Now I don't have anymore songs to sing'Cause you were everything, everything to meI didn't realize I felt this way, until that day.

- Hanson, "Lucy"

He wasn't a rock star by any means. All four of the members of the local band he played for agreed that music was something fun, but the money making side wasn't for them. They practiced a few hours a week and when they did land a weekend gig it was mostly as a filler opening act for other bands that came through the city, and the set lists were improvised more often than not.

She had approached him at a show a few years back. Her words told him she just wanted a copy of their low-budget, fan-demanded CD, but her eyes and the pretty shade of pink that flushed her freckled cheeks told him she'd had to work up the courage to talk to him. She traded her money for the CD, but didn't walk away from the table. She fumbled with her fingers, seemingly trying to conjure up the magical words that would end the conversation in the result she desired.

"You know, I'm not some big time musician, and we're never going to be. We just do this on the weekends. The only reason that CD is available is because we have a good following in the area and our fans wanted some of our stuff on recording. So, don't be nervous."

She smiled at being discovered, and her shoulders relaxed. "I just thought you were really good on stage. When you sing, it's sort of … well, comforting, I guess. You just have one of those voices; like Ryan Adams or Joseph Arthur. I think the same thing when I listen to them. I don't know what I really expected in coming over here, but I just wanted to say that."

She turned to go, clutching the CD to her chest. He watched her shake her head in embarrassment, as though she thought she'd said too much. He couldn't continue watching her walk away. He called for his bandmates to watch their table and went after her. The surprise displayed on her features went from negative to positive as he grabbed her arm from behind so she had to turn and look at him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he assured her. "I was just wondering … what's your name?"

Her smile showed itself again and she held out a hand as she introduced herself. An electric spark shot through him when he placed his hand in hers, telling his name in return. Her ticket was for the main act and that band was about to start, so he quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and asked for her number. Although she seemed skeptical that he would actually use it, she gave him the information he requested before returning to her friends in the crowd in front of the stage. Proving that he had been sincere, he called her the very next day to set up a dinner date. It had been a few years since he had a girlfriend and he suddenly found himself really excited about this girl. As they sat in the quaint diner and shared their lives over the few hours of their first date, he fell for her. She was everything that he always thought didn't exist in a girl. While they didn't exactly come from similar backgrounds, their likes and dislikes were mostly similar. He didn't even wait until they were back in his car to kiss her for the first time, just pulled her close right outside the diner window and pressed his lips to hers.

At the beginning, she tried to play it cool, much like she had done when she approached him at the show where they'd met. He could tell just by looking in her eyes, however, exactly how she felt for him. After a few months, when he finally saw the feelings he'd developed so quickly reflected in the brown eyes looking up at him, he let the words fall from his mouth. When she returned them, he could have dropped to a knee and asked for her hand then and there, he was so happy. She'd seemingly come out of nowhere, and fell right into place in his life.

After that, their life became pleasantly routine. They saw each other a few nights a week, and there was a goodnight phone call every night before bed. On the weekends when neither of them worked or had school, they were attached at the hip. Except for perhaps the confession of their love for each other, they didn't rush anything; just let their relationship develop as it would. It seemed to work for the both of them.

At some point over the next few years, something changed. Or, he thought something changed. Maybe she wasn't as open about how she felt. Maybe he had been too quick in thinking he fell for her. At a time in the relationship when most couples move towards making a more permanent step, he began to think of taking a more final step as doubt after doubt flew through his mind. Every night as they ate at the table in the home they shared, he searched for the answers to how she felt in her eyes, but the emotions weren't there anymore. The girl he'd fallen for was not the woman who looked back at him.

It happened slowly, and then suddenly. First she stopped coming to band rehearsals, an activity she had gone out of her way not to miss before. Then she started missing shows. Once she stopped going to shows altogether, he started not coming home every night - without explanation. He was never unfaithful; usually just drank too much and passed out at a friend's house.

Then one morning he came home and she was gone. It wasn't just that she was gone though - she was gone. Her clothes, her toiletries, her pictures … every piece of the house that belonged to her, save furniture, was gone. It was as though she'd never lived there. If it weren't for the slight indention on her side of the mattress, he would have thought he imagined the whole relationship.

