Page 9 of Street of Dreams
“Thirty minutes is fantastic!” He reached across the bar and hugged her. “Thanks for doing this for me. You’re a great friend. How much am I getting paid?”
She laughed. “Not much. Whatever you bring in at the door. So, we need to blast your social media sites and figure out a marketing plan. We can’t exactly offer them a free beer like we’re doing here on Saturday night. That’ll end up costing—”
“Hold on there, lassie.” Mac’s da interrupted their conversation. “No strangers are gettin’ free pints in me bar.”
“Relax, Mr. Mackenzie. It’s just one beer. We handed out flyers. If people show you a flyer, they get one free beer. It’s a promotion in order to get people to come into the pub to see Mac play. It’ll bring in new customers. Why don’t you run a special on wings or burgers? People will buy them, and I’m sure they’ll have a second beer. And maybe a third or fourth.”
She was extremely persuasive, and Mac knew she used that skill to get him the upcoming gigs. Still, his stubborn father eyed her warily.
“I promise,” Skyler continued. “If the people Mac brings in don’t buy a second drink or spend any money here, I’ll pay for their free beer.”
“Well. All right. But I’m holding ye to it.” He tapped his finger on the bar. “I’ll be keepin’ a tally of those flyers.”
Seven days. It had been seven days without any sign of Jake, and it had Mac worried. The King brothers didn’t even show up on Street of Dreams today to collect their till. And that wasn’t a good thing. Saying that the Kings owned Street of Dreams wasn’t just a figure of speech. If you wanted a coveted spot on the pavement, you had to see Jake King. In exchange for a weekly stipend, he kept the place safe. The King brothers ensured that the neighborhood thieves and junkies didn’t rip you off. They knew everyone, and they knew where to find everyone. And everyone knew it.
Street of Dreams was a place of opportunity. People came there to make a buck, be it from singing a song, selling a tamale, or dealing drugs. Without the protection of the Kings, Street of Dreams would be chaos. There would be violence and looting, and people’s livelihoods would be in jeopardy.
Mac had been playing on Street of Dreams for five years, and in that time, Jake had never missed a collection. The silent treatment, after years of in-your-face contact from the guy, was like a junkie quitting drugs cold turkey. Every time Mac turned a corner, he expected to see Jake’s taunting smirk or hear a snide remark, but neither materialized, and he craved the interaction.
Panic was slowly setting in. Jake ghosting Mac meant that he couldn’t deal with their sexual encounter. Things could go one of two ways. When Jake finally resurfaced, he could act as if nothing had happened, or he was going to lose his shit. The latter was the more likely scenario, and it was only a matter of time before Jake exploded.
Mac scrubbed his hand over his face, scratched at his short goatee, and let out a frustrated sigh. He shouldn’t be obsessing about Jake when he had a show to do in a few hours. Eventually, he and Jake would cross paths, and whatever happened, happened. Right now, he needed to get ready.
He took longer than usual to shower and dress and ended up getting to the pub late, but still with plenty of time for his show. When he arrived at Mackenzie’s, it was crowded with people. They greeted him as he walked through the pub, some with a nod. Others with a few pats on the back and comments about looking forward to the show. He looked around the room full of people in awe. The flyers worked. People came to see him perform.
Skyler ran up to him and threw her arms around him. She looked beautiful. With her hair loose, soft curls spiraled to her waist, and she was wearing more makeup than usual.
“People are buying drinks. And food. Thank God.” She laughed. “Your dad would have totally held me to my promise to pay if they didn’t.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Which is another reason why Mac was glad to see that so many people showed up. “This is incredible. I’ve never played in front of so many people before. I can’t believe they’re all here to see me.”
“You should mingle. Strike up conversations. Let everyone get to know you. But hurry up. You go on in 40 minutes.”
Mac took Skylar’s advice and had several friendly conversations before it was time for his set. When he stepped onto the small stage, nerves fluttered in his gut. He stood with his Gibson across his chest and looked into dozens of faces, all staring at him. They were mostly strangers, lured here by the promise of a free drink, and he was unsure if his performance would be enough.
He took a deep breath and gave himself a mental pep talk. He could do this. He’d been playing on the street for years, and he knew his vocal ability. Guitar chords were just an extension of his fingers, so there was no trepidation there. He’d start with one of his favorite covers, which showcased his voice. It was a newer band, so he wasn’t sure if people knew the song. He wanted to clarify that it wasn’t one of his originals, but wasn’t big on banter, so he just announced it. “Hi everybody. This isGhostby Badflower.”
The emotional song was perfect for his voice, and he poured his heart into it. He mostly sang with his eyes closed, so he could really connect with the heartache and torment portrayed in the lyrics, but at one point, he looked into the crowd. Everyone’s eyes were on him. They were riveted. When the song was over, he received an incredible round of applause. A few people whistled. It was an amazing high and boosted his self-confidence and solidified his musical ability. By the time the first set was over, Mac had debuted several of his originals, which the crowd loved. When he stepped off the stage for a break, several people surrounded him right away.
“Great show, man.” Mac barely had time to shake the guy’s hand before another guy started talking to him.
“Your manager gave me one of these flyers.” The guy held up a colored sheet of paper. “I’m gonna make the show at The Structure in two weeks. I got friends visiting. I’m gonna bring them with me. They’re gonna love you.”
“I love your kilt!” a girl squealed. “Can we get a picture together?”
“Sure.” Mac smiled as cell phones snapped his photo. It was amazing. He looked across the room for Skylar, so they could share this moment, but his eyes landed on his da, who was standing tall and grinning like the Cheshire cat. His da held up a pint and toasted him from behind the bar, indicating that it had been a profitable night.
Still accepting pats on the back and nodding his appreciation, Mac scanned the faces circling him. These people were his first fans.
Mac woke to someone banging on his apartment door as if the house were on fire. Groggy from only a few hours of sleep, Mac groaned. He rolled out of bed, threw on a pair of sweatpants and opened the door, still rubbing his eyes. “What the hell, Sky? Are you trying to wake up the neighborhood?”
“I’m so excited, Mac.” She danced into the apartment. “Aren’t you still riding high from last night?”
He stretched his arms over his head and reached for the ceiling while getting up on his toes. “I’m riding on three hours sleep. I helped my father close up after the show last night.” He noticed her smudged eyeliner and then her clothing. “You never went home? You’ve been out all night?”
She smiled devilishly. “Mateo showed up.”
It took him a minute, but then he remembered that Mateo was the guy Skylar cyberstalked to the bar the night Mac and Jake hooked up. Score one for Mateo, because if it weren’t for him, that night would have never happened. But at least Jake would still be in Mac’s life. “I’m putting on the kettle. Do you want coffee?” He pulled out a chair and told her to sit down, because he wanted to hear everything.
