Day 4: Supporting Silly Quirks/Hobbies

All Paul All Night Long

Sasha wasn't one for bars. They were cramped spaces with too many bodