I realize that I seem to prefer couples that the rest of the Internet hates, but I don't care. Jimmy's character bugged me in the beginning, but the more we got to know him, the more I rooted for him. He had a lot of setbacks, but Karen made him a better person. And I liked that.
This story follows the show- I do add in some missing or vaguely referenced scenes the TV show omitted for time. The dialogue is mostly the same.
I have some changes planned for future chapters, but I like their development in the beginning. Jimmy isn't perfect- in fact, he's a tremendous jerk at first. But I hope this explains (at least a little) why he is the way he is- and shows the immense effort he put forth trying to change that- even though he stumbled along the way. He's human- in a TV character kind of way...
The story is told from both Karen and Jimmy's POV. I hope you like it!
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Of course I do not own these characters, the dialogue or anything really.
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Jimmy
It seems like work will never end today. It's been a quiet afternoon and that just makes time pass all the more slowly. Not that I have bigger plans than a couch and a cold beer, but it beats standing around not making money...
All my tables are empty and bussed so I return to the bar to fold napkins, hoping five o'clock comes quickly.
A woman is standing at the end of the bar, listening to her iPod. Lost in her song, she seems unperturbed that no one has waited on her yet. She turns toward me slightly and her dark hair falls away from her face.
I catch her eye, "You gonna sit down and order something?"
She looks up at me as she declines, "No, I'm waiting for my friend."
Now that she's looking right at me, I'm caught off guard by her beauty. It's not the fake, over processed kind that so many find attractive. Her face is open and kind- softer than many you see in the City That Never Sleeps. She must not have lived here long.
I realize I'm staring. But in her distraction, she hasn't noticed. She's looking at her iPod again. "Get you something while you wait then?" I offer.
Sounding a little exasperated, she declines more forcefully the second time, "No. Thanks."
'Just doing my job...' I grumble silently as I return to my task. Despite being irritated by her attitude I can't seem to keep my eyes from wandering back to her as I absentmindedly fold napkins.
"I'm Jimmy by the way," I announce. Not that she asked...
She spins to face me, "Do you talk to ALL your customers this much?" Her reply is curious, but also a bit condescending.
Her tone raises my hackles, but at the same time her word choice amuses me. Customer? Customers pay my bills. "Are you a customer?" I inquire pointedly. "Hmm. I thought you were just another actress taking a meeting in my station who won't order anything but a glass of water."
She gets defensive, "I'm not like that." She's cute when she's annoyed.
"Karen!" She turns. Her attention is taken by some critic guy who's here all the time. Kyle would know his name.
He takes her hand in both of his, "I can't wait to see you in the show!" I knew she was an actress. "I hear amazing things," he continues. Hmm, for a critic he sure seems to like her.
She seems embarrassed and flustered by the praise. "Thanks. Thank you." He walks away toward the dining room.
Karen he said her name was. Smirking, I lean my elbows on the bar and wait.
She turns back to me and I give her our water choices, "Still or sparkling?"
Seeming to know it was coming she rolls her eyes at me and asks for tap water.
/
Karen
It's hard to believe how much my life has changed in thirty six hours. Yesterday I was the star in the hottest new musical moving to Broadway and tonight… well tonight I'm unemployed and sitting alone in a bar.
I've been chasing the pulp of my lime around my glass for the last half hour. I just can't make myself go home. I can't believe that it's over. I worked so hard, I fought so hard and Marilyn was finally mine… and now she's no one's.
How can a show that good NOT go to Broadway?
I sigh. My dream was so close I could touch it and now it's gone. What do I do now? Another endless series of auditions hoping someone will pick me from the pile again?
My depressing reverie is broken with the slap of a hand on the bar. It's that bartender again. Jimmy- I think?
"Hey, you done? The bar's closing."
I check the clock- I still have fifteen minutes until I have to face the outside world. "The sign says you're open 'til one. It's only quarter til."
"Yeah, and you've been watching your ice melt for the past twenty minutes," he reminds me drily. "And while I appreciate that you actually ordered something, people gotta get back to their real lives."
