Page 96 of Tethered Souls
Making my way to the stage in a very quick walk that is in no way a run, I take the mic from the lady and keep my gaze far, far away from the table where the reaper is still sitting. I pick a song off the playlist, wish I’d brought my drink up or at least downed the rest of it, and then freeze. The song starts to play from the speakers. The lyrics appear on screen. My fingers turn white around the mic.
People stare at me in expectation.
Sweat builds on my palms.
Who the hel ever thought this would be a good idea? I don’t even like people. My idea of a fun weekend is curling up with a book. Or petting a dog. I like animals. Crowds less so.
Being ‘normal’ is so overrated I suddenly decide. What does it matter if I missed out on things I don’t really want to do? But just as I start to take that first step to run off the stage, the clamps on my nipples buzz.
I jerk, nearly dropping the mic in my hand. My eyes fly to Varius. He’s still talking to the manager, not even looking at me, but his hand is in his pocket. The clamps buzz again.
Sing for me.
My cheeks hot, I start to mumble into the microphone. I don’t really know this song though, so I’m forced to look at the screen. Blocking everything out other than the fact that Varius wants me to sing, I start to get a bit louder. Every time I increase my volume and show a bit more confidence, the nipple clamps buzz in approval.
I’m grinning now, singing for all I’m worth, but the song’s nearly over, the music dying. But still, I did it, and I’m so fucking proud of myself. I start to head off stage, only to immediately freeze as someone in the front row shouts, “Do another one! You’ve got this this time!”
“Ah…”
“Yeah, go for it!”
“Show us what you’ve got!”
My ears burning from the force of my grin, I take my time to actually go through the playlist and pick a song I know. Excited to see, “Everything Burns” by Ben Moody and Anastasia, I click on it and start to sing.
The crowd hushes in anticipation. Closing my eyes, I suck in a breath, then exhale slowly. The lyrics start, and I sing with everything I have.
Cheers and whistles echo out in front of me, and I try not to grin so I can keep my tones right. I hit all the high notes and the lows, change my voice for the male and female parts. I absolutely love this song, and I sing it with every part of my soul.
When it is over, they ask for another.
And another.
Eventually, I plead for a needed break but promise to be back in a couple minutes. I head off the stage feeling like a damn superstar. Who knew I could sing? I could’ve been the next Taylor Swift if I hadn’t been raised an assassin.
Avoiding the table with Khalid, I head over towards Varius, who’s still at the bar. I know he doesn’t want me to interrupt whatever conversation he’s having, so I stop a few paces away from him and lean on the counter of the bar. I order something fruity, my attention more on Varius than the drink. I glance at him. He doesn’t look at me, but the buzz on my clamps make me smile. I take a sip as I walk back to Khalid. I have to use the bathroom, and I can’t just leave my drink anywhere, so unfortunately I’m going to have to face him.
You’re an assassin, Micha.
A damn good one.
You’re scared of no man!
Except for Khalid.
Ha! Yeah. Except him.
He could kill me in his sleep.
Deciding I’ll just buy a new drink, I leave my cocktail on a random table, then head for the restroom.
I enter the ladies room, surprised to see it empty. Usually, there’s always a line a mile long. Guess no one wanted to miss me singing. Grinning, I step into a stall.
The door of the bathroom opens, and a woman instantly sighs. “Holy fucking shit. That woman cannotsing.”
A second woman groans. “A set of bagpipes played by a goat would’ve been kinder on my ears.”
Woman One laughs. “Nails on a chalkboard.”
