Page 13 of Metal & Mud

"Definitely make it an order of fries then," Logan said. "And is your beer bottled or draft?"

"Your choice," the counterman said. "I'd go with a pitcher of draft if I were you, tonight's karaoke night."

"Karaoke night?" Logan asked, intrigued.

"About once or twice a month," the counterman replied. "Gives the Guard boys stuck on post something to do. You want to sing, the signup sheet's right there at the end of the counter."

Singing wasn't exactly what he wanted to do, but he could see shooting a few games of pool. While it was a bit cliche, the interplay of forces, angles, and applied mathematics was fun for him. He wasn't a hustler, but he more than held his own around the sports bars in Miami.

"Add a small pitcher, whatever's your least commercial stuff."

The counterman laughed. "Sorry man, but around here you've got Bud, Bud Light, and soda."

"Make it Bud then," Logan said. "Do I grab a table or what?"

"Yeah, we'll bring it out," the counterman assured him.

Just as the beer came to his table, the first karaoke act of the night kicked off, a girl in jeans and a tight white blouse who decided that she absolutely needed to pay homage to Carrie Underwood, caterwauling her way painfully through "Cowboy Casanova" in tones that had Logan wondering if perhaps drinking faster might help his poor eardrums tolerate the insult. The girl was pretty, Logan admitted silently. Just... not a singer.

The second act continued the country trend. A pair still in their ACUs decided that even if they couldn't drink because of being in uniform, they could at least commemorate the fact that it was "Five O'Clock Somewhere."

Just as they finished, the food came out.

"Is it always like this?" Logan asked the counterman who delivered his food.

"You mean the country music?" the counterman asked, and Logan nodded. "Yeah. Ever since the base commander put out a rule that said no music with the n-word allowed, the hip-hop and rap acts have pretty much dried up. And unfortunately, we get a lot of bro country."

Logan sighed and nodded. "Thanks."

"Oh hey... I also forgot about Sabby," the counterman said, pointing. "She's not country, that's for damn sure."

Logan looked, and immediately felt like the sound faded away. A girl was picking up the mic and climbing onto the tiny little stage, looking like every goth princess he'd ever dreamed of. She wasn't tiny, but still slightly petite, with skin the color of fresh cream and hair that looked like it was straight from an anime, half shocking purple and half moonlight silver, sloping slightly from front to back with an undercut on one side.

She was wearing a black corset top that emphasized her figure, pushing her breasts up from delightful handfuls to mouth-watering apple-sized treats, a black denim skirt that hugged her curvy hips, and shredded stockings that drew his attention to the calf-high studded black goth boots that were tied with purple ribbons.

She was a goth rock goddess, and under the table Logan could feel a stirring he hadn't felt since his college days. He'd been too busy during basic training, and hadn't seen anyone that really caught his attention like this girl since leaving basic. But for her, the world just sort of disappeared into a lightly fuzzy background, and he knew that he had to meet this girl who smiled like a sweet, sweet succubus before she raised the microphone to her blood-red lips.

"Hey everyone," she said, and Logan could hear in her voice that she wasn't a Virginia native. He couldn't place the accent, but it certainly wasn't Southern in any way. "Thought I'd change it up tonight, this isn't in my normal rotation, but I hope you enjoy it still."

The girl reached over and hit the spacebar on the computer that was controlling the karaoke system, and lifted her microphone. "Mommy don't know Daddy's getting hot, at the body shop, doing something unholy!"

Logan was for half a second disappointed, about to dismiss her as just another pop music wannabe when he stopped as what came over the speakers was the wailing peal of an electric guitar.

"I know that," Logan said, grinning as he was drawn in. Machine-gun-like drums followed, and Logan nodded along, already entranced.

"That's... music."

* * *

8

SABBY

Saturdays were always Sabby's favorite day at the bowling alley, for a couple of reasons. First off, the alley was normally pleasantly busy for her entire shift. On weekends, the alley was opened up to civilians, and there were usually always at least half the lanes being used. She had a chance to talk to more people, she had actual co-workers to share shifts with, and best of all, stuff happened so that she didn't spend half of her shift bored out of her mind.

Despite what she'd told Brian Manheim, there were more than a few shifts where Sabby had little more to do than watch the second hand move on the clock and resist the urge to shoot a rack on the pool table for free.

But Karaoke night was her time to shine. She'd always loved singing, ever since she was a kid.

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