Page 6 of That One Moment

“Him?” Leo raises one coppery brow.

Fuck.

“Them. I want to get to knowthemfirst. I saidthem.” I take a large swig of my drink, hoping the cold liquid will go some way to cooling the burning flush rising up my neck.

“You most certainly did not, you said ‘him’,” Lulu adds, her eyes sparkling, the same way they do whenever she’s about to dig into someone else’s love life.

Thankfully, my best friend takes pity on me and changes the subject. Well, kind of changes the subject.

“Mummy Maria said I can bring a plus one to the wedding,” Sage says.

“Oh! Pick me!” Leo exclaims. “Mummy Maria is going to look so fucking beautiful.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table and my heart warms at how much my friends adore my mother. Her nickname started back when we were sixteen because she is quite literally a mother hen to everyone I bring home. She feeds and fusses over all of them. There is not a person at this table - the newbie included - who hasn’t cried on her shoulder, eaten at her table or slept on her sofa. When Leo and I broke up, I think she was more devastated than I was. As soon as she met Marcus, she exclaimed that he was a much better fit for Leo anyway.

Like I’ve always said, Maria Durand has a huge heart and more than enough love for everyone. She may have only had one biological son but she loves this lot like they’re her own too.

Before anyone can bring up the subject of the twins again, the bar manager takes to the stage, addressing the crowd with a raucous cheer.

“Let’s go!” Sage shouts as she shoves the person sitting next to her. We all scoot out of the booth and make our way through the crowd to the front of the stage. The lights dim and a machine set to one side blasts out synthetic smoke that fills the room with a dreamlike haze.

The band starts off with an upbeat techno-esque cover of a song I don’t recognise but Sage must because she belts the lyrics, off tune, into my ear. We dance next to each other for a good hour, singing and swaying, our shoulders bumping as weget swept up in the music. At some point, Sage disappears and returns moments later with a sly grin.

“What did you do?” I yell, over the beat of the drum solo going on behind me. She doesn’t reply, instead, leans forward and plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek. I know her well enough to know she’s up to something.

I don’t have to wonder too long because just as there’s a lull in the music, the lead singer’s raspy voice addresses the crowd. It’s not a huge crowd but the cheer they respond with is loud enough to feel in your bones.

“For those of you who are regulars here, you’ll know that once a month the bar holds open mic nights. Now, I hear there’s someone in this crowd who has tried his hand at it a few times and is really fucking good.”

My stomach sinks. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sage nodding in response.

“I also hear,” he continues, “that this someone loves this next song so, I’d really love it if he'd join us on stage.”

Oh, God.Nerves chew at my insides as I brace myself for his next words, all the pieces - including the smug look on Sage’s face, falling into place.

“Jamie Durand, get your ass up here, mate.”

My friends go wild, screaming and hooting, shoving me closer to the stage. All the while, my heart picks up its pace, beating harder than any drum solo.

Here’s the thing - I love singing. I always have. And yes, I’ve stood up on open mic night once or twice but only on a quiet night when there’s maybe twenty people watching. Not on a night as popular as this one. I don’t aspire to be a singer, don’t dream of being in a band; it’s just something I like to do.

As the opening chords ofWhats Up?By the 4 Non Blondes start up though, I suck in a deep breath and shake my arms, hoping the move beats away the nerves. It doesn’t but, I climbthe few steps onto the stage and take the mic offered to me anyway.

A third singer joins us, starting off the song. As the chorus hits, she nods at me and I do it. I step forward and I sing.

It feels fuckingincredible. Nerves be damned, I belt out the words, feeling the rumble in my chest with each word that passes my lips.

By the end of the song, I am absolutely buzzing. The crowd cheers and all the members of the band shake my hand and pat me on the back before I leave the stage and get swept up by my friends.

“You were so good!” Leo exclaims as we make our way back to our table. My throat is dry and my legs shake as I walk but I’m grinning bigger than the Cheshire cat.

Sage hands me a drink just as I reach our table.

“I hate you,” I say. This girl, she pushes me all the time, but she does it with the best intentions and seriously, I love and adore her.

“You’re welcome.” She scoots into the booth and I’m just about to join her, when my phone vibrates against my leg, where it’s safely tucked in my pocket. I pull it out, the grin on my face growing - if that’s even possible - when I see who the message is from.

“Keep my seat, I’ll be back in a sec.” Sage gives me a knowing look but then turns her attention to Lulu. The band starts on a slower song, soft yellow strobe lights cast a hazy glow over the now nearly empty dance floor. A few people remain near the stage and I spot Leo and Marcus wrapped up together, swaying along to the soulful tune.

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