"There's an art gallery opening this evening, nine o'clock." His voice was warm on the other end of the line, it always made her flush.
"And?" she said, waiting for there to be a point in him telling her this.
"And…I happen to know the gallery will be featuring a few works from a certain little witch. Perhaps even a painting or two from a remarkably handsome hybrid," he said.
She laughed a little. "Alright. So…" she trailed, letting silence fill the air, waiting for him to say something.
"So…" he fumbled for words. Usually they came to him so easily, it was a natural talent for him to be smooth and charming and unflappable. Now, trying to ask her to go with him to the event, trying to formulate the words that would simultaneously imply it was a date if she was interested, and just a casual thing if she wasn't, he was at a loss.
"Look, are you trying to ask me to be your date?" she asked after a beat.
Again, he couldn't come up with ambiguous wording that would be applicable whether she wanted it to be a date or not. So he just said, "Yes."
"Pick me up at nine," she said, and hung up.
All evening she fussed over herself, picking different outfits from her closet, arranging and rearranging pieces and accessories, trying to decide what to wear. She spent almost an hour trying to curl her hair into beachy waves that would look like she hadn't almost spent an hour on them.
Her first date with Klaus. The thought finally struck her as she was applying her eyeshadow. An actual date. He had even said it was going to be a date. She hadn't even thought twice about saying yes.
She thought back to his own gallery showing, when she had said she wouldn't accompany him because they had a professional relationship, and that she could not cross boundaries into the realm of something more than that. And yet when he had asked her over the phone earlier in the afternoon, the word "boundaries" didn't even cross her mind.
And now she was coming up with every excuse to go on this date with him. It would have been so easy to pick up the phone, to say "You know what, maybe this isn't such a good idea." The phone stayed where she'd left it on her nightstand. It's too late to cancel now, she reasoned. It would be rude.
Two minutes before nine, she heard a knock on the door. Seeing him was like something straight out of a movie: her breath caught in her throat, her heart stopped, her stomach lurched, she stared at him up and down before having to shake her head to get a hold of herself. She hated how cliche she was being. And yet he was too handsome to have any other reaction. He'd combed his hair neatly so that his curls lay flat against his head, he had eschewed his regular jeans and long sleeved henley for a dark blue button down and a black pair of slim fitting slacks. No one could blame her for staring.
He took her in as well. She was wearing a beautiful dress with large leopard print all over it, cut across the middle with black velvet ribbon. The dress was cut perfectly around her figure, hugging her hips and cutting close to her legs where the hem ended just above her knee. She normally wouldn't have worn such a thing, especially not such a bold print, but considering it was a special occasion, she decided it was necessary. Animal print is sexy, she had reasoned when she'd picked it out. She hoped he thought she looked sexy, and from the way he was staring, she felt she had succeeded in this goal.
"Camille," he breathed. She flushed; she loved when he used her full name. Hardly anyone ever did anymore, which she didn't mind, that just made it more special when he used it. "You look radiant."
"You clean up pretty nice yourself," she said, giving him another once-over.
They spent another moment staring at each other, mesmerized by the beauty of one another, before Cami snapped out of it and looked at him expectantly. "Yes," Klaus covered quickly, "well, shall we?"
Once she was done locking up the apartment behind her, he extended his arm to her and she hooked her arm through his. They walked down the stairs together and out onto the street. "So where is this gallery?" she asked.
"It's a few blocks away." He looked down at her feet, noticing (or rather re-noticing) her very tall black high heels. "Are you alright with walking?"
"Yes," she said. Just walking down the street with him arm in arm made her feel like she was floating on a cloud; she didn't notice how painful the heels were. Okay, if she was being honest with herself, she totally did, they were already killing her, but she wasn't about to sacrifice the chance to walk with him like this. So she kept her mouth shut and focused on not letting the pain show on her face.
