Looking For Someone, Pt 3

Rating: PG-13 for some language and sexuendos.
Summary: You meet the guys in Genesis at a record party, and general chaos insues.


I



“What time is it?” I asked myself when I woke up. It was obviously morning, since the second I tried opening my eyes they were flooded with light. When I got used to the light coming from the window on my right, I noticed I was laying on the floor in a mess of sheets. As I looked around I remembered I was in Tony Banks’ bedroom. There was a bed to my left and a bedside table at my head. I sleepily sat up on one arm and looked at the clock by my head. It was 1:45 in the afternoon. I yawned as I turned to my left and found, as I expected, Tony himself sprawled out on the bed with the comforter around his knees. He obviousle wasn’t used to having other people in his bed, which would explain why I was on the floor.

I stood up, rearranged my sheet cocoon, and crawled into the bed. Tony grunted and turned over onto his right side. He didn’t seem to realise I was there. I rolled over, put my arm around his shoulder, and whispered into his ear: “Wakey-wakey luv.”

He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head. He smiled once he noticed it was me.

“Guten Tag,” he said and rolled over to face me.

“Since when do you speak German?”

“Since last night,” he said and grinned before wrapping his arms around me. He then put his nose and forehead against mine. He gently kissed me on the lips and pulled me close. We were making out, again, when the phone rang. He grunted and rolled over to answer it. I sighed and snuggled down into the bed.

“Hello?”

“So how was she?” I heard a voice ask on the other end. Tony turned to me and rolled his eyes.

“Well PETER, I don’t like to talk about those things...” he said and I grinned. I could've guessed it was him.

“Oh, right, sorry. But dig this: I met this great chick this morning. I was going into the little café down the street, as usual and I was getting my usual coffee. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see this chick with short black hair. She’s sitting in the corner with a foamy latte, sketchbook open, doodling away. Every now and then, she’d look up, scan the room until she found something she liked, and she’d sketch it.”

“How do you know this?”

“I asked. I saw her whole sketchbook; very very good stuff. I invited her to the practice later so you can meet her. You know the practice I’m talking about, the one you’re already fifteen minutes late for...” I could hear the whole conversation on the other line. I was preoccupied with his description of the girl he just met. She sounded vaguely familiar. However, when I heard we were late for the practice, my mind raced. Neil was probably worried sick about me. But when Tony hung up the phone and turned to me, I completely forgot about my annoying brother.

“Yeah, we’re late for the Genesis rehersal, and they’re gunna throw a fit if we’re any later. We’d better get going, luv.”



II



“You know, it does get a little boring,” Tony said as he (sadly) put on his pants. I still had my towel on from the shower (Sorry, you’ll have to use your imagination), and I was trying to not drip too much on the carpet.

“Oh, I think I can keep myself busy...I can just get lost in your eyes, I mean music...”

“You’re so cute – hey, you need clean clothes, don’t you?”

“Erm, yeah I do,” I said and looked at my clothes from yesterday in various little piles around his room; they were mixed in with his, I think.

“Here, try these on,” he said and tossed me some jeans, followed by a red stretchy Speedo. I raised my eyebrow at him and he turned bright pink.

“...And why haven’t I ever seen these before?”

“...Because I didn’t wear them last night?”

“Oh, good point,” I said and put it on. It definitely sagged in the front, as I already knew, but it fit well enough. Then I slipped on the pants which were just a little bigger than mine were. I walked to the other side of the room where my bra ended up and put it on.

“You need a shirt too I assume?” he asked as he buttoned up his shirt. I could feel a sweater coming...

“Yeah, I do. Unless I can just walk around like this...”

“Well I wouldn’t mind, but I think you might get arrested, which is bad in case you didnt know,” he said and pulled on a light blue sweater over his shirt. I knew it. He then tossed me a white hooded sweater from the closet and I slipped on. It fit quite nicely and smelled just like Tony; this was very nice, by the way.

“So, Peter picked up some girl at the café?” I asked as we stepped out onto the pavement.

“Yeah, I just hope for all our sakes that she’s not like his last girlfriend...” he said and took my hand.

“Why, what was she like?”

“Well, I’ll try to be nice. She was very loud, frank, brash, with a think Puerto Rican accent and she was from New York.”

