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Mickey never thought they would be those people who go to bars to watch local bands play. Yet, here they are.
The room is barely lit, the only source of light coming from the actual bar area and the multi colored lights near the make shift stage.
The air is thick with the smell of beer and cigarette smoke. Mickey can almost feel it burrowing into his clothes, making them feel heavier somehow.
Ian has wondered off to the bar leaving Mickey at a table close to the stage where the band is setting up. They're a little early, the after work crowd slowly shifting to the late evening crowd.
Every month the bar a couple blocks from their place features a spot for local bands to perform and endlessly hope someone important enough is in the crowd waiting to sign someone a record deal. It's happened before and it's what every aspiring musician who takes the stage waits for. Mickey makes jokes to Ian about the hope glittering in their eyes but he's actually impressed by their determination.
Earlier that night they had been seated next to each other on the couch, flipping through channels when Ian remembered it was the first Saturday of the month and asked if Mickey wanted to go check out the bar. He grabbed his coat and they made their way to the closest thing they had to a regular, their arms brushing the whole way.
Mickey watches as Ian makes his way to the table, sitting down and taking a drink of his soda. Mickey grabbed his own and popped a piece of ice in his mouth, laughing when who he assumes to be the lead singer almost trips over the microphone cord.
He hates to admit it but he and Ian had adopted a somewhat calm lifestyle since leaving the South Side, demonstrated by the fact that they're drinking sodas in a bar at the age of 23 because they're the cheapest thing. The move to New York was still hurting their bank accounts.
Mickey doesn't really know when this tradition started, when they had decided to make it a thing. He supposes it's good to get them out of the house, maybe meet some friends.
They moved in quite a while ago and so far the only friend they had acquired was the woman in her late 20s down the hall from them after she caught them kissing each other rather aggressively in the hall outside their apartment door and thought they were fighting. After that incident they had tried their hardest to avoid each other until one day she stopped Ian in the stairwell and said it doesn't have to be awkward.
It wasn't really a friendship, per se, but more like she gives them left overs from her dinner parties and Ian and Mickey keep the noise down, sometimes inviting her to their movie nights. It was weird at first but now it's a regular thing and they're glad to know they can trust someone.
Not that they need friends, but things get lonely sometimes and they have to put themselves out there eventually.
Also, the music is pretty good most of the time. New York is full of talent and although these fresh faced kids look a little too ready for their dreams to thrive, they would deserve it.
About half an hour of chatting aimlessly and watching the ice melt in their glasses, the place is starting to fill. The buzz of voices surround them and every now and then a guitar is heard playing or the sound of the sticks hitting a drum.
Ian has his hand resting on the table as he stirs the almost non existent ice in his cup and Mickey wants to hold it but he still can't get a feel for the people who frequent this place on these nights. He's out and proud and doesn't take anyone's homophobic bullshit anymore, but he's still a little iffy on the idea of PDA.
The microphone lets out a squeak and Mickey's attention is shifted to stage, watching the fluffy haired singer position the mic.
The guy does the whole 'so glad to be here' spiel and then he's counting off and they're playing the first song.
Mickey watches Ian nod along to the beat and he can't help but fall in love a little more. This living together thing is fairly new to them but Mickey finds himself watching his boyfriend doing every day things and feels himself slip a little deeper. It's like a freight train the way those thoughts hit him sometimes. When Ian's folding laundry or brushing his teeth Mickey can't help but to think about how much he loves this guy. Like right now, as he watches Ian lose himself to the music.
Mickey loves coming on these nights because he gets to see Ian under the influence of the happiness radiating from the crowd and he looks beautiful.
Mickey would go to a million concerts if it meant he could see Ian so natural every time.