The rest of the way to the gallery, they walked in silence. She wanted to say something, and she got the sense that he did too, but she could never come up with anything intelligent or insightful to say. The silence wasn't uncomfortable but it certainly wasn't ideal; she wanted to hear about his day, what he did that morning, if he spent any time with baby Hope. She just couldn't think of a good way to approach those subjects without him being a smart*ss and giving her one-word responses. Even those would have been alright with her though, because she loved to hear him speak. She loved the sound of his voice, his accent…
They arrived at the gallery fifteen minutes later. Her feet were absolutely screaming in pain but she never let on. If she mentioned it, she was sure he would do something drastic and boneheaded like compelling some poor girl to give up her shoes to Cami, or insisting he carry her around all night. Come to think of it, she probably wouldn't have minded that, but she was too stubborn to admit that to herself, let alone out loud.
The inside of the gallery was already pretty full of people, some of whom she recognized. Davina was in a corner, standing by a charcoal drawing she had apparently done, talking excitedly to a few different people. When Cami and Klaus stepped in, Davina waved specifically at her, and then scowled at Klaus.
Cami laughed. "She's still mad at you, I see."
"Furious," he said. "I'm positive that she intends to kill me one way or another. She's a brilliant girl, I'd love to see what she comes up with."
Cami rolled her eyes. Leave it to Klaus to get excited about seeing what his enemies had planned for him.
Still arm in arm, they walked together over to the side of the room where there was a small table with a guestbook, wine, and cheese and crackers. Her stomach was too jittery for food right then, but she gladly accepted the glass of white wine that Klaus offered her. She could use some alcohol.
After procuring the wine for themselves, they both scanned the room, looking at both the art on the walls and the people filling the room. Cami's eyes fell upon Marcel, and all the color drained from her face as her caught her gaze. She hadn't anticipated him being here, she didn't want this to be awkward. After all, they had never really officially ended things between them, they just sort of…stopped.
Marcel came over to them. The momentary expression of pain that she'd seen cross his face had vanished as he extended his hand for Klaus to shake. He pointedly didn't shake Cami's hand. "Marcellus," Klaus said. "Good to see you, as always."
"Well, it's good to be here, to support local artists."
While Klaus and Marcel made small talk, Cami quickly downed the entirety of her glass of wine, hoping that drinking it would make her feel less awkward. When she was thinking of how the night would go, she had imagined she would run into people they knew, she had figured at least Rebekah and Davina would be there. But she didn't think Marcel would be there, and she hadn't anticipated what she would say to anyone who would ask about her being there with Klaus.
The question inevitably came up. "I didn't know you two would be here together," Marcel said, a cheesy fake smile plastered across his face. "How long has that been going on?"
Both she and Klaus scrambled for words, trying to downplay it. "It's just a…casual thing," she said after a minute. She didn't want to make a big deal out of it if Klaus didn't feel the same way, and she didn't want to hurt Marcel's feelings further. "Excuse me for a moment," she said.
Cami made her way back to the table with the wine and cheese, replacing her empty glass with a full one and taking a big swig of it. From the safety of the table, she watched Klaus and Marcel talking, wishing desperately that she could hear what they were saying. She rarely wished that she could be a vampire or a wolf, but if it meant she would have supernatural hearing in this moment, she would have gladly taken the opportunity if it presented itself.
Marcel glanced at her, Klaus turning his head to look at her. Her cheeks burned and she felt this queasiness in her stomach that only he gave her; he made her so nervous sometimes. Any way I could chug the rest of this glass and get another one without them noticing? she thought. She decided there was no way she could get away with it, although she desperately wished there was.
As she crossed the room to rejoin them, her feet screamed in pain from the shoes, and her brain told her to turn around. She knew this night was going to go terribly, she had had this gut feeling when she'd been getting ready. Klaus smiled at her when she came up at his side. "I'll be right back," he said, looking towards the door. She followed his gaze to see that Elijah had just walked into the gallery.
Once Klaus had crossed the room to speak to his brother, Marcel smiled at her. "Look," he said, "I know this is a bit…awkward. At least, for me it is, I don't know about you. But I've known for a while that you had feelings for each other." Cami's cheeks burned even redder when he said this, and she couldn't meet his eyes.