Great, the bartender has a better life than me. "Yeah, this is my real life."
"Alone at a bar at 12:45. Sorry." His tone reflects none of the sympathy his words suggest.
Wow. I thought bartenders were supposed to listen to your woes. Not that I wanted to spill my life story or anything. Certainly not to this jerk. Geez. What's his problem?
Lucky for him he's good looking. People skills don't seem to be his strong point. "You really don't have the 'talking to customers' thing down do you?"
His entire demeanor changes in an instant, his hazel eyes becoming intense and inviting. "You wanna teach me?"
He's quick on his feet. I'll give him that.
I bet he's used to those eyes working on the water ordering actresses that usually come in here. But not me. I shove some cash in the bill folder and push it toward him with a look that says, 'nice try.' "Keep the change."
He glances at it before pushing it back at me, "Nah, I'm good thanks." I watch him walk away. What an arrogant…
I turn to the other bartender as I gather my things. "Is he always like that?"
He laughs, "Yeah. Kinda." I start to stand when he stops me, "Hey, um, don't I know you?"
Surely he's not trying a bad pick up line too. "I doubt it."
He ignores my denial, pointing at me, suddenly excited, "You're Karen Cartwright!"
Who is this kid?
He continues eagerly, "I saw you in "Bombshell"!" A pang shoots through me at the name. "You were incredible. I was so sorry to read about what happened." Ok, probably not hitting on me.
I nod, "Me too." I turn to go again. "Thanks." My first celebrity recognition- and probably my last. It's kind of embarrassing…
"Hey," he stops me again, "Um, will you do me a favor?" He dives behind the bar and fumbles around. I stand on my tiptoes to see what he's doing. He returns with a folder, and dumps its contents on the bar. He paws through the booklets and triumphantly he holds up a familiar playbill. "Can you sign this for me?"
Ok, now I'm really embarrassed. I laugh.
"I know it's really corny, but I have a collection of programs from failed musicals..."
Another pang of loss. This one must have registered on my face.
"Oh damn, I'm sorry. I have this thing, I just start talking before I realize what I'm talking about and just..." Words continue to tumble from his mouth. He's like a puppy in his awkward eagerness. I like him already.
"Ok," I agree- mostly to ease his embarrassment- and sign the playbill.
From the back I hear Jimmy call, "Kyle! We gotta get going!"
Kyle (apparently) sighs.
"Oh! Are you two…?" Weird, I thought Jimmy was hitting on me… oh well. "Are you guys like…?" I leave the question unfinished.
"Us?" Kyle laughs, embarrassed. "No, God, no," he's denying this awfully hard… "I mean, he's not..." Ah. I nod.
"But does it look like we are?" Kyle asks hopefully.
Oh Kyle... I smile gently, "You have a good night." I squeeze his hand as I leave.
As I walk out the door, I reach for my phone to tell Ana that I'm on my way.
/
Jimmy
We're finally closed, and I can't wait to get to the piano. As the shift wound down I finally worked out the last of the lyrics for the song that I've been kicking around in my head the last few days and I want to see how it sounds. I sit down eagerly and place my hands on the keys. The first notes rise from the instrument I'm lost in thought.
Since I can remember I've sung and played the piano.
When I was really young my mom would sometimes play on the old piano in our house. I'm not sure where the piano came from, but some of my happiest childhood memories are of the two of us sitting on that worn bench as she patiently taught me scales and simple melodies. My father hated it. He complained it would make me soft. But then, he wasn't a fan of much that my mother or I did. It was one of the few arguments she won- not that she didn't pay for the victory in other ways.
She didn't sing much, and only when my father wasn't around, but I remember her having a beautiful voice.
I'm glad my mother fought so hard for this. It feels good at the end of a long day to belt out a song, taking with it the frustration, the annoyances, and the thousand other emotions that make up every day.
Writing songs came naturally to me. Kyle's outlet was always writing. He tried to get me interested in that, but my words came out in song. Which is how his play became a musical.
I think of the girl at the bar- Karen. I can't decide if I'm attracted to her or annoyed by her.
