[C] One Song Glory

The first rule for busking was to pick an area that people frequently passed by.

That was why Maddox has picked a spot close to the ice rink. It was a popular area, and people of all walks of like walked past where he had set up, with a beaten up old black guitar decorated with strips of zebra print duct tape, and a ratty old cloth case sat in front of him.

He leaned back against the wall he'd perched in front of, strumming on his guitar.

"One song glory
One song,before I go
Glory
One song to leave behind

Find one song
One last refrain
Glory
From the pretty boy front man
Who wasted opportunity

One song
He had the world at his feet
Glory
In the eyes of a young girl
A young girl

Find glory
Beyond the cheap colored lights
One song,before the sun sets
Glory - On another empty life
Time Flies - Time Dies

Glory
One blaze of glory
One blaze of glory
Glory

Find glory
In a song that rings true
Truth like a blazing fire
An eternal flame

Find one song
A song about love
Glory
From the soul of a young man
A young man"

He put his heart into singing, his voice projected over the street. He wanted people to hear.

And maybe one or two people would actually listen, think, feel. He could hope.

Ciro was finished for a day of gruelling training. No routines. Just a lot of going over jumps he struggled with and perfecting them further.

He was exhausted and was looking forward to just getting home and putting his feet up.

Then before he could jump into a taxi he heard a familiar voice. A voice he heard in an elevator only a few weeks ago.

He found a new surge of energy to follow the voice and he grinned at the man sing. As amazing sounding as he remembered; even more so presumably sober with a backing guitar.

Within a couple of meters of him, he stopped and just listened. Closing his eyes and tapping his feet. He recognised the song from the musical Rent.

As the song finished he clapped his hands, teeth sparkling as he grinned.

"Didn't think I wold meet you here! Busking!" His voice was disbelieving.

He didn't have any friends who busked.

"How much have you made so far?" He asked, curious.

"A young man, find the one song
Before the virus takes hold
Glory, like a sunset
One song to redeem this empty life

Time flies and then
No need to endure anymore
Time dies"

He was so into the song that by the end of it, he was bent over, eyes clenched shut as he really belted out the lyrics. He performed with all the feeling that he would give to a performance he would do on stage in front of an audience of hundreds, rather than on a road where no one listened.

His eyes cracked open when someone spoke, and his lips kicked up into a crooked little grin.

"Fuck all," he replied, toeing the bag that was laid out in front of him. Two lonely cent coins were sat atop the bag. That was it.

His fingers picked up a tune as if on reflex, playing a complex Spanish beat.

"How are you?" He didn't even look down at his fingers as he played, instead focusing his attention on Dick.

"That's a shame," he said.

He chucked a few loose euro's he had in this jacket into the old cloth case. It seemed the thing to do.

"I'm good! I'm pretty sure my coach wanted to kill me today, though," he complained, head tilting back as he groaned.

"My feet and thighs are going to kill tomorrow."

Maddox almost snorted when Ciro tossed a few coins onto the case. Nice. Well, that'd probably pay for a meal or two.

"Coaches always want to kill their students."

He'd spent one too many days being tortured by his own vocal coach to believe anything different. Coaches were pure evil.

"For our own good, I guess?"

He had notice notable improvement in his jumps and step sequence after a few years with the couch he was with now.

"Are you finished for the day then?" He asked. "We could get a taxi together?"

Normally he walked. It was a bit of extra bit of exercise he appreciated.

But today... Nah.

His eyes then lit up as cogs started working in his head.

"Oh! Maybe we could go for a few drinks like I mentioned the other day?!"

"If you say so."

His eyes turned down to the cloth case. "Suppose I'm done." If One Song Glory hadn't gotten him any more than shrapnel, then he doubted anything else would get him more. Today probably just wasn't his day. It happened.

"I'll have to give Willow a call if you want to go out drinking." He was broke, and Willow was his meal ticket.

If she was around.

"Sure, sure! I would love to meet her!"

He was curious what Maddox's "sugar mama" was like. Especially if she wasn't as old as he first thought; in her early thirties if he remembered right.

"I will send Nicola a text too. Although, she will probably meet up later at the bar."

As he spoke he pulled out his phone to text his friend. Using more emojis than actual words.

"I need to go home first to shower and change," he said to Maddox as he began making his way over to the taxi rank. "I assume you need to too? After busking all day."

"Sure. Willow will probably meet us back at mine anyway."

That was usually how going out after a day of busking happened.

He squatted to pick up the loose change and sit his guitar back in its case. When he stood again, he slung the strap over a shoulder.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called the woman of the hour.

When she picked up, he sang into the phone, grinning. "Let's go down to the Ozdust ballroom, we'll meet there later tonight."

"If she is meeting you at home we can have a few drinks round mine first or something? After were all ready."