“Aha, well.....she’s not her any more and that’s all that matters.” I laughed a little and he took my hand. We walked down the sidewalk a little until we reached a quiet coffee shop. We walked in and I gave Tony a confused look.

“What?” he asked equally nonplus.

“I thought we were running late.”

“We are, I just thought that we could grab a coffee to go. It is, after all, approximately 40 degrees out, and it could warm us up.”

“I know something else that could warm us up,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows. He chuckled and kissed me lightly on the lips. We walked further into the coffee shop, arm and arm. When we reached the counter, Tony gave the man his order, then mine. I didn’t even tell him what I wanted, yet he ordered me a French Vanilla Coffee, with extra cream and sugar.

Once we received our beverages, and were walking back out onto the street, I asked him about this.

“How did I know what?” he asked, taking my hand.

“How did you know that was exactly how I like my coffee?”

“Oh,” he said taking a sip from his, then hailing a cab. “I don’t know, I guess something in my mind signalled that you were that kind of person. I really don’t know, I just felt it, and I said it.” The cab came and he opened the door for me, letting me climb in first. I sat down with Tony sliding in next to me. He gave the driver the address of their rehearsal space, and we took off.





********





Peter looked at his watch: it was eleven o’clock in the morning. With his non-watch hand, he pushed open the door to the café and walked inside. He sat down at his regular table, then the waitress, immediately seeing his entrance, brought him over his usual: chai tea and a vegetarian wrap. He started to bite into his sandwich, but he stopped just before his teeth came into contact with the bread. He looked over it to a table approximately fifteen feet infront of him. Sitting there with what looked like a mocha latte, sketching aimlessly in a notebook, was a woman of about five-foot-two with short black hair. He was immediately taken aback by her, and he put down his sandwich. She looked up from her paper, let her eyes wander around the room, and stopped on Peter. Their gazes met for a few seconds before he looked away. However, he quickly snuck another glance at her, at the same time she was sneaking a look at him. She smiled, and he did the same. A few seconds later, he realized that he was still looking at her, so he quickly looked away.

After he finished his sandwich, he looked back at the woman at the other table. She was still sketching furiously; the only difference was that now there was an empty mocha cup next to a newly purchased, full one. He decided that he wanted to talk to her, but he didn’t think that he had enough courage to. He finally decided that if he didn’t talk to her, he would be kicking himself for it later. So, he placed a ten pound note on the table and got up.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked and pointed to the chair opposite her.

“No, it’s not. Sit down if you want to,” she said and motioned to the chair with a smooth motion of her pencilled hand. Peter took up her invitation and sat down in the chair.

“I’ve been noticing you drawing things around the café. I was wondering, if you maybe wouldn’t mind, if you could show me them? I mean, if you don’t want to, I understand. I don’t know if I would show anyone my drawings. Well, if they were good enough I would. I mean…” he trailed off realizing how much of a fool he was making himself out to be. She giggled a little and smiled at him.

“Sure, I would love to show you.” She flipped the pages in her book to the front one, then turned it to face Peter. He slowly flipped through the book, admiring each little sketch. Most of the later sketches were things that he found in the café, while the earlier ones were more random. When he reached the last page, however, he was inclined to stop and stare at it. It was a sketch that took up almost the entire page, and it was done in more detail than the rest of the sketches. There, in black ink on the white paper, was a beautiful portrait of Peter.

“Oh, that, is, umm,” she stammered as Peter gazed with mouth ajar at the drawing before him.

“Beautiful. It is absolutely beautiful,” he finished for her. “Do you think that I could have a copy of this? Perhaps, a signed, phone-numbered copy?” she smiled at him and nodded. She reached across the table, took the sketchbook out of his hands, and scribbled her name and number in the lower right corner. She delicately tore it out of the book and handed it back to him.

“Oh,” He said, “I was only kidding, sort of a bad pick-up line, but thank you, Kelsi.” He looked up from the paper and smiled at her. She smiled back, and he thought to himself how nice of a smile she had.

“By the way,” she said after taking a sip from her coffee, “I do know who you are. You’re Peter Gabriel. I absolutely love your work.” She smiled shyly, knowing that this conversation could very quickly turn fangirlish.