I guess it could be both.
I can't forget to pay for her drink. I figured it was the least I could do for the entertainment. Bantering with her the last two days was fun.
As I reach the new section, I focus on the words- the agony of rejection, the hope of better things, the joy of dreams realized.
/
Karen
After a brief moment of panic, I realize I probably left my phone on the bar. I turn around and walk back inside. Apologetic, I put my hand up, "I forgot my phone, sorry!"
I pause. I hear music that wasn't playing a moment ago. I look for its source and see Jimmy seated at the piano.
"Oh! You didn't see this!" he pleads. "He's not playing the piano- he's not supposed to." He waves his hands as if to erase the memory.
"What is that he's playing?" I ask curiously as I move closer. I've never heard this piece before.
"It's uh," flustered, he dives under the bar partition still trying to stop my approach, "just a song he- we wrote for um, for this musical we're working on."
"Cool," I say distractedly, still moving toward the piano.
"Look, you really gotta go, I'm sorry." He's standing in front of me, but I barely hear him. The music has drawn me in, like a moth to flame. Out of the corner of my eye I see Kyle give up and walk away.
As I nod along, I realize someone else should hear this. I dial a number in my phone. "Derek? You need to hear something- listen." I hold the phone out as Jimmy's voice swells.
I hear his voice, tiny from the speaker, "Where are you? What is that?"
I return the phone to my ear as I shrug, even though he can't see. I can't describe it.
I recall his words from earlier, "Something else." I hold the phone out again. My head unconsciously nods with the rhythm of the song.
Jimmy's music gives me goose bumps and I'm in awe watching him play. He's lost in his song, concentrating only on the keys he's playing and the exquisite lines of the melody he's singing, never noticing I'm standing only a few feet away.
He's singing like a man possessed. I watch, mesmerized, as the arrogant, irritating bartender from before is transformed before my eyes.
Watching him is a study of emotion. His fingers caress the keys as he changes chords. His face intense as his voice rises and falls. His eyes squeeze shut in joy, his jaw tenses with remembered pain. At times he releases his words as if freeing them from his soul, his face jubilant. Moments later, he spits them angrily as his neck cords with the effort.
I notice his perfect posture and how his shirt fits him perfectly, clinging to his strong shoulders and chest. As he builds to the climax he pounds the keys and the muscles in his arms stand out. As he belts the final words, his fingers crash onto the final chords and when he's done, he's breathing hard from the exertion.
As the final note fades away, Kyle is back at my elbow guiding me out the door before I can shake the spell of the song and talk to Jimmy. I ask Kyle for Jimmy's number and he gives it to me, along with his own- on the condition that I leave immediately.
I head home, humming the melody. I realize I never hung up with Derek. I check my phone, but the line is dead- he must have hung up.
I think about calling Jimmy now, but that might seem desperate. I'll wait until tomorrow. Instead, I call Derek back to apologize and to see what he thought.
/
Jimmy
The next morning Kyle tells me about meeting Karen- and about her play getting canceled.
I guess she really did have something to drink about. Oops.
"Oh, by the way," he says as he walks toward the kitchen. "She heard you play last night. She asked me for your number."
"What?!" I can't decide if I'm excited she wanted my number or angry he let someone listen.
"I couldn't stop her, I tried. But she really liked it." My heart swells a little. "She asked me about the musical- she said she wanted to talk to you about it."
I decide on angry, "What did you tell her? WHY did you tell her?"
"She asked about the song- sorry!"
He's not sorry. Great. She's not interested in me, probably wants to use us for our songs. Well, we won't be her Jesse- she's not THAT cute.
The little voice in the back of my head snorts in derision. Ok fine. She's pretty cute.
Just then my phone rings and an unfamiliar number pops up in the display. "Speak of the devil."
I watch it ring.
"Aren't you going to answer it?"
Did he get hit on the head last night?
"No." I look at the screen again, waiting for the voicemail icon to pop up so I can delete it.
Kyle shakes his head, muttering about my stubbornness.