Page 12 of Dark Panther's Desperate Beauty

Chapter Seven

Erik

I’m sitting down at my standard table at the bar. Rylee hasn’t broken away from her duties to sit down with me like she usually does but I don’t mind. I enjoy watching her work or just listening to the music and knowing I’ll be with her soon. I’ve lost sight of her at the bar, and I imagine she’s in the back right now delivering drinks to the talent.

At least, I imagine that until she steps out onto the stage. I realize she’s going to sing, and that surprises me. I’m not unhappy about it. I’m just surprised. The band starts with a blues rock beat and I notice the bar manager is nervous. I’m guessing this isn’t planned and that someone likely called in sick or something.

And then she opens her mouth and Heaven descends on the place.

There are a number of ways I can describe her voice but I’ll start by saying she’s a powerful, raw, and expressive mezzo-soprano. Panthers, shifters, are almost addicted to music. We know it. We need it. This girl’s voice! It has a bluesy quality and a wide vocal range, strong vibrato, and deeply emotional delivery. She’s doing Cry Baby by Janis Joplin, a song only an idiot would try because you can’t compete with Janis.

Except she does. Rylee’s voice seems to pour out with raw intensity, and she imbues this song, this song that ought to be out of touch for anyone other than Janis, with a personal and almost primal individuality that…

The girl’s pain is out there for all of us to hear, and there’s no way to keep from hearing it. Her phrasing and delivery are right up there with Janis but also…

I don’t know how to explain it. She feels raw but her voice is also gentle at points.

Her performance opens me to the lyrics in a new way. I’ve heard the song hundreds of times, I think, but this is the first time I realize it’s not just expressing the pain but also begging for the guy to return. It’s not just sad but there’s an air of desperation to the whole thing that makes it impact even more deeply for me. I stare as she stands there nervously, mouth closed and eyes furtive. I stare in shock and then I’m on my feet applauding.

And everyone else is, too.

It’s like a climactic moment in a movie there the audience pauses for four or five seconds and then leaps up to bring their hands together. It’s the sort of thing you always see in movies but never real life. It happens in real life this time, though. Everyone is hit hard by Rylee’s performance. Everyone is overpowered.

The girl is magic.

Impossible magic.

She stands there on stage, no longer furtive and nervous but almost bemused. I can see the emotion threatening to overtake her and without realizing I’m doing it, I rush to the stage. I easily sidestep security and leap up. I land in front of her just as she starts to cry. My arms go around her and she lets it all flow out of her while the audience applauds some more. I feel a tap on my shoulder, turn, and see a security guard. The manager of the bar steps in, though, and waves him away. The manager says, “What the hell are you doing waiting tables?”

She laughs a little through her tears. He walks to the edge of the stage and grabs a napkin for her tears. Then he grabs the microphone and says, “What do you say we convince her to sing another?” Naturally, the applause is overwhelming.

Four hours later, I open the door to her hotel room and help her inside. She’s exhausted. She’s happy. She may, actually, be truly happy for the first time since we’ve met.

“That was just so...amazing. Rylee, you’re incredible.”

She smiles at me but waves me off. “Well, it was fun, but I’ll be back to waiting tables tomorrow so ...”

I shake my head. “No way, you’re too talented to just be wasting away as some bar waitress. I mean, even your manager wants you to perform.”

“Well, I told him no.”

I’m stunned into silence for a moment.

She sits on the edge of the bed and picks at the cheap coverlet. “I don’t have any of my band stuff anymore. I pawned it. I made a decision to give up that life, Erik. It was taking too much away from me.”

“But you just need the right ...”

She hops up and hugs me. “Erik, I really appreciate you believing in me and all, but I need you to know that I’m happy right now. I’m happy with how things are going.” She puts a hand on my cheek and kisses me. “I’m happy with you.”

But I’m like a dog with a bone (or a panther with a rabbit?), and I just can’t let Rylee throw this talent away. “What about your guitar? You still have that.”

“It’s pretty beat up and it’s just an acoustic. It’s just for fun.”

“But you could do more. I can help you get gigs, or manage or ...”

“No!” She steps away from me. “Look, Erik, I’m just not that good and I don’t need to focus on the wrong thing here when I’m just starting to build the right thing.”

I want to tell her she’s just being modest and surely, she knows how good she really is. I want to tell her I’ll be there to support her, but I see the look on her face, and I stay quiet.

---