Chapter 2: Here there be dragons

Matt and Nick met in a very boring way, but some might believe it fateful. Both of them frequented a metal forum, and in their agreeing discussions about the state of today's music, they became friends and decided that text is not the best medium for communication. Nick already had a Skype account, so it was up to Matt to fill in the blanks. Soon after they were chatting up with every chance they saw, and Elaine happened upon one of these conversations.

For everyone involved it seemed an ordinary day, Elaine made another visit to the cafe without the purpose of using a computer, instead being there to chat with Nick. She came across the scene of him wearing a pair of large headphones with a microphone attached, hearing only one side of a conversation. As with all of these undisturbable moments, she quietly pulled up a chair to his side and waited patiently. "No, I'm telling you it's not right." "Really?" "They can't go splitting up just like that." "We'll just see how it goes then.", Nick ranted on about a subject only he and his partner knew, his child friend casually scanning the room while paying attention only to signs of an end. "Nick! Come help your mother!", could be heard shouted out back, and even tough Nicholas's headphones looked to have deprived him of all outside stimuli, he quickly got up, planted the headphones on Elaine, "Hold down the fort, will ya?" being his last words before leaving.

"Uhm... Hello?", said the girl, almost inaudibly "Hey there, I'm Matt. You?" quickly sounded through the headset.

"E-Elaine."

M: "A friend of Nick's? He doesn't leave command to just about anyone."

'Leaving command' was a bit flattering, as all he did was leave her alone at the server, but Nick would always call someone to keep watch for any new clients if he was called.

E: "Yeah, we've been friends for a while. What were you talking about?"

M: "A band we like is having some issues. They might even split up."

E: "Which one?"

M: "Nightwish. Probably don't know 'em."

E: "Hey, I listen to Nightwish."

M: "You're just saying that. You don't have to pretend for me."

E: "I'm pretty sure Nightwish is the main reason me and Nick are friends."

M: "Okay, fine. So what's your favorite song?"

E: "Kind of hard to say. Mostly I just put them all on and play at random..."

A tingle of disbelief slowly formed in Matt's mind...

E: "... but if I have to name a favorite I'd go for Nemo."

...but it soon passed away.

M: "Hmmph... You don't really sound the type, but okay..."

E: "So what's happening to them?"

M: "I hear that Tarja might leave the band."

E: "WHAT?!"

All heads inside the cafe turned towards the girl, and she was pretty sure that the neighbors heard her too. She found herself shrinking inside her chair.

M: "Ow... Please, don't scream into the microphone."

E: "Sorry." came out almost inaudibly just as the patrons returned to their respective screens.

M: "But, I feel for you. It's not gonna be the same."

E: "Got that right."

Five minutes of discovering their common tastes later, the two were once again joined by their friend.

N: "I'm guessing you found out."

E: "Sorry."

A loud laughter erupted at the other end of the line, doing little to help Elaine's pride.

E: "Think you could put him on speakers?"

N: "No." was said almost deadpan, while gazing at the half-full room before them."

M: "We could talk more when you get home?"

E: "You'd actually want that?"

A softer laughter could be heard this time, which helped just as much.

The girl also had no confidence in herself. She knew she was alone, and believed that it would never change. To her, Nick was a miracle.

M: "Yes. I'd want that."

Installing Skype was the first thing she did as Elaine got home, adding both Nick and Matt, it started as a conference call, but the conversation lasted long after their common friend left. Rock music wasn't the only subject they discussed, with picture sharing, song show-offs and chatting about every small subject that came to mind. But when all that ran out, it was when Elaine found about Amanda.

How Matt had encountered her came off as even more fateful.

His sister worked abroad, serving as a hostess in a high class club in England, and Amanda's manager was a frequent client. Professional service soon gave away to true feelings and the two got married. Their wedding ceremony was the very place of birth for this new friendship. At first, Matt knew nothing of her and her friends, and if he would have known, their meeting would still come as awkward.

It was a quiet night, marked only by the bass coming from the party. Matt was outside, enjoying a smoke, when out of the blue this woman comes out, hand stretched forward.

"Think I can have a cigarette?", she asks.

"Yeah... sure.", was answered, as he reached for his back pocket.

He pulled out one Marlboro cigarette, followed by his lighter and offered it to her. As he brought up the lighter, his intention being to light it for her, she gingerly plucked it out of her hand. The gesture seemed to be done in the most careful manner, but Matt felt as if it was pulled with the greatest force.

The woman was tall, even for one of her gender, not enough to qualify as towering, but her shoulders still stood above his head. Her body was toned and almost pure white, her skin seeming both soft and tough as leather. Her face bore a slight oval shape, on which rested two almond eyes of a brown that almost seemed black.

The boy felt something while being in her presence, as her every gesture was filled with confidence, her posture rigid, her stance unyielding. She emanated strength and the boy felt intimidated.

"Thanks.", she said, handing back his lighter.

"You're welcome.", followed, with a slight tremor in his voice.

M: "If you don't mind me saying, you don't look the kind to need to ask for a cigarette."

W: "Couldn't be bothered to find a store."

She spoke in a truly deadpan tone, giving no emotion to any of her words.

M: "You don't have assistants?", he said, regretting the words as they left.

W: "No. I don't."

She took a puff, and Matt followed almost immediately, with this gesture not escaping her notice.

W: "You wanted to light my cigarette."

M: "Uhm... yeah? Isn't that polite?"

W: "Don't do that. Makes it look like that person's your b***h."

M: "Sorry."

W: "Uh-huh."

A slight pause followed, as both looked out into the quiet streets.

M: "I'm Matt, by the way."

W: "Uh-huh."

And another pause.

W: "You want an autograph or something, Matt?"

M: "Why would I want an autograph?", he said, forgetting for a second how small he felt.

Her eyes lit up, if only slightly, and her tone of voice grew just a bit softer.

W: "You don't know who I am?"

M: "Uhm... no.

The light in her eyes grew brighter, even if it still resembled darkness, you'd need a machine to measure the difference.

W: "Huh."

A long drag punctuated her one word, the next being spoken with smoke replacing air.

W: "I don't usually have to do this, but I guess it still happens."

The gesture repeated itself, followed by a discarded cigarette.

W: "I'm Amanda. We might see each other again, kiddo."

And with that, she took her leave, heading back inside while still exhaling fumes. Matt stood outside for another full minute, feeling it wrong to go in with her. He sat quietly at his table, giving no mention of the incident, but he did nothing but stare at her for the rest of the night. Her table was right next to his, and four other women with no chance of making a matched set stood beside her. He noticed that more people went to her and her alone than anyone else that night, most leaving with autographed napkins. Only once did she look in his direction, without any knowledge of his presence there. Upon this, he clumsily avoided his gaze, unable to see her crack a hint of a smile, but only a hint.