“Thank you very much,” Peter said and also smiled shyly, knowing how easily he could make himself very pompous and unhumble. “Well, since you’re such a big fan,” he said as he shifted in his seat, “would you be interested in accompanying me to our rehearsal today? I know that Tony will end up bringing his girlfriend, so you won’t get too bored, I promise,” he smiled generously in Kelsi’s direction.

“I would love to,” she said as she closed her sketchbook. The waitress brought over the bill, Kelsi paid for it, and the two of them got up. As they were walking out, Peter’s hand brushed against hers. He would have taken her hand if the door hadn’t forced him to be chivalrous and open it for her instead. They hailed a taxi when they got onto the curb. They climbed inside, gave the directions to the driver, and took off to practice.



********



“I swear, if he doesn’t get here soon, I’m going to kill him,” Peter said, pacing around the rehearsal space, which was basically a big loft inside a warehouse that Mike’s friend rented to them.

“Chill out, man,” Steve said, fixing his hair in the mirror on the wall.

“Yeah, he’ll be here soon,” Phil said as he hit a few of his cymbals from behind his drum kit. All the while, Kelsi was sitting on the worn-out couch that faced the band and was sketching them. Mike noticed this and walked over to her. He sat down on the couch and peered over her shoulder to her drawings.

“Wow, those are nice, really nice,” he said.

“Thanks,” she blushed.

“What’s nice?” Steve asked, turning away from the mirror.

“Her drawings; she’s really got talent.” Steve walked over to the couch, stood at the back, and peered down at the book between Kelsi and Mike.

“Oh wow, they are,” he said and brought his arm forward, pointing at a spot on the page. “Hey, that’s me!” he said smiling.

“That’s not you, it’s Phil!” Mike said. “This one’s got more of a beard.”

“But this one’s got glasses!” Phil got up from the kit and walked over, as if to settle this argument. He peered over Kelsi’s other shoulder and looked down at the book.

“This one’s me,” he said, tapping at a different spot on the page. “See? Beardy, with no glasses. You are all blind I swear.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Steve said, standing up straight again. “This one’s too good looking to be you anyway.” The whole group erupted in a chorus of “oohs”, except for Phil.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he said, inching his way over to Steve.

“No I’m not…” he said, inching backwards. They continued this pattern of yes and no until Steve was a foot away from the door. Then, without warning, Phil tackled Steve, sending him flying backwards.



III



Tony and I just happened to be walking into the room as Steve came flying at us. And, as luck would have it, he knocked me over backwards onto the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he said and got up off me. He held out a hand to me and helped me up. I brushed myself off and Tony took me close.

“What the hell were you guys doing?” Tony asked, feigning laughter. I recognized this, but decided to not say anything as I would have probably found it funny, too.

“They got into a little row about one of Kelsi’s drawings,” Mike said, facing backwards on the couch so he could see Tony and me.

“Who’s Kelsi?” Tony asked. Suddenly, it all came into place for me. I knew why the description of Peter’s lady friend sounded familiar.

“I’m Kelsi,” she said and turned around on the couch. When her gaze met mine, her mouth dropped open. “Layla?” she asked in disbelief. I smiled and nodded my head. She leapt up off the couch and ran in my general direction. She enveloped me in a giant hug, while Tony and Peter exchanged confused glances.

“You two know one another?” Peter asked, moving closer.

“Yeah!” I exclaimed. “We went to school together. It’s been years since we’ve talked; I can’t believe we’re seeing each other right now!” Tony and Peter looked to each other again, and shrugged.

“That’s so weird,” Steve said. I looked over at him and saw that a piece of the floor had splintered off into his hair when he hit the ground. I reached up and removed it from his hair. He looked absolutely perplexed, but was interrupted by Peter.

“Well,” he said, folding his arms, “Now that the boy wonder and his practice-inhibiting girlfriend are here, can we get down to business?” I looked at him funny, but he grinned slyly, showing that he was only joking. I threw the splinter at his head as everyone walked back over to the practice portion of the room. Kelsi and I flopped down on the couch as the boys picked up their instruments. They began to tune up, and Kelsi and I turned to look at one another. After a few seconds of silence, we grinned, and began flapping our hands in front of our face, making a sort of “eeeee” noise. They boys stopped tuning, and looked at us in an odd way. Kelsi and I burst out laughing, and they all shook their heads.

“This,” Kelsi said to me, whispering, “Is like a dream come true.” I could only smile and nod in approval.