"Then when it was your turn to ask me to trust you and you said I'd love it," I continued, "you decided to bring me…" I waved my hand wildly in all directions, "here?"
The place in question was dank. It was grimy. It had low lighting, sticky floors and stained tables. It was the sketchiest dive bar I'd ever been to in my life.
It was also a secret bar hidden behind Sin and Tonic that was private and members-only.
With the men in leather jackets hanging around the pool table, it looked like a motorcycle gang's headquarters. With the skinny punks huddling in the corners, it looked like a place where drug deals went down. With the beefy bartender who had a scar above his eyebrow, it looked like a place where you came to knock together a few heads and lose some teeth in the process.
Why on earth anyone would voluntarily come to a place like this, aside from perhaps stumbling upon it randomly, was baffling. Why anyone would then choose to continue coming here as a private member was beyond all comprehension.
"See, the thing about this place," Mason began as he put an arm around my shoulder and urged me forward, out of the doorway where I'd halted, and further into the dingy bar. "It's got someinterestingpeople."
The stress he put on the word interesting didn't escape my notice.
"You mean, aside from the scary bikers and the bartender who looks like he could win in a fight against a grizzly bear?" I asked.
Mason didn't reply with words. He nodded his chin to a table where a small group of people were sitting and drinking. From across the room, they all seemed to be about my age, laughing and chatting with each other. They didn't look like a biker gang, or like they were doing a drug deal. They looked pretty normal, actually.
Until a girl with deep red hair turned her face toward me and I recognized who she was.
"Holy shit!" I gasped. "Is that—? Is she—?What—!"
I continued sputtering as Mason grinned at me smugly. I pulled his head down until my lips were to his ear.
"That's the lead singer of Cherry Lips!" I hissed.
"Her name's Cerise," Mason said easily. "Nice girl."
"What is she doing here?" I hissed again.
"Connor's older brother Walt owns this bar," Mason began to explain. "Word got around in the music industry that this was a place you could go to get a quiet drink and not be bothered by fans or the media."
"Well,yeah,because no sane person would choose to drink here," I muttered, before clearing my throat and straightening my back. "Thank you for showing me this place," I said politely. "I do think it's pretty neat to see a secret rock star hideout."
Even if it was the sketchiest dive bar I'd ever been to.
Mason chuckled and patted me on the shoulder.
"That's not why we're here," he said. "Although impressing you with my famous friends is a perk."
"You don't need to impress me," I told him.
"You know how we've been watching all those Disney movies and you've been singing along horribly to all of them?" he asked.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Yes…?" I asked slowly.
"Tonight's your big night."
Mason nudged me forward, past the bar counter and into the middle of the room. That was when I saw it.
A small stage at the front with a single microphone stand in the center and a dented and beaten up karaoke machine off to the side.
I let out an incredulous laugh.
"For real?" I asked him. "Karaoke? At a place like this?"
"Karaoke night is the most popular day of the week here," Mason said with a straight face.