Okay, this is my new Paul and Abby fic. Hope you all enjoy and please don't hesitate to review!

The flickering red light about the door of the small dirty bar claimed that it was called Joe's Spot

The flickering red light about the door of the small dirty bar claimed that it was called Joe's Spot. It was the type of place I loved, filled with interesting people who loved to tell interesting stories to interested girls with bright pink hair. I pulled open the door of the bar, trying to ignore the couple just inside who were pretty much having sex up against the wall of the hallway. I stepped past them, sending a disgusted look at Mark as he laughed out loud at the sight. He moved his eyebrows up and down at me, suggestively and I chuckled. Mark, my best friend and guitarist of our band, stepped in front of me and led the way towards the bar, ordering us all a drink. I settled on a barstool next to him, running a hand through my hair and glancing around, wondering who I could spend the night with and not be bored. These bars always had a majority of dirty old men who wanted nothing more than to stare at my breasts for three hours as I drank beer with them but for every five old men there was one young one actually worth my time and energy. All I had to do was find him.

I turned back to the bar, accepting the drink Mark was holding out to me with a smile and a nod of thanks.

"The bar guy said the owner's name is Joe, I'm going to try to find him." He told me.

"Joe, huh?" I chuckled. "Who'd have guessed?"

Mark rolled his eyes at me and motioned for the rest of the band to follow him. Alex and Dave obliged happily, their bass and guitar cases swinging by their sides. Mark's drum kit was still inside the car but we wouldn't need it for at least another hour. I turned my attention to the barman. His back was to me but he was tall, amazingly so. I had always though of myself as tall; I was considered a freak in high school because of my height, but this guy was at least a foot taller than me. I could see the definition of his muscles through the old grey t-shirt he was wearing and I leant over the bar slightly to get a better look at his bottom half. The jeans were snug but not sickeningly so. He was hot. As he turned I looked at his skin for the first time. He was Native American, with sharp features and dark eyes. He smiled at me and I pasted my flirtiest smile onto my face and smiled back.

"Hi. Can I help you with anything?" He asked. His voice was husky, and I felt my toes curl inside my Doc Martin boots at the sound of it. I loved a man with a husky voice. There was nothing in the world better than listening to a husky voice right next to your ear.

"Sure you can." I told him with a smirk. "But right now I'll have another Jack and Coke." He looked at me, a confused expression on his face, before nodding and turning to fill my drink. I watched him for a few seconds before turning my attention to the rest of the bar. Old men took up a lot of room but there was a table in the corner filled with people that looked young enough. They were laughing loudly, not paying attention to anything else in the bar except the conversation they were having. I watched wistfully for a few seconds before turning back to the bar, where my drink was sitting waiting on me. The barman had moved further down the bar, to talk to a tall, dark haired girl. She was also Native American and I frowned as I realised my chances with the barman had just dropped.

"Hey, Abby, we're on in fifteen." Mark called out to me from across the room. I nodded at him and downed my drink in two gulps before looking around the bar for the toilets. I spotted them, eventually, down a dark hallway and I rolled my eyes as I pushed open the heavy door to the Ladies. It looked like every other toilet I had seen in every other bar like this one. The cubicle doors didn't lock, the soap dispenser did not dispense soap but rather a yellowy liquid that made me turn my nose up and quickly wash my hands. There were no paper towels and the hand dryer had a handwritten sign stuck on to it saying that it was out of order. I rolled my eyes and threw my bag onto the small counter, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I shook my pink hair out, running my fingers through it and fluffing it slightly. My skin looked paler than usual in the artificial light and coupled with the bags under my eyes made me look like a walking skeleton. I sighed and pulled out my make up bag, brushing some pink blusher over my cheekbones. I lined my eyes with black kohl, smudging it until I had perfected the smoky eyes I strived for. Another coat of mascara and a single coat of dark red lip stain and I was finished with my face. The door of the bathroom opened and two women stumbled in, giggling. One was Native American, and I wondered briefly if she was the girl I had saw speaking to the barman. Her friend's skin was tan, but too light to have been fully Native. They shot me smiles when they caught my stare and I turned back to the mirror, trying to block out the conversation they were having about Paul and Sam and Jared and someone liking Paul but Paul liking someone else. It was the typical Saturday night gossip and after a dozen bars like this I had become bored with it. I pulled my red t-shirt over my head, throwing it into the bottom of my large bag. Using my quick wipes and some deodorant to make myself smell fresh again, I ignored the surprised looks on the girls' faces as they tried to look at anything other than the bare flesh on show. Not that much of it was bare, of course. The majority of my back was covered in brightly coloured flowers and swallows and my stomach was tattooed with a large koi fish. I pulled a green vest top out of my bag and shook the wrinkles out of it slightly before sliding it over my head. I covered it was a black and white checked halter top and nodded at myself in the mirror. I was ready to go. I threw my things back into the bag and threw it over my shoulder, heading for the door. I shot the two girls a smirk as I pulled the door open and stepped into the dark hallway again. There were three men blocking the end of the hallway and as I got closer to them I realised one of them was the barman. I cleared my throat loudly, smiling brightly when they turned to face me.

