The first appearance of *drum roll* Demon Dean. Celeste and her dad Crowley, returns. Feel free to review.
I couldn't take it anymore. Dean was massacring yet another song on his karaoke mission that seemed to have no end. I was sitting next to my dad in the Black Spur (a charming bar that was the perfect location for my dad to offer and make seemingly harmless deals). The décor was brown and therefore homely. Except for the nauseating smell of body odour and stale taste of beer that drifted through the air relentlessly. But that stage was increasingly becoming a huge problem.
My ears felt as if they were bleeding and Dean's obnoxious behaviour was causing the crowd to become rowdy. They started to slam their glasses on their round tables and some even started to throw red, plastic cups at him. I needed to do something before things got out of hand.
Standing up I heard my dad's voice hiss softly,
"Celeste. Where are you going?"
"To stop the noise. I don't know about you but I think the rest of the bar has had enough of endless hit wonder boy," I whispered back as my eyes flickered over to Dean, who was wiggling his hips (enough said).
"But I need to keep him happy. I agree his singing is insufferable, even worse than Hell, but still I need him on my side. So what Dean wants he gets," my dad explained with a glint of dare I say it fear in his eyes.
"Seriously are you a king or Jay Gatsby?" I said with a hint of annoyance.
"What has he got to do with it?" my dad asked with raised eyebrows.
"You know in the novella he doesn't want to cause trouble for anyone. Theme of protection it is all there. I study English Literature," I added on the end as an explanation to the potential business partners, who were with us and who were admiring me with bright eyes. "I'm sorry but the mike has to go."
"Wait. I am not paying for any damages you cause," my dad growled.
"Relax like I would do anything noticeable. Trust me," I spoke calmly as I headed to the stage then making subtle hand movements I made the lights go out.
When I turned them back on I had returned to my seat giggling at the gasps that went off in perfect synchronisation like a rehearsed choir.
"You haven't done anything," my dad pointed out but I merely smiled.
On stage Dean shook his head held the microphone to his wet lips and started to belt out eye of the Tiger. He abruptly stopped and looked at the microphone as if it had spontaneously died.
I made scissor signs to my dad using my second and middle finger. Hooray for having wolf jaws huh.
No wires meant no torture for us. A rousing cheer echoed around the bar. I was an unsung hero but to be honest after the hours being trapped in this stuffy room I couldn't care less. In fact I was pleased because I wouldn't want anyone to sing my praises, especially Dean.