I was certain that she was the only good-looking girl at the pub – even without my beer goggles. The other girls were either overly Mexican with short, straight-across bangs, bright red hair, or obese with cholo boyfriends. Sure is nice to be back in San Diego, I thought to myself. San Diego was my hometown, so of course I loved it, but the over-bearing Mexican population was getting a bit old. I had toured the world – seen all kinds of different cultures and styles. It was a bit of a downgrade to be back in mostly-Mexican San Diego.

I couldn’t tell is she was Mexican, though. Her skin was dark, but more olive than brown. Her hair was long, with no layers, and a very vibrant chocolate color. I could tell that her hair was all natural. After seeing millions of fans all with an assortment of colors in their hair I could tell the difference between dyed hair and natural hair. Hers was definitely natural, I could tell by the health in her curls and the shine that remained consistent from root to tip. If I had to guess, I would say that she was Greek – her olive complexion and curly hair was what really gave it away.

The fact that I had never seen her before only made me more interested in her. It had been a while since I had to be the one to approach a girl, though. Most of the girls I ever talked to were fans, family, crew members, or girlfriends and wives of friends. I didn’t have any of my own female friends, and I never had time to try and talk to girls because I would always be leaving the venue the next morning or later that night. The last time I tried talking to a girl had to have been years ago, and all she cared about was the fact that I was in a band. I was sick of being the singer of Pierce the Veil all of the time. I wanted to just be Vic, too.

Her sea-green eyes met my Mexican-brown eyes and I shared a humble smile with her. She blushed and looked down, unsure of how to react to. I needed to talk to her. But I didn’t want to just walk up to her after that; it would be far too creepy.

She pulled out a phone from her purse, checked the screen, and then placed it to her ear. “Excuse me,” she mouthed to her friends before heading toward the back door that was under the stairs. Before she could leave the building, she locked her eyes with mine again, jerked her head toward the outside and slipped into the night.

With only a brief second of hesitation I set my beer down and excused myself from my friends. I walked to the back of the pub, twisted the doorknob and followed my Greek Goddess into the alley.

She was sitting on top of a dumpster when I finally found her. Her jeans were fitted down to her ankles, and her white top was flowing in the light breeze. It was difficult to see in the light, but I noticed a large, golden stud on the left side of her nose. It was in that moment that I knew that she was Greek.

“So a ghetto pub on a Wednesday night, huh?” she spoke. She looked down the alley and continued to swing her legs from the top of the dumpster.

“Life’s just that great,” I replied with a curious smile. Her lips had a natural tint of a wine color and the corners of her mouth subtly curved up towards her cheek bones even when she wasn’t smiling.

“Mmm,” she replied. She batted her eyelashes just for a second before she turned to face me. She looked me right in the eyes and said, “Eleftheria.” Her Greek accent extenuated the accents in her name.

“Vic,” I said simply. I felt somewhat embarrassed by the shortness and wished that I had a long, impressive name that he could apply an accent to.

“So, Vic, what are you looking to get out of tonight?”

I was impressed with her bravery. She obviously knew that most men who spent their weeknights at a cheap bar were looking to get with a woman. However, that was not my intention. It would surely be a plus, but all I had on my mind was Eleftheria’s accent and how fresh her skin and hair looked. She had this glow that emanated from her skin – like she had spent the entire day in the sun, showered, and then came here.

“As suspicious as it is for a man to be at a bar on a weeknight, I could say the same for a beautiful young woman.”

Eleftheria smiled widely and nodded her head. “Ah, yes. The presumable prowl. I can guarantee you that I am here on intentions different than your own.”

She spoke like a philosophy book. Her words were arranged in sentences that reminded me of old English grammar, like an English-language-learner rather than a native speaker of the language.

“And what makes you so sure of my intentions?” I asked with a playful grin. This casual banter felt so natural. The playfulness of the conversation continued to arouse many questions about her, and I just wanted to ask them all at once. “I’m here with my – uh…” I paused.

I didn’t know what to call my band members. Friends? Colleagues? Or should I even tell her that I was in a band? If I told her that I was in a band, surely everything would change. I didn’t want this to be about me – I wanted to hear about her.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” I asked, completely disregarding my half-finished sentence from before.

Eleftheria had a quick expression of confusion, but continued on anyway. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that. It’s usually the first thing people ask me about,” she laughed lightly to herself. “I am from Greece. I just moved here in the fall to attend San Diego State University. English is not my first language, so my accent is still pretty heavy.”

“Your accent is perfect.” My response was immediate. I couldn’t control myself. “What are you studying?”

“Psychology for now. But I still haven’t entirely decided on what I want my exact profession to be in the future. I like to study culture, but I also like to understand people. So I guess cultural psychology or something of that sort.” She took a moment to look at me. I continued to look away and pretend that I didn’t notice how she was taking in all of my features. It was funny how I could be on stage in front of God knows how many people and feel comfortable, but when one person is looking at me I like my heart is going to pound out of my chest.

“Why in San Diego, though?” I asked. It was so difficult to find her out. I knew how crazy I was for thinking that was already more interesting than any other person I had ever met, but I couldn’t help but want to know her.

Eleftheria laughed. “Good question. I wanted to be in California because I like the Universities here and I wanted something that was culturally diverse but not so over-whelming like Los Angeles.”

