Page 1 of Broken Melody
“Oh my god,” my best friend Britt cries from her seat at the bar. “I think my ears are bleeding.”
“Be nice,” I tell her despite trying to stifle my own laughter. Turning away from her, I try my best to ignore her distracting comments and pour a few drinks. She’s right though; the guy singing is pretty much…well…he’s awful. It’s even worse that he has absolutely no idea. He’s proudly giving it his all; he’s belting out a Maroon 5 song while swaying and hip jutting, likely thinking it adds to his performance. But, it doesn’t - not at all. The reaction of the crowd is mixed. Some are laughing, while some are not so discreetly making fun of him from their safe seats at their tables, but most are good-naturedly head bobbing to the music, despite his rendition. Others – I venture to say, those that have had the most to drink - are even cheering him on.
God, I love it here. The people, the atmosphere, the music – it’s my jam. I can’t help but smile as I work.
“Seriously,” Britt whines again, “isn’t this song over yet?”
I giggle softly as I wipe down the bar. “You know, you could just leave,” I tease, “problem solved.”
She rolls her large eyes making me laugh because I know that’s Britt speak for I’m not going anywhere. “You’d miss me,” she states matter-of-fact.
No matter how many times I tell her that she really shouldn’t sit here and try to talk my head off while I’m working, she doesn’t care; she does it anyway. In truth however, I’m pretty sure my boss Dusty doesn’t mind it one bit. His constant flirting and joking with her is a definite indication. Plus, when she’s not here, he clearly notices – asking where she is and if she’s coming. He even called her adorable once. Yeah, he’s got it bad for her. Problem is, Britt doesn’t seem to notice him back. At least not in the way he’d prefer.
Looking around the room while I prepare drink after drink as orders roll in from the waitresses, I see a lot of familiar faces. Friday and Saturday nights bring the crowd in here at The Hook. Discounted drinks, appetizers, and the best karaoke in town, in my opinion, make this the place to hang out for many. Maybe we’re all simple, easy to please, or maybe it’s being surrounded by others with the same interests - I’m not sure.
“Hey, Sailor,” someone yells from across the room interrupting my thoughts.
“Hey Brad, how’s it going?” I ask when I see one of our regular customers smiling flirtatiously while making his way to the bar. He’s cute, I think as I check out his smile and button up shirt. He’s too college preppy good boy to be my type, but he’s still nice to look at.
“It will be better when you get up there. When is it your turn?” he asks gesturing to the stage. “I want to make sure I get a good seat.”
Smiling, I shrug, “I’m not sure if I’ll sing tonight.”
“Don’t listen to her, of course she is,” Dusty answers as he comes up behind me. “She still doesn’t realize that half of the people here come solely to listen to her.”
“Whatever, Dusty, that’s not true at all.”
Dusty rolls his eyes at me, pats me on the back, then looks at Brad, “See what I mean?”
Brad nods, smiles, then turns to find a table while I’m distracted by Kylie, a waitress, rattling off another drink order. “Two vodka cranberry’s, three Miller Lite’s from the tap please, and a house margarita no salt.”
“Got it,” I tell her and rush to make her drinks while also smiling at a patron that comes up to the bar and waits patiently to place his order.
“Thanks, Sailor,” Kylie says and walks away balancing her drinks carefully on a tray at her shoulder.
“That guy was cute,” Britt says at the same time I ask a customer, “What can I get you?” I shoot Britt a look telling her to shut it, knowing she’s wanting to talk about Brad. Focusing back on the man, I smile. I’ve never seen him before. I wonder which type he’ll be: is he going to be in and out for a drink; sit and stay a while; or have too much to drink and start telling me his life story. If I had to guess I’d say he’s going to be a sit and stay.
“What have you got on tap?” he asks and I ramble off the beers until he interrupts to let me know which he’d like and orders two glasses. While I pour he looks around the room, “Busy night.”
“Yeah, this is how it always is on Friday’s and Saturday’s. And it’s karaoke night which tends to bring in the crowd.”
“So I hear. Rumor has it that you’ve got a great singer here. A woman. I’m told she brings in the crowd on your karaoke nights. Will she be singing tonight?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him looking at him curiously.
“Do you know if she’s here right now?”
My brow furrows, “I’m not sure.” I know he’s talking about me, even though admitting it to myself invokes a feeling of conceit that causes me to squirm a bit, but I have no idea who he is or why he would be interested in me. Maybe it’s nothing other than an interest in hearing me sing. But, I don’t know him, and I’m not comfortable telling him anything.
“God, I hope so,” he says and I frown again, even more curious now.
“Why’s that? Worried you might be wasting your time chasing a rumor?”
He laughs softly, nods a thank you when I hand him his drink, and takes a sip before replying. “Something like that,” he says, then grabs the other beer along with his and disappears into the crowd.
“Isaid,” Britt says once more, “he was cute.”
“Who? Him?” I ask and point in the general direction of the disappearing customer.
