The Object of My Affection: My Band Mate's Sister

Breaking Up is Hard to do?

O'Sullivan's seemed crowded that Tuesday evening. The smell of smoke and alcohol lingered on the mouths of its customers and on the fabric of the pub's chairs. It was the thing Brona noticed every time she walked into the pub and tonight was no different.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she hurried over to a table occupied by Siobhan and Jackie. Their table was carefully chosen as it was near the jukebox and bar, close enough to the door without being too cold and nowhere in the path of the dartboard.

"Sorry I'm late," she said as she took a seat beside Siobhan, who was rolling an unlit cigarette in between her fingers. She sat back into the fabric seat, a small but noticeable smile on her face.

Jackie scoffed, taking a puff of her ciggie. "No you're not."

"Not even a bit," Brona told her, earning a playful nudge from Siobhan before the girls started teasing her about yesterday's surprise and all Brona could do was sit back into her seat, smile and keep her dignity, although it was hard to keep a straight face when she had Siobhan Branson and Jackie Crawley her back.

Yesterday felt like a dream to Brona, the sort of dream that she didn't want to wake up from. If only next week could only hurry up and get her, she thought. She couldn't wait until she'd lay her eyes upon the handsome college student again. 

"Oh, do you play?" Matthew asked, spotting the piano placed in the cosy sitting room beside a closed door that lead to the kitchen. His fingers gently gilded over a couple of keys.

Brona approached him, standing by his side. Her blue eyes glossed over the instrument that was her mother's most prized possession. "My mother started teachin' me when I was eighteen; the year she finally saved up for one. I can't play proper, just by ear."

Matthew tilted his head in her direction as he was bent over the piano. The smile curved into his face appeared lopsided and his eyes touched hers. "Anyone can play notes, playing by ear is a greater achievement."

Brona smirked. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she told him, a playful edge to her voice.

"Eighteen," he mused, his face scrunching up as if he was doing calculations in his head. "Eighteen," he repeated. "That means you've been playing for... what age are you?"

The brunette gasped and pushed his shoulder making him retract a few steps. He looked up at her, amused. "It's impolite to ask a lady her age," she teased, closing the distance slightly be taking a few step towards him.

"How am I supposed to find out?" They were sharing the same breath as his arms loosely wrapped around her waist.

"I don't know," she replied, chuckling.

Their lips gently pressed together. It was slow and soft but Brona had to place her hand on his cheek to steady herself as her knees went weak. They reluctantly detached their lips but held the embrace. The brunette gentle traced the blond's cheek with her thumb, staring deeply into his eyes and hoping this would last awhile.

"Right," a man balancing three drinks in his hands said, putting a stop to the teasing. "Half a bitter for Jackie," he said as he distributed the drinks amongst the women, revealing an Irish accent. When he had finished, he quickly popped back over to the bar to grab his Guinness before taking a seat across from Siobhan. "So, what did I miss?"

Patrick Murphy was Siobhan's boyfriend who had left his homeland only the other day in search of better working opportunities. He was going to have to move abroad anyways so he thought he might as well seek for a job in Liverpool to be with Siobhan. Brona and Jackie thought it was terribly romantic.