“Well, sorry, but there are nothing but Mexicans here,” I laughed a bit and held out my hands and then motioned to my body. “See?” I laughed some more when Eleftheria doubled over in laughter. Her hair showered over her face with movements like silk.

“What’s wrong with being Mexican?” she asked between giggles.

I loved her laugh. “We all look the same: dirty, short, and brown.”

“You’re taller than me. And you don’t look dirty,” she said. She held out her left hand and gently grabbed onto a small section of my hair. She moved it around in her hand. “Your hair is soft,” she commented. She played with it a bit longer before taking one, fierce yank on the section.

I groaned and bit my lip as I shut my eyes. The sudden action hurt, but it was more pleasurable than painful. Her boldness was exotic, and in that moment I started to believe that my own intentions for the night had changed.

When I opened his eyes Eleftheria was no longer sitting on the dumpster. She was standing in front of me. We were almost the same height – I was maybe an inch taller than her.

“It’s also strong,” she whispered while her gaze set on my lips. She slowly rolled the tip of her tongue out of her mouth to wet her lips. Before drawing it back in, she put her teeth together and gently nibbled on her tongue.

I wanted to kiss her, but she pulled her tongue back into her mouth and opened her lips to speak again. “So, Vic. Now tell me about you. What do you do for a living?”

I mentally groaned. I didn’t want to talk about himself. I didn’t want her to change her attitude toward me when she discovered my profession. This was the first girl I had been interested in a very long time – her story, her accent, her body language – everything intrigued me. I couldn’t blow his one chance at a normal night.

“I play guitar in a jazz band,” I lied. “Uh, I play on cruise ships with some other jazz players.”

I was sold out – there was no way that she could have bought that lie. I should have just up and left right in that moment.

Eleftheria’s eyes lit up in wonder. There’s no way she actually bought that. “You travel often, then?” she asked with an undeniable excitement changing her entire posture. She took a step closer to me and placed her right hand on hand.

The contact was too much to handle. Everything changed much too fast, and I could see in Eleftheria’s eyes that she felt it, too. I looked down at her slightly parted lips and watched her take a sharp inhale. Before the air could reach her lungs I pressed my lips tightly against hers. The impact of my kiss forced her back to hit the dumpster. I placed my hands on the ledge of the dumpster to keep her in my grasp. She looped her index fingers around my front two belt loops and used them to crash my hips into hers.

“Vic?” she asked, pulling away.

I didn’t respond. I started to lightly kiss and suck on her neck.

“How did you get here?” she asked.

Her question seemed a bit random, but after I thought about it, I realized what she was trying to get at. “My van is parked behind the bar,” I said with my lips still pressed to her neck.

Somehow she slipped out of my trap and pulled me by my belt loops. She let go of me once my feet had started to follow her down the alley on their own.

“Do you like traveling?” she asked without turning around. She didn’t even wait for my answer, and honestly, I didn’t even have one. My heart was racing too fast and my mind could only focus on getting to the van and how sexy her curves were when she walked.

“I have always wanted to travel. Observe different cultures, learn about different people, meet new people. Sure I lived in Greece and moved all the way here, but these are the only two places I have ever been to,” she rambled more to herself than to me. I tried my hardest to listen to everything she had to say but my body was throbbing far too loud for me to hear anything.

I dug the keys out of my pocket and unlocked the back door of the van. Eleftheria climbed in without any hesitation and I followed soon after her. I slid the door closed and made sure to lock the doors. I turned around to see Eleftheria sitting in the very backseat. As I traveled after her, I observed the small van that my crew used to travel with us on tour. I thanked God that it was clean, and I also thanked God for the tinted windows. It was night out, but I wasn’t usually the type of person to publicly display affection – especially to this extent.

I finally reached Eleftheria and before I could even sit down beside her, she had a fist full of my hair. She pulled my head down and began to kiss my neck. I let my hands travel down her back until I reached the seam of her blouse. I pulled it up and wrapped my hands around her waist – feeling any bit of fiery flesh that I could manage to reach with her clothes still on.

I suddenly began to feel guilty. Eleftheria pulled back from my neck and pulled her shirt off. Everything felt too rushed – it felt too much like a one-night-stand, and that was not what I wanted. Especially with her.

“This isn’t usually my style,” I said as she began to unbuckle her own jeans. I felt like I needed to explain myself. I didn’t want her to think that I was like every other guy in a sense that I only wanted sex.

“What isn’t?” she asked as she tried her best to shimmy out of her jeans. She was sitting on the backseat and I on the floor in front of her, standing on my knees so we were at the same level. I hadn’t even thought about how the positioning would work in the backseat of the van.

“What? You don’t usually do it in the backseat of a van?” she laughed. “That’s okay, me neither. We’ll make it work.”

“No, I mean,” I sighed, “rushing things like this.”

She laughed again. “Shh…it’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself. Sometimes, things just…feel right.”

I blinked so I could focus my eyes in the dark. She was sitting in front of me in nothing but a camisole undershirt and black, lace panties. Lace drives me nuts. I groaned before I connected our lips again. She tasted sweet – like the ocean and strawberries. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift out to sea.

Notes

This is the first fanfic I have written about Pierce the Veil. Let me know what you guys think.
The story will probably be around 20-30 chapters depending on how things go in my writing process.
I usually write pretty long chapters because I know how it is to be dying for more when reading these fanfics! ahaha.

Please subscribe and comment and rate it!
I will also be publishing this on Mibba.
Thank you for reading and I hope you stick around for the long haul.