WARNINGS: sad themes, mention of depression, song fic, au where they’re not superheroes.
SUMMARY: you were feeling down in the dumps, so your best friend, peter parker, takes you out to a coffee shop where they’re holding an event.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: here’s to the first fic i’ve ever published but not the first i’ve written. i may make this into a series, i have a part two in the works 🙂 the song is “another one of those days” by cavetown
“Thanks for taking me out, Peter,” you said, sipping from the warm mug of Joe you hand in your hands.
“No problem. Always there for a friend!” He gave you one of his big, puppy smiles. You had been feeling down in the dumps lately, so you called Peter Parker. He was always telling you how he hated when you isolated yourself and how bad it was for you, and that you should talk to someone when you weren’t having a good day. “A good friend will always call or text you back and you can talk to them,” he always told you, and today you took his advice. So, here you were, at an open mic night at a little coffee shop that Peter was looking forward too and was glad to bring a friend.
Sitting on a couch near the one of the side walls, you and Peter had a clear view of the area cleared for the performances. So far tonight, you had seen a five minute skit about a struggling horror author who sold his soul so the book could write itself, around seven poets who each deserved awards for writing such beautiful things, a kid with a ukulele singing a song he wrote, and someone who did a stand-up act and was very funny. You clapped (or snapped as it deemed appropriate) to everyone, good or bad, everyone was great in their own way.
Just as the guy who did the stand up comedy act was saying goodbye and everyone was clapping as he walked off, your eyes caught on a man who was standing up.
He had light brown hair that looked almost red, with some facial hair over his oval shaped face. He was tall, wide shouldered, muscular but not ripped, wearing a grey graphic long sleeves shirt and a pair of ripped black jeans with a pair of boots. He was a very handsome man, and he was holding an acoustic guitar. Walking up to the stage, your eyes followed him as he sat down on the stool that some of the previous performers had sat on and adjusted the microphone to accommodate his height.
“Good evening,” he said with a smile. Peter nudged you with the back of his hand, so you leaned closer to him.
“That guy looks familiar to me,” he said in a whisper to you. “I think I’ve seen him back when I worked with Mr. Stark.”
“Or maybe he’s been to other shows?” You asked, still not taking your eyes off of the man behind the microphone. He continued talking.
“My name’s Peter Quill, and, uh, I’m going to be doin’ a cover of one of my favourite songs that kind of has a big impact on my life right now. It’s called ‘Another One Of Those Days’ and I hope you guys like it.” There was some claps and Peter brought his hand down on the strings with no chords before adjusting himself and starting the song. There was a small instrumental introduction before he started singing.
“Cycling down town,
Thought the fresh air would pick me up.
Up, up, and away from the ground,
But there’s no talking dog up here.”
The moment he started singing, you were hooked. His deep voice resonated through the cafe, filled with a certain sadness. It wasn’t just ordinary sadness, it was loss. He was grief stricken by something, and he turned it into a beautiful cover of a beautiful song. The room was dead silent, save for the music he produced.
“I saw a girl in my dreams but I don’t remember her name.
I guess it’s just another one of those days,
When I’m missing everything.
Carousel round and round,
Like a kid’s toy you wind me up.
And I’ve got nothing to say,
So you just throw me in the dump truck.
Hoping ‘round the corner I’ll see her.”
His moss green eyes looked far away when they were open, sometimes making eye contact with the crowd, sometimes looking at his guitar. His boot tapped softly on the ground with the tempo of the mellow song.
“Passed that kid from chemistry who made fun of my name.
He didn’t look very happy,
I guess we all turn out the same.
I saw a girl in my dreams, she kissed me on the face.
I guess it’s just another one of those days,
When I’m missing everything.
When she shows up she can sit on my shoulders,
‘Cause I’m so strong, I wish.”
He smiled as he sang and looked up and coincidentally, looked right at you and he was here and not far off in his memories. You gave him a small smile back, and he looked at you a little longer than he did anyone else before returning to his guitar.
“But for now I’ll just be lonely,
And my arms will feel so bare.
Dreaming ‘bout her body ‘round me,
With my fingers in her hair.
It might be so easy, but I am just too scared,
‘Cause I saw a girl in my dreams, but she doesn’t like me.
I saw a girl in my dreams…”
He strummed once more, holding out the last note before ending with an exhale. The previously silent room clapped for him, a couple girls cheering. You clapped as well, snapping out of the trance his voice put you in. Peter clapped next to you, telling you he thought it was good, though he didn’t know the original song. You did however and decided after the show you were going to tell the other Peter you liked the song.
*
It was getting late, and the coffee shop was closing and the show was ending.
“You gonna go talk to him, (Y/N)?” Peter asked. “I think he’s packin’ up.” He pointed to the back of the shop where he was indeed putting his guitar in it’s case.
“Yeah,” you said, standing up. “I’ll be right back.” You walked over to him and he looked over to you when you got close.
“Hey,” he said to you, raising a hand in a wave.
“Hey,” you replied and put your hands in your pockets. “I really liked your song.”
“Heh, thank you. It’s not much really, but it’s something I like doin’.”
“You’re welcome. My name’s (Y/N).” You extended your hand.
“Peter Quill. Would you like to get a bite to eat or coffee sometime? I don’t usually do that, but you are very pretty and seem very nice.” He gave you a smile while returning your handshake, his eyes soft and questioning.
“Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe you can tell me about some of the music you like.” You smiled back, unable to contain it and brushing some hair behind your ear.
“Here, let me give you my number and we can set a date and time.” He walked over to the counter and pulled a pen out of one of his pockets and wrote his number on a napkin before walking back over and handing it to you. You took it from him with a “thank you.”
“I gotta get back to my friend, he’s kind of my ride. I’ll see you around, Peter Quill.”
He chuckled and said his goodbyes as well, you making you way back to Peter Parker. You looked at the napkin he’d given you. It had his number and a note on it.
Toad's Cave 