Ciro loved hosting people at his when he had the chance. Unfortunately, that was never too often with the schedule he had.

He grinned has he heard Maddox sing again - loving the sound of his voice. He didn't think he could ever get enough of it. Letting the other man speak to his friend he remained silent. The only time he opened his mouth was to the taxi driver where they wanted to go.

Maddox laughed at the comment thrown his way.

"Yeah, come on up to the penthouse when you get there. e're doing pre-drinks," he spoke into the phone as he jostled about his guitar and slid into the cab.

"Nah, we'll figure it out when it comes to it. Mhmm. So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, good bye."

"Tell her to get to mine about seven," he interrupted Maddox's goodbyes, turning into his seat to face him, hoping that he hadn't put the phone down yet.

If they came at seven it would give him roughly an hour to have a decent shower, get ready and set out the drinks.

He'd already put the phone down.

"She doesn't live in the city. It'll take her almost that long to get here anyway," he explained.

He lived right on the far fringes of the city. Just one street over and she'd be living in the next town over.

Ciro nodded.

"That also goes to you as well."

He filled the rest of the journey with aimless chatter.

When they got to their apartment complex he paid for their taxi and waved at Maddox as made his way up the stairs. His feet and thighs still ached but he didn't trust getting back into the lift with Maddox. He didn't fancy testing their luck.

The next hour he spent getting ready. Out of his training clothes and into a well-fitted designer shirt and jeans. The tags on them would make most people's eyes water.

The set up was simple: A few drinks on the bar, nibbles on the balcony table, and some music streamed through his phone.

He spent the last few minutes eagerly waiting for Maddox and Willow. Flicking through his Instagram and Facebook feed as he did.

It wasn't long after that a knock came at Ciro's door, and Willow leaned her weight on one foot, waiting for someone to answer.

Ciro's eyes lit up at the knock and bounded over to the door, opening it with a grin. It dropped for a half a second then lifted again.

"You must be Willow, right?"

He didn't know what he was expecting, looks wise, but she was hot.

Grin widening, he stepped aside to let her in.

"Can I get you a drink?"

Her eyes turned up to the man before her, and her painted lips curled into a crooked little smile.

Maddox sure did know how to pick good looking friends.

And tall friends, it seemed.

"I am. Do you have whiskey?"

Her heels clicked as she stepped forwards. "Is Maddox here yet?"

"I have a have. And no, not yet."

He left the door open for when Maddox got upstairs and made his way over to the bar.

He searched through his collection of drinks before pulling out two bottles, holding them up for both of her to see.

"I've got this Glenfiddich bottle and this Johnnie Walker bottle. I don't know my whiskies very well so I can't recommend which one is better," he laughed.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she moved to take a seat.

"Johnnie Walker, please."

She slid her hand into the neck of her top, pulling her phone from her bra, and flicked through her contacts.

"Are you okay?" she sang into the phone when she made her call and pressed it to her ear.

After a moments pause, presumably when the person on the other side was answering, she smirked. "I'm waiting upstairs for you. Really, fashionably late only works when you're fashionable. I'm waiting."

He poured the whisky over ice, nose wrinkling at the strong, sharp smell. It was the first drink to screw him over and he couldn't stand it since.

As he made her drink he listened to her conversation. So, singing to each other down the phone went both ways then. He bet they didn't just do it down the phone.

This was going to be an interesting night.

"Here," he said, passing her the glass.

"Is he on his way up now then?"

"Thanks."

She took a sip of the whiskey, savouring it for a moment before swallowing. "That's good."

Her tongue swiped over her lips.

"He'll be up eventually."

"Okay," he said, and settle down next to her. One arm resting on the back of the chair.

"I'm going to throw this question out now; are you both together?"

It was a little forward, but he wanted to know. He didn't want to cause any awkwardness tonight by accidentally hitting on one of them when he shouldn't.

The little bit of flirting in the elevator the other day meant nothing. Nicola and Maddox sleeping together also meant nothing (she was a terrible home wrecker).

Her first reaction to the question was a loud snort.

The second was a bout of musical laughter that had her cheeks flushing red.

"Maddox and I do nothing but warm each other's beds occasionally."

The snort she made threw him off. The pretty laugh that followed was something he was expecting from her.

His own shoulders shook as he laughed himself. A sense of relief settled in.

"Okay, good to know. I don't want to step on anyone's toes."

He lifted his own drink from the table to take a sip.

"Especially once I had a few tequilas. Or vodka. Or whatever else I have tonight."

"It'll be hard to step on our toes," she assured.

She was likely going to be going home with someone tonight anyway. She didn't care if Ciro planned to flirt.

And then the man of the hour appeared in the doorway. He wore simple clothing, no different from his usual dress. Combat boots, loose black jeans and a snug black tshirt.

"Look who finally decided to join us."