"So I just wanted to say that I wish you all the best. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and I think maybe Klaus could do that for you."
"It's just our first date," she said.
"I know," Marcel said. "Just trying to cover my bases, if things do go well for you two. No hard feelings."
"Thanks, Marcel."
He smiled, put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, and then left her standing alone to go talk to Davina. Cami turned around, expecting to see Klaus still talking to Elijah. Instead she found him merely standing by his brother, but not acknowledging him. He was staring at her intently; it was obvious that he had been listening to every word Marcel had said. And she figured Marcel knew that too.
The redness that had burned her cheeks now drained away. Klaus had just heard Marcel really lay on the pressure; he had just heard one of his closest friends say that he thought she and Klaus had some sort of future of happiness together. Cami was mortified. As much as she begrudgingly admitted that she did want what Marcel had anticipated for them, it was a lot of pressure to put onto people who were on their first date.
Slowly she walked back towards the door, where Klaus and Elijah were still standing. He turned to Elijah and said something to him in a low, urgent voice, causing Elijah to crack a small smile. "You needn't worry about me, brother," she heard him say to Klaus when she came up beside him once again.
Elijah's eyes fell upon her. "Camille, you're simply breathtaking."
"Well, thank you," she said. "I do try to impress every once in a while."
"Always," he corrected. "But especially tonight."
"You're too sweet, Elijah."
"It is a curse sometimes, but one of us has to be the nice, gentlemanly brother around here," he said, smiling.
"True," Klaus said. "Just as one of us had to be the diabolical, despicable brother. So I suppose since you've already claimed the Good Guy position, it falls unto my lot that I must be the Bad Guy."
"It's a tough job, but someone has to do it," Elijah said. "Better you than me."
Cami knew he wasn't kidding, it really was better that he played Good Cop. Because she had heard of some of the things Elijah had done, some of the people he'd killed, and how he'd gone about doing the killing, and that was Elijah In Control. She shuddered to think how he would be if he let go of hardened exterior of routine and control, and really gave in to way lay beneath.
"I think I'd better go say hello to some people," Elijah said, looking across the room. Hayley and Jackson were standing by a painting of a capsized sailboat in the back corner.
Cami wondered if it was really a good idea that he should go talk to them, but decided it wasn't her place to say anything. If he wanted to cause himself more pain by seeing someone he loved on the arm of another person, who was she to stop him?
"Are you feeling alright?" Klaus said, studying the expression on her face. "You look a little flushed." His hand came up, the back of it pressing lightly against her cheek, feeling her skin.
Embarrassingly, she felt the redness creep back up into her face, settling around the area he was touching. She wished she could control that, she wished it wouldn't be so obvious to him what she was feeling and thinking. He always seemed to be able to read it in her expression.
"I'm fine," she said.
His hand fell away, and the patch of skin where he'd touched her felt suddenly like ice. Please touch me again, she thought. She would have done anything to get him to touch her again like that, such tenderness and concern. Moments like that always made her question why people saw him as this monster. And immediately after she thought this, she would always remember all the deplorable things he'd done, all the people he'd hurt and killed and betrayed. Thinking about the evil he'd committed usually sobered her up, reminded her that she should stay away from him and ignore the growing feelings for him that were bubbling up inside her. But tonight, she did not think of the bad things, only of the sweetness within him that he seemed to show only to her.
Klaus's hand slipped into hers and she felt a warm shiver wash over her. "Let's go say hi to our friends, shall we?"
"You have friends?" she asked, giving him a teasing smile.
He took that in and rolled his eyes up as if he were considering it. "When I say friends, I really mean people I haven't killed yet," he joked.
"Ah, that makes more sense." He led her around the gallery, stopping to say hello to a few different people that she vaguely recognized but didn't really know. They made small talk with Hayley and Jackson for a few minutes before moving on. The only person they knew that they hadn't talked to yet was Davina.
