Page 26 of Falling for Them
“I don’t have any money.”
“Well, you have a voice.You’re up next.”He turns to call over his shoulder, “We have a new performer, Kitty Cats!”
A loud cheer erupts from deeper in the room.
Hell.
“No, actually, I’ll just go back outside,” I start to say.Then I realize that if I go outside, those men are probably going to find me.I can’t stay here forever, but I can waste an hour or two.“Yeah, okay.I’ll sing.”
Sebastian
The Kitty Cat Karaoke bar goes nuts at Rick’s announcement.I lean back in my booth, getting comfortable.It’s been strangely quiet in here tonight.I was tempted to go up and take the stage, myself, just to alleviate my boredom.But the people who frequent this place currently don’t recognize me.As soon as I open my mouth to sing, that’ll change, and I just can’t fucking handle that.
I take a sip of my iced tea and pick up my phone, reading through my contacts list and deleting people I can’t remember.
The opening to “Me and Bobby McGee” by Janice Joplin begins.Bold choice.Older tunes aren’t as popular here.Usually we get a lot of pop music with a sprinkling of indie rock.Well, when Rick said we had a new performer, maybe he meant really new, as in, they’ve never been here before.
And then the performer sings her first line.
This is no amateur.
Startled, I scoot to the side of my bench so I can see the stage.I can barely believe my fucking eyes, because standing there in a pair of black jeans and a black button-up blouse is the maid from Tyler Analytics.
She follows Joplin’s inflections perfectly, like she has grown up singing this song.Her normal voice isn’t the same as Joplin’s, but she’s modified it a little from what I heard before at King’s building.Tonight, she sounds a little scratchier, a little rougher.
Beautifulandtalented.
I was interested in her before.
Now I know that I need her.
When the song reaches the vocables, where Joplin sings all the “la-la-la” parts, the maid raises her hands, inviting the audience to join in.A few of them do, but most are sitting still, enraptured by the maid’s singing.Is she pop star material?Not yet, not without some training.I’m not going to see her on the next reality talent show.But she can carry a tune and she sounds damned good.
The song ends and the audience loses their shit.Clapping, whistling, stomping, cheering.The maid—fuck, I need to learn her name—blushes, and it’s so fucking adorable, I can’t stand it.
The audience clamors for an encore.The maid shakes her head, but they don’t let up.
“Okay, okay,” she says into the mic.“One more song.Any requests?”
I stand up, raise my hand.The entire joint goes silent as I do.It’s weird the influence I have here, when they don’t seem to know who I am.Maybe because I’m a regular, maybe because I’m at least ten years older than everyone else in the place.
Doesn’t matter why they’re all looking to me.I have the maid’s attention now, and she’s the one I want.
She squints at me.Does she recognize me?She’s seen me twice at Kingston’s building.
“Okay,” she says, pointing in my direction.“You have a request?”
“Yeah, I do.‘Do I Wanna Know?’by the Arctic Monkeys,” I say.It’s the song I first heard her singing in the Tyler building.I wonder if she’ll realize who I am.
She grins at me, her smile knowing—she does remember that, and she recognizes me.
“Will you sing it with me?”she asks.
Everyone in the lounge cheers, but I shake my head and sit back down in my booth.
She looks as if she wants to press the issue, but a couple of guys right next to the stage raise their hands, and she nods that they can join her.
She’s beautiful, bracketed by two men, their voices rising and falling with the melody.A pang of regret washes through me, that I’m not standing up there with her.But it’s too risky—I don’t want to ruin the one place where I can hide out and relax, unknown to everyone around me.