He couldn't blame her for leaving. What was there to stay for anyway? A boyfriend who had been devoted to her at one point but now came around only when he felt like it. There was no affection to speak of; that had left their relationships months ago. It was at that moment that he realized perhaps she had been the first to leave, but he'd already been gone for a long time.

His friends encouraged him to find another girl to distract him from his heartbreak, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was coping with the fact that perhaps he'd loved her too much and he panicked. His heart was overwhelmed with feeling when it came to her, so he just shut down. She hadn't been the one to change; he had.

The songwriting stopped for almost a year and along with it, his desire to perform. An activity that used to bring him a therapeutic sense of relief now seemed pointless without her.

He woke up one afternoon from a nap to find two missed calls and a voicemail on his mobile phone. He recognized the number, so he dialed up the voicemail service.

"It's me," her sad voice told him. "I don't want to bother you … I'm sure you've moved on. It's been so long and I'm sorry for calling now. I just wanted to hear your voice.. I'm okay, really; you don't have to call back or anything. It was just a silly inclination."

The message ended, but he played it over again another seven times before saving it and disconnecting from voicemail. He would do as she said and not call back, but he couldn't get her words out of his head. He raced for his guitar and a pen and paper; suddenly his muse had returned to him. His next few days weren't filled with much other than perfecting that song.

When he went to his bandmates and told them he was ready to perform again, as long as that song was on the set list, they readily agreed. They had all missed performing, but without him it wouldn't have been the same. The word was immediately sent out to the venues they had performed at before and to the acts they had opened for in the past. They rehearsed old material and new material over and over until they had it down pat. Finally, the day of their return performance came. He didn't know for sure that she was there; he could only hope.

Being back on the stage was exhilarating. It was that feeling he got from hearing her voice ten times over. The energy of the crowd was off the charts, and he couldn't believe it. They'd all waited this long to hear the band play again and the loyalty was overwhelming.

He took a deep breath as one of his bandmates introduced the new song, and then suddenly it was starting. His eyes stopped searching the crowd, and he imagined that she was there in the front row, smiling at him while he sang. The look in the imaginary girl's eyes told him that she knew exactly what the words in the song meant - that he'd realized too late how much he loved her and that it had been such a mistake letting her go. He closed his eyes, really getting into the song, and when he opened them, she was still there in the front row. He blinked a couple of more times before realizing it wasn't just his imagination bringing her to the front row; she was actually there.

After the set was over, he manned the merchandise table as he always did. He didn't want to look for her, but he couldn't help himself. It was where they had met, and his heart couldn't help but hope a reconciliation would begin in the same place. Finally he saw her moving towards him, and she appeared to be trying just as hard as he was to hide a smile. Once at the table, she stumbled around for words. He thought back to that first meeting, and fell in love with her all over again.

"I'm still not a big time musician, you know. You don't have to be nervous."

She smirked and nodded. "I just wanted you to know I think you did a really good job. I guess you have my number now so, you know, if that song ends up on a CD, maybe you can let me know."

He nodded and just watched her. How had he stopped seeing how beautiful she was? All he seemed to be able to do now was stare, unaware how uncomfortable his lack of words was making her.

"Anyway," she finally said. "It was good to see you. Really good."

That familiar look of panic overtook her features and she disappeared back into the crowd. No, he thought to himself. I'm not letting her go again.

He called to one of the other members of the band to watch the table and hurried after her. He found her just outside of the venue and reached for her arm. She spun around, holding a hand to her chest.

"You scared me."

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "The night you called, I should have called back. I wanted to call back."

She shook her head. "Like I said, it was silly. I had just come home from my first date since I moved out and all I could think about was how he was nothing like you. Maybe that should have been a good thing, but it wasn't. If you don't want me to call again, all you have to do is say so."

"I actually just have one request."

She looked at him expectantly and with some concern.

"Have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"I'd love to," she answered without hesitation.

He grinned and swept her up into his arms. She returned his embrace and readily accepted his kiss. Whatever had caused the distance between them before was gone, and they both knew they would do whatever they had to do to make sure it didn't return.

A/N: Just a cute little one shot I'd slowly been working on between everything else the last couple of months. Hope you enjoyed it. :)