The witch was standing by her drawing, talking to a young couple who stood close to it, examining the strokes of charcoal on the paper. It was a young man sitting on the edge of a dock, his feet dangling close to the water. Below the waves, a mermaid watched him as he stared off into the distance, unaware of her existence.
"Lovely work, Little Witch," Klaus said when he and Cami approached. "Have you ever tried working with oil paints? I could teach you a thing or two."
"I'd rather die," Davina said, her jaw set as she glowered at Klaus. Cami thought of the expression "If looks could kill"— if it were true, she was sure Klaus would be dead on the floor by now.
"Well, that can easily be arranged," he said with that crooked smile that made Cami weak in the knees. "But for now, I'd prefer to allow you to live until you prove to be a real threat to me."
"Just you wait," she said through gritted teeth.
Cami felt like she should stand in between them with a hand on each of their chests, like she was breaking apart a playground squabble between two middle school kids. She smiled awkwardly, trying to break the tension. "We really do mean it, though. This drawing is amazing. I can't imagine the amount of time you put into it; the detail is amazing," Cami said, offering up a hopeful smile.
"'We'?" Davina repeated. When they'd walked up, the witch had certainly noticed that Cami and he had been holding hands, but Cami supposed Davina had hoped it wasn't anything serious. But in referring to herself and Klaus as a "we," she had unintentionally alluded to just how serious she thought it was. Serious enough that she could subconsciously refer to them as a united entity with the same opinion as one another.
Cami felt Klaus's hand slip away from hers, a sudden cold emptiness against her palm. She turned to look at him but realized he had vanished. Quickly she scanned the room, hoping he'd just gone to get more wine or to talk to Elijah, but she couldn't see him at all.
Davina noticed this too, and took the opportunity to give Cami a piece of her mind. Cami was sure the girl would have done this anyway, regardless of whether Klaus was within earshot or not, but she probably felt safer doing it without him in sight at least. "Cami, what are you doing with him?"
"I know, I know," she said. The wine was hitting her a bit now, and her head felt a little fuzzy. "I know it doesn't make sense, trust me I've spent a lot of time trying to figure it out."
"No, Cami, you don't get it. I don't care how hot you think he is, or how he seems like he's good around you. The point is that he's not good around anybody else."
"I…I know," Cami admitted. It was something she'd been wrestling with since she first started to admit to herself that she might like Klaus. Yes, he was kinder and sweeter and caring around her, and she could see the redeemable qualities in him that he hid away from the rest of the world. But she could not reconcile that with all the evil acts he had committed. And that made it very difficult for her to understand how exactly she should be feeling about him, if she should feel any way about him at all. She stared at the floor. "I just couldn't stop it anymore," she said so quietly that she hoped Davina didn't hear.
"Stop what?"
"How I feel for him." With the wine fogging her judgment, lifting her filter, she allowed a thought she'd been long suppressing to come to the surface. That you can't help who you have feelings for. If you fall for someone who's good, then you're one of the lucky ones, but not everyone gets the chance. Good, evil, somewhere in between, it's all subjective. The important thing was that no matter how bad that person is to the outside world, they are good to you.
And Klaus was good to her, he treated her with respect, he listened to her when she called him out, he valued her opinion when he disregarded all others, even ones from his family. He trusted her. Seeing that now, putting it into words, she couldn't help but feel something for him. She had known she felt that way for a long time. But now, admitting it to Davina, this was the first time she truly realized how powerless she was to stop those feelings.
"I thought you were smarter than this," Davina said coolly. She was taunting Cami, daring her to walk away from Klaus, to see what a mistake this had been in coming tonight with him.
"I thought I was too. I guess we were both wrong," Cami said.
She stepped away from the girl and her drawing, beginning to head back to the table for more wine when she was intercepted by Klaus. "Sorry for the hasty exit," he said. "I'm sure you understand."
"Understand that she hates you because you killed her first love? Yeah, I get that," Cami said testily. She was starting to get angry, although at whom she should direct her anger, she had yet to decide: Davina for calling her out, Klaus for ditching her, or herself for finally admitting that she liked him.
