an old favourite!’ Rhys smirked, and that was certainly a code for something as people began shoving one another in seeming excitement. ‘Hope you warmed up on the way here, mate- give us your best Elton.’

          As Rhys had been speaking, Eggsy had settled himself at his piano, rolled his neck and stretched his arms in an arc Harry longed to trace with his fingertips.

          ‘Y’know, mate, let me tell you somethin’, I couldn’t’ve chosen better myself,’ Eggsy grinned, and looked straight at Harry, ‘This one’s for Haz,’ Eggsy winked, Harry flushed to the tips of his ears, and the audience went wild as Eggsy burst into motion.

It’s getting late have you seen my matesMa tell me when the boys get here 

          ‘Seems you got away with stalking this time, Galahad.’

Taking prompts!

[heperforms]

[116sameteam]

New Song! Sho Baraka - Piano Bars

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[onelastreetaday]

"The oral history of Los Angeles is written in piano bars." Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem

Pictured: Don't Tell Mama Piano Bar, 8279 Santa Monica Blvd, West Hollywood, CA 90046    

[meabhmcdonnell]

Piano bars and falling in love

I think true love is harder to see in the mirror, than it is in other people. One of the most memorable times I’ve ever seen it was at a tiny little piano concert on the half empty second floor of a pub.

The pianist was blonde, handsome and uncommonly tall but this fell into complete disregard when he sat at his piano stool and let the audience in on his twin loves. The songs that he played and the woman he played them for.

The woman sat upon a bar stool next to him, long brown hair a heart shaped face and big eyes, her mouth looked like it was used to smiling.

The piano was more than an instrument in his hands, he played with such enthusiasm that it sounded like his fingers were tripping over each other to play the notes. In fact the frantic movements of his body suggested that the songs were playing him. The piano was where everything began for him. He was an artist, he didn’t talk- not really- because his music was what he was really saying. The only words that really mattered to him were the ones that he sang. You could tell by the way he played the piano, the way he belted the notes  out, flurried and impatient  that the instrument was like an old friend. His ability to play was so much a part of his own identity that it was like when Michael Phelps walks on land he looks awkward- quite literally a duck out of water.

When this man played the piano he was swimming underwater. The only time he seemed to come up for air, were the seconds he spent looking at her. She sang complex harmonies along with him, staring straight ahead and opening her mouth wide. And the way he stared at her when she did, it was like he’d never heard her sing before. Like this wasn’t the thousandth time her sweet cool voice would wash over his ears. When he looked at her it was obvious that she was the most constant thing in his universe, his clock, his compass, everything revolved around her. With a half turned up smile and eyes that shone with crystal balls of the future days to come, he stole glances and shared grins with her. It was the most wonderful show I’ve ever been allowed to attend. Since then, all I’ve ever wanted is for somebody to look at me like that.