"You're in my way." I told them pointedly.

"Sorry." The bar man flashed me a smile; stunningly white teeth sharp against copper skin and I sighed inwardly. Such a beautiful man. I made to move pas them when I felt the whisper of a touch against my bare shoulder. I turned quickly, looking accusingly at the three of them but their arms were all by their sides. I did notice that the barman and one of his friends were smiling at me tensely while casting looks at their friend out of the corner of their eyes. The third man, his features unclear in the darkness of the hallway, was staring at me intensely with a heat that made a shiver run down my spine. I locked eyes with him, my own blue eyes faltering under the dark gaze.

"Hey, take a picture." An obnoxious voice sounded from behind me. I felt Alex's cold hand slide over my shoulder and pull me slightly towards him. "We're on now, Sweets."

"I'm coming." I assured him, following him across the bar. A brief glance back at the three men assured me that the third man was still staring at me while his two friends were staring at him. Alex jumped on stage, holding a hand towards me to help me up. I rolled my eyes and pulled myself up, ignoring his annoyed huff. I settled myself behind the microphone, sending a sultry smile to the group of men who had come to observe at the front of the stage.

"Hey there. My name's Abby and this first song we're going to sing for you is an old punk love song."

I listened for Mark's sure, steady drum beat. I closed my eyes, nodding my head and swinging my hips slightly.

"Ooh, you're so pretty; not to talk to you would be a crime; aah let me put my arms around you; just wanna use up a little of your time and I'm going… baby, baby, baby… baby, baby, baby… won't you be my girl? Ahh, you're eyes they're so pretty and the clothes you wear, they're so fine; ah won't you come around to my place; just wanna use up a little of your time and I'm going… baby, baby, baby… baby, baby, baby… baby, baby, baby… won't you be my girl?"

I ignored Alex as he came to stand beside me, playing his guitar and smiling at the table of girls that were watching him with interest. I continued to move, listening to the sound of the guitars and the beat of the drums and waiting for my cue.

"Baby, baby, baby… baby, baby, baby… baby, baby, baby… won't you be my girl?"

I smiled as the crowd cheered for us, the adrenaline rushing through my veins faster than imaginable. I curtsied slightly, winking at the crowd before launching into the next song.

The gig ended early and Mark and I sat at the bar; him counting the money Joe had given us and me nursing my sixth Jack and Coke. The barman was back and I motioned him over to me, the alcohol and adrenaline pulsing through me.

"Where's your creepy friend?" I asked him over the sound of the country song someone had put on the juke box. The barman chuckled and shook his head.

"Who, Paul? He's not creepy. Well, not usually. You just caught him off guard. I'm Jared, by the way."

"Abby." I shot him another flirty smile and he shook his head with a chuckle.

"Sorry to disappoint you but my girlfriend is sitting right over there." He motioned to the table in the corner and I shrugged.

"A girl can dream, huh?" He laughed again and I smiled at him, motioning for another drink.

"Don't you think six is enough?" Jared asked. I raised an eyebrow at him and laughed loudly.

"Well, if I did, I wouldn't be asking for another, would I?"

"She can handle her drink." Mark spoke from beside me. He handed me the neatly separated bills and smiled. "We did okay. Guy gave us 400. Of course, I think he's drunk stupid but hey, I wasn't going to argue with him."

I chuckled and watched as Mark winked at me, before turning to the red head that was sitting on his other side and launching into a conversation, pulling her attention away from a tall blonde man.

I heard a throat clear behind me and I turned in my seat to see creepy Paul, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Raising an eyebrow, I motioned for him to take a seat next to me and watched as he gracefully sat down. He was, like Jared, astoundingly tall. His hair was slightly longer, ending just below his collar and I grinned. I loved a man with longish hair.

"Hey, I'm Paul." And oh my God his voice was even rougher than Jared's. It was husky but with a rough edge. I closed my eyes briefly, listening to his voice in my head, before opening them and grinning at him.

"Abby." I introduced myself with a smile and a wicked smile.