"Oh come on," he said, a bemused expression on his face. "She's a child! She will have plenty of loves. And I was really doing her a favor by killing Tim, he was just okay. She could do better. She seems to think my brother Kol had been a step up. Notice how the boy in the drawing looks strikingly similar to him, and the mermaid looks quite a bit like her. Rudimentary and lacking subtlety, but at least it's obvious."
Cami slapped his shoulder like she might have smacked away a child's hand as it crept under the lid of the cookie jar. "You will not mock her or her art. Davina's feelings are valid, and she has the right to express them however she chooses. I happen to find her drawing quite beautiful," Cami said.
Klaus's eyebrow was still raised in surprise from when she'd hit him. He raised his hands up in front of his chest in mock surrender. "Relax, relax. I think the girl is rather talented, especially when it comes to shading." When he leaned in closer to speak next to her ear, her whole body shivered at the touch of his breath on her skin. He said, barely louder than a whisper, "I just like to see you angry."
Stars floated across her vision and the room became hazy and unfocused, like she'd had seven glasses of wine to drink instead of two. Everything seemed detached and far away. Her skin was prickling in goosebumps. Every time he got that close to her, every time he said something suggestive like that, she felt as if she might faint.
It took her a minute to realize that he had moved away from where he'd been standing in front of her, and was walking towards a photograph hanging in a small alcove off to the side. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to go with him, but he looked behind himself and she took that as an indicator to follow him.
He was standing in front of the photo when she came up by his side. "Tell me what you think of this picture," he said.
"Well, I'm no art critic…" she began.
"You're smarter than you think, Camille. You don't have to be an expert to know a little about art. Tell me what you think of it. Please."
She stared at the picture, taking in every inch of its saturated colors. It seemed to be from the viewpoint of someone lying on their back, looking up at the night sky. Or more accurately, the early morning sky, when everything was that eerie, smokey grey that made everything feel silent and stifling and still. Encircling the borders of the sky was a grove of pine trees. The photographer must have been lying on their back in a clearing in the woods somewhere, probably the west coast.
Perhaps the most amazing aspect of the photo, though, was that the sky and the trees were illuminated by a neon bolt of lightning. The forks of the bolt broke the sky into dozens of little grey fragments. "It makes me think of the theme of the sublime," she said after studying the picture for a long time.
"Elaborate," Klaus said.
"In literature, the sublime was often used in gothic novels to instill both a sense of horror and amazement. It was something found in nature that was so rare and awe-inducing, it was almost supernatural. It was meant to put the fear of G-d into a character's heart, but also to inspire worship in them because, 'Hey look at this amazing and scary thing G-d just did!'
"With the lightning bolt, it brings up a conundrum. Should we fear what G-d, or whoever's in charge up there, puts out into the world because of its destructive power, or should we bow in awe before its beauty?"
Klaus didn't say anything or stop her, so she went on. "I wonder how the photographer feels, especially being on their back, being so vulnerable. Probably fear. That's how I would feel, at least." She bit her lip, concentrating hard for a minute. "On second thought, I'd feel awe, I think, because this…this is a once-in-a-lifetime shot, and if I were the photographer, I would feel so humble that I was able to capture it on film."
"It was what one would see as a once-in-a-lifetime shot," Klaus agreed, "but considering I've lived hundreds of lifetimes at this point, I'm sure more opportunities will come along. In fact, some already have."
"What are you talking about?" She knew the answer to this already, she just wanted to make sure she was understanding what he was saying.
"I took this picture," Klaus said. "Not far outside of Portland, about five years ago."
"I didn't know you did photography in addition to painting," she said. She glanced down at the placard accompanying the photo, noticing that the space beside "Artist:" was blank.
"I have many talents that I like to keep private," he said with a crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"You shouldn't keep this one to yourself," she said.
"I appreciate that sentiment."
"Why didn't you put your name on this? Don't you want people to know it's your work?"
