Summary: You were just living in your daily routine: university, work, home. Until one day a missed train changes everything...
Tags: fluff, street musician AU
Words: 1,436
A/N: First time writing for Richie! Big thanks to @stormtrooper-in-clogs for helping me with the summary! I apologize in advance for any mistakes, but I hope you like this one at least a little bit. I'm planning to make this a series, so please tell me what you think! Feedback is always appreciated, especially since I still don't know that much about Bon Jovi and I'll probably need some help with personality traits and such. Also I recommend you listen to Richie Sambora's "The Answer" because that's the song I used for the ending. (gif made by me)
It was getting late and after doing some quick paperwork, you turned the sign at the window around so it read 'closed'. Then you swung your bag over your shoulder and locked the door.
When you'd moved here to study, you'd been lucky enough to find a fun job at a record store that paid well. The shop was also located close to the subway station, which spared you long walks home.
Newark was a nice city and you were happy to have had the opportunity to attend Rutgers University. You loved that there were quite a few local musicians, some bigger, some smaller, whom you'd gotten to know while living here. Most of them you met at work when they asked if they could leave a stack of flyers for their bar gigs on the counter.
You tried to go to as many shows as you could when your schoolwork allowed it, but as good as they were, you found the numerous street musicians in the alleyways more interesting for some reason. Not that they were more talented - they just hadn't managed to have their big break yet and were still fairly unknown, which was often a surprise.
The majority of them covered famous songs, larded with an original melody here and there. Sadly, that was the moment many listeners left to get back to whatever they originally planned to do. You didn't understand that at all. Every popular song had started as a new song too and who knows, maybe they could have been the first people to have listened to a future hit? When you weren't in a hurry, you stayed until near the end of the performance or at least for three or four songs before tossing some money into their hats or guitar cases. Even if they didn't get gratuities from everyone, they still felt appreciated when some people stopped by to listen for a while because that meant they were showing an interest in their music. It was the least thing to do to support musicians.
There were several other reasons to love street performers, one of them being that they provided free entertainment. You were also grateful that they made a walk around town on your own feel less melancholic. For example the way home after a concert didn't appear as lonely when you heard the sound of a guitar coming from somewhere in the corner.
Trotting down the stairs to the underground station, you saw the busker who had been standing there for about a week now. Technically, it was almost an ideal location because a lot of people had to take the subway, which resulted in him getting a larger potential audience than in a quiet alley that was rarely frequented. The only downside was that many didn't have enough time to listen intently, no matter how good he was, or else they would miss their train. A couple of other wannabe musicians had tried seeking attention here before him, but they'd usually left after two days when it wasn't profitable. He was either very optimistic or very desperate to have been there for so long.
Admittedly, you hadn't really had the chance to watch him for more than half a minute yet because after closing the store, you were just in time when there weren't any delays on the way to the station.
The next evening, though, you weren't able to leave work on time as your boss wanted to talk to you about your shifts the following week. You ran in an attempt to catch the train, but it was too late and the next one was due in half an hour. Thank God there was a certain musician to entertain you while you were waiting.
You sat on a bench a couple of meters away from him because he seemed very concentrated and you didn't want to bother him by standing directly in front of him. You assumed he'd been spending all day here and it would have looked like you demanded him to play even longer. Besides, your feet were tired and you needed to sit down for a moment.
He was a tall young man, probably a bit older than you, with long dark brown hair. And you could tell he was handsome, even if you couldn't see much of his face as a black hat was covering his eyes and the lights at the station were low. He was wearing black jeans and a leather jacket - the outfit of an aspiring rock star, basically. Even while playing for only a handful of people who weren't actively listening, he gave everything to make his performance sound perfect. He didn't seem bored or tired at all; he sang as if he had been the star of a big concert in a sold out stadium. That was what made you realize he was born to be on stage.
He started playing what you recognized as "The Wind Cries Mary" and while he was obviously no Jimi Hendrix, it sounded really good. Although he was only playing an acoustic guitar, the solo had that feel to it which was necessary when you wanted to cover any Jimi Hendrix song. It was a bit strange at first because you'd only heard an electric guitar being used for this one, but he played it well and gave the song a new touch. The singing was great, too. There was something about his voice that made it hard to believe that he was still reliant on playing in the streets. He had everything a great singer and guitarist needed.
You didn't understand how you had walked by him so many times without actually paying attention to the music.
As time passed by, you soon were the only person around except for a drunk guy who was sitting by the stairs. The busker absentmindedly strummed a few chords before softly singing along. His voice was echoing in the subway hall and it sort of captivated you.
"The lightning flashed as angels rode fiery chargers through the clouds. That answer scared me into tears and all the grownups laughed out loud."
He stopped and looked around to see if any people were present. You were afraid he would pack up his stuff and leave if he noticed you sitting there, so you stayed quiet to see where this was going because you wanted to hear the rest of the song. The man resumed and leaned his head back against the wall as his voice filled the air.
"Now the years roll on, tired voices have all gone. Now they ride their thunder through the heavens."
You rarely exaggerated, but this guy had the voice of an angel. It was soft, soothing, full of emotions and at the same time powerful. Something you hadn't heard before. The song was completely unfamiliar to you, so you assumed it was something he'd written himself and he did a great job at it.
"There's a world in every drop of rain. Embracing oceans sweep us home again. Come along with me, come along with me. Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie."
A few more chords followed until it was silent again. You opened your eyes, which you hadn't even realized were closed. He looked down at his watch and put the guitar down, ready to leave. You got up from your seat and searched for your purse, walking over to him in big strides to catch him in time. With a smile, you tossed five dollars into his guitar case that was fairly empty except for a few coins. You hoped that was after he had already taken some of today's earnings out of it because he was really talented and only few people seemed to have had the same opinion as you.
The man was surprised you were still there and you were sure he'd thought he was alone, which was probably why he'd only played the last song now. Seeing the money in the case, he gave you a wide smile and tipped his hat. "Thanks ma'am!"
You kept staring at his face for a couple of seconds, taking in his features as good as possible with the dim lights above him only allowing you to barely recognize any details, until you heard your train coming.
"Goodnight," you said before turning around and getting on the train. As you took a seat, you looked out the window, watching the singer walk up the stairs with his guitar case slung over his shoulder.
Tomorrow morning exclusively on Good Morning America - Gary Russo, the amazing 2nd Avenue Subway Sinatra... not only is he an amazing singer, he's also an extremely humble and wonderful guy. He started doing this all as a way to give back to the community.... he tells me that can't believe the media attention he's gotten overnight. Make sure you tune in... I mean seriously... listen to that voice!
