Page 11 of Baby, It's You
I step up and stand on the sticky platform and walk to the mic. I’m assuming this is where they do the karaoke if we ever make it to that point. I take a breath and lean in towards the microphone. It makes a sudden, horrible screeching sound that causes half of the crowd to cover their ears.
Clearing my throat I say, “Uh, sorry about that, folks. I, uh, my talent is…” I search for Wes and Eddie in the crowd and see them nod at me reassuringly. “I’m really good at balancing stuff on my head.”
Crickets.
I continue, “I can balance a stack of books or a drink if you guys give it to me. I can basically balance anything.”
The woman behind the bar snorts out a laugh. “Prove it!”
I give her a small smile. “I just need an object.”
A man with a Batman mask near the stage hops up from his booth and hands me his beer can. “Balance this,” he grunts out.
I look at him. “Done.”
I take off my snapback and place the beer on my head. I take a few steps back and forth to show it's not going anywhere. The crowd lets out a cheer as I hand his drink back to him.
“Try this!” An older lady, adorned with a Betty Boop disguise, walks over and hands me an 8-ball she took off the pool table.
I grin back at her. “Easy peasy.” This time I run in place with the ball on my head. Everyoneooohhsandahhhhs.
I am starting to enjoy myself when the bartender lets out a dramatic fake yawn and says, “That’s light work. Show me something impressive.”
She crosses her arms and although I can’t see her expression under the box, I can assume it’s a smirk. She’s taunting me and I’m enjoying it.
“Damn, Fruity O’s. Okay,” I say in response, giving her a playful look. “Someone hand me that bar stool.”
“Hell yeah!” Wes says, laughing, and Eddie has already gotten out his phone to never let me live this moment down.
The bartender walks from behind the bar, arms still crossed, and grabs a stool. She then walks it up to me and I bend down to grab it.
I flip the wooden stool upside down and place it on my head, starting to balance it. Everyone watching begins to count, “One…two…three…”
I’m starting to feel extremely confident by the time I hit thirty seconds. The crowd is hooting and hollering their approval. The idiot in me decides to take it up a notch and I start squatting up and down while still balancing the stool. Everyone goes wild and I hear the bartender laughing. It’s an adorable belly laugh, and I tilt my head down a little bit to try and look at her out of the corner of my eye.
That’s where I make my mistake. When I tilt my head, drawn in by her laugh, the stool falls off my head. Faster than I can grab it, it smacks into the bartender watching below, face first.
Chapter 9
Olive
“Fuck!” I yell out as I get smacked in the face with the wooden bar stool. I bend down and rip off my mask, grabbing my nose. I feel people begin to crowd around me as blood starts to drip through my fingers. I hear someone yell out for a napkin with urgency.
Okay, I’m bleeding. Badly. I see red drops hit the sticky bar floor. I don’t do well with blood.You’re going to be okay, I try to convince myself as someone pushes a wad of paper towels into my bunched-up hands. I throw out a general, “I’m okay! It’s fine, I’m fine,” to everyone around me and lift my head up. The regulars are looking at me in horror, so I smile while pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to reassure them that I am okay.
At that exact moment, I see the man from the stage before me holding out more paper towels and apologizing profusely. I couldn’t get a good look at him before with my cardboard mask on, but he’s hot. So hot. He looks just like Diego Boneta with long curls and facial hair. I continue to force a smile and start to tell him something along the lines of, “It’s okay.”
I glance behind him and do a double take when I see myself in the mirror on the wall. Blood is dripping from my nose into my smiling mouth and down the front of my white button-down.
Promptly, I faint.
Chapter 10
Hunter
Oh my god. I just saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life and now she’s lying on the ground unconscious because I gravely injured her. She looks like Snow White with fair skin, dark hair, and full, red lips. But unlike Snow White, I’m not going to bend down and kiss an unconscious woman I just met. Whoever thought that was a promising idea for a children’s story?
I quickly kneel next to her, alongside many other bar patrons.