"I wanted to remain anonymous so that I might hear people's honest opinions of my work without having their judgment clouded by their personal grievances against me," he said.
Her eyes turned back to the picture as she studied it harder. She had always loved that grey that was so hard to describe, the type that hung across the sky on a dreary winter night like a blanket of smoke that had been laid across the heavens. It made her think of staying in bed all day, curled up with a mug of tea and a good book. It made her imagine him being there with her, his legs tangled with hers, playing footsie while she tried to read.
Cami felt the sensation of lightheadedness that she'd had before, and noticed it was because Klaus was leaning in close to her ear once again. "I really do have more photos," he said, his voice low. "I want you to see them sometime."
Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of it. He wanted to keep his other photos private from others and yet he wanted to share them with her? Did that mean he thought she was special, that maybe he trusted her? The colors of the picture started to float before her eyes and she felt like she might really pass out this time. Her knees wobbled and she thought, Oh G-d, this is it, I'm really going to swoon for Klaus Mikaelson.
She focused on breathing deeply and evenly, and eventually felt steadier on her feet. Her vision became sharper so that she could pay attention again, and noticed that he was expecting an answer to his invitation for her to see his photos. "Yes," she said. "Yes, I'd love that. More than anything."
The corners of his mouth twitched up for half a second into a small smile. If Cami hadn't been so focused on him, still trying to keep her balance, she would have missed it. She struggled to suppress the intense urge to kiss him; the way he looked so proud of his work, how excited he was to show her, it was almost impossible to stop herself from grabbing his face and pulling him to her.
And then he was asking her something, he expression expectant. And she had totally not been listening, she had been staring at his lips the whole time. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I said do you want to get out of here?" he said.
"Oh." It took her a second to gather her thoughts and really take in what he'd just said. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Where did you have in mind?"
"You'll see," he said, with that devilish smile she hated so much. He took her hand and they left the alcove, reemerging into the main atrium of the gallery. They didn't say goodbye to anyone, just left and walked out into the cool night air. The street was coming alive with people going to bars and clubs, or just conversing with people they'd bumped into on the way out. Their chatter filled the air, giving it an electric buzz of livelihood. Jazz musicians playing all types of instruments, solo or in groups, played on each street corner, collecting spare change and dollar bills in their upturned hats or instrument cases. She loved this city so much, she loved how even on her darkest days, she could go outside and find the inspiration to keep going. Because there was always beautiful art to see, or new music to hear, or if all else failed, new bars with new drinks to drink.
After a few blocks of walking, Klaus turned abruptly down an alley, dragging her with him. "Is this the part where you murder me in a gruesome and sadistic manner?" she said, only half joking.
"If I'd wanted you dead, I assure you that your heart would have stopped beating a long time ago."
She wasn't sure how to interpret this. In spite of herself, she felt flattered that he'd said that, because he wanted so many people dead, and she considered herself lucky that she wasn't among them. And then she felt embarrassed that she had normalized his behavior enough that she felt thankful he hadn't murdered her. Worst of all, perhaps, she could not stop herself from thinking that her heart did stop beating, every time he looked at her.
Inside the alley was a small outdoor seating area populated with people laughing and drinking. Klaus led her inside the brick building just past the tables, and they stepped inside what seemed like a dark dive bar. Over in the corner, someone in a plaid shirt and cowboy hat had the karaoke mic and was signing a country song very poorly.
Cami laughed and covered her ears against the offensive sound. "What is this place?"
"One of my favorite bars, besides yours, of course," he covered quickly. "It's called Gutterhound. Famous for their large boot-shaped beverage containers."
He went up to the bar and greeted the bartender like an old friend. "Edward, this is my…this is Cami," he said, gesturing to her.
Edward the bartender shook her hand. "What can I get you? Anything you want, on the house."
Klaus looked at her expectantly, but she didn't know what to say. "Two boots, please," he said after a prolonged silence. A minute later, Edward procured two giant boot-shaped glasses, filling them with an obscene amount of liquor and then adding some combination of flavored purple syrup, and soda. A tiny umbrella and a straw in each, and Edward pushed the glasses towards them.
