Page 2 of Semblance

I had to hand it to my study buddy; Justin knew how to word things in a way that didn’t make me look as pathetic as I actually was.

I gave in and nodded.

It turned out to be the most delicious burger in the world and I devoured it in a matter of minutes. I must have looked like a Neanderthal to Justin, but Icouldn’t have cared less at that point. I was lost in the finger-licking land of greasy beef and salty fries.

It was only after I had finished eating that I felt ashamed of accepting the meal. I hoped the look of guilt on my face wasn’t too noticeable.

“You have ketchup on your nose,” Justin laughed.

Damn it—guilt and ketchup. What an embarrassing combination.

The second I had some spare change I was going to return the favor and buy him a burger. I didn’t want him to get any wrong ideas from me.

Justin was cute in a hipster sort of way—tall and lanky, baby-faced with sun-kissed hair and a fashion guru—but he wasn’t my cup of tea. I didn’t even like tea.

I always fell for guys that were more hard vodka than earl grey.

I suspected Justin had a thing for me but I ignored it, hoping that he would eventually direct his smitten eyes in another direction.

Justin’s friendship was valuable to me, but that’s all I saw it being—a friendship. Being broke didn’t allow me the luxury of going out and meeting new people and so he became the centre of my social universe. I couldn’t lose the current relationship I had with Justin.

Not now, and probably not ever.

I stared at the water-stained ceiling of my cramped studio apartment, sleepy from the grease oozing through my bloodstream. I longed to pass out for the rest of the evening but sleep had to wait. I had too much work to do.

I needed to figure out a way to survive another semester.

I logged onto my computer and checked my email, hoping that today my inbox provided me with some sort of salvation.

There were two types of emails that I usually received. The first was daily group coupon deals, which I checked religiously, hoping for some miraculous discovery that kept me fed for another week. There was one this one time that I discovered a deal for four microwavable pizzas for four dollars at the local grocery store and I practically came at the thought of having a steady supply of food for a week. Before stumbling across the holy grail of pizza deals, I had honestly considered crafting myself a makeshift bow and arrows and entering into the wilderness to hunt for some dinner.

The second type of email I got was rejection letters. Each week I sent emails to fifteen local entertainment establishments that housed pianos, inquiring about potential gigs along with a link to my webpage with samples of my music. And every week I received either some form of rejection or no response. It was hard to decide which was worse.

I desperately needed someone to cut me a break.

However on this magical night in March while scanning through my emails, I discovered that the China White club had emailed me saying they had an opening for a pianist this Saturday night.

I read the email over and over again in a state of euphoria.

“Dear Ms. Aria Valencia,

The China White Supper Club is interested in having you perform for us this Saturday on the Thirteenth of March. Please arrive promptly at 5:00 pm so we can discuss the set list as well as fit you into wardrobe. We are looking forward to your performance as you’ve come highly recommended.

Management.”

For a moment I feared it was a joke. The China White was one of the more exclusive supper clubs in the city, one that only the elite dined at: movie stars, fortune five hundred business moguls, and people of social influence. If the wealthy needed to stuff their faces with succulent Chinese meals, they went to the China White.

It was unexpected and astonishing for them to contact me, especially since I never sent an email to them in the first place, but I was so giddy from the prospect of working the crowd at the China White—and getting paid for it—that I didn’t bother thinking about the logistics of it.

I replied within two minutes.

“Dear Management @ the China White,

I would be delighted to play for your fine establishment this Saturday. You will not be disappointed.

Aria Valencia.”

My destiny was waiting for me, whether I was ready or not.

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