Cautiously, Cami took her first sip. "Sweet Jesus," she said, grimacing. "Whatever you do, do not let me drink this whole thing. Or we'll have a repeat of Halloween 2011."
Klaus smiled, drinking his as if it wasn't eighty-five percent cheap vodka. "Oh? Do tell that story."
"Well, I had about seven shots of tequila within an hour, on minimal food and no water. I threw up in the street, I threw up all over my friend's bathroom, I threw up on my friend… Not pretty."
He laughed. "Yes, let's try to avoid a repeat of that incident. I'll keep an eye on you," he promised, "make sure you're drinking responsibly."
"Thanks, Mom," she said sarcastically. "I think I can handle myself, but just in case, it's not a bad idea to have a babysitter like you."
She attempted to take another sip of her drink, but it was so strong that she wasn't sure she could even take another drink, let alone drink enough to get her as bad as Halloween 2011. "What exactly is in here?"
"You don't want to know," he said. He was probably right.
The country yodeler had finished their turn on karaoke, and it seemed as if there might be an open slot. "You gonna go up there and show off your chops?" Cami asked teasingly.
"I have learned many skills over the years, but singing is one I could never get the hang of. Consider yourself lucky, I might make your ears bleed."
"So I've finally found something that Klaus Mikaelson isn't good at."
"Don't let my enemies know," he joked.
"Oh yeah, if any of them ever challenge us to go on American Idol, we're in real trouble."
"What about you? Why don't you get up there?"
"Well, I'll have you know that I was in choir in middle school, and I sang a song in the seventh grade talent show," she said proudly.
"I'm impressed. You could probably be a professional."
"It's pretty likely that I could be the next Beyoncé," she said with a laugh.
"Well then, by all means," Klaus said, gesturing towards the corner of the room with the microphone. Just then, someone else walked up and began to sing a pop song that had been popular in the early 2000s.
"Oh, bummer," Cami said. "Better to let this person have their moment to shine. I don't want to upstage anyone, make them look bad with my amazing talent."
"Perhaps if I fail at my babysitting duties and let you have too much of this drink, you'll grace us with this talent of yours."
"We'll see," she said, smiling. Was this flirting? She felt like it was. A blush rose in her cheeks, and she scrambled for a way to change the subject. "So I told you about the Halloween 2011 incident, now you have to share an embarrassing drunk story with me."
His eyes rolled upwards as if he were racking his brain really hard for the perfect story to tell. "In the 1780s, I was living in Paris. After a night of heavy drinking, I got into the wrong carriage by mistake. Instead of taking me home, I wound up in Vienna. Not only that, I wound up in Vienna onstage during a symphony performance. No idea how I got into the theater, let alone who let me on the stage. Someone had propped me up in the back with the percussion, and when I came to, I had just enough wits about me to hit the gong a couple times and hope for the best."
"Hm," she said, smiling in bemusement.
"And I fit right in, even though I had no idea what I was doing, because the conductor was one Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. And he had only finished that symphony the day before, so pretty much everyone in the orchestra was sight-reading this music for the second or third time ever, right on stage during the premier. So no one else had any idea what they were doing either."
"You mean to tell me that you accidentally wound up in a performance by Mozart?"
"I did indeed," he said, smiling too. "1785, that was a good year. At least, from what I can remember of it. There was a lot of wine-induced memory loss that year."
"So if I go up there right now," Cami said, gesturing back to the karaoke area, "you'd be able to provide some sick beats for me?"
He laughed; she loved the line that his neck made when he threw his head back in laughter. "Music in general was never my strongest suit. But when it comes to the lesser of two evils, I'd rather subject you to my abysmal percussion skills than my singing. Let us simply hope that I hold onto my sobriety well enough so that you will have to endure neither."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see where the evening takes us," she said with a smile. She noticed a hint of blush creep into his cheeks, and she felt her own cheeks go red at this. Get a grip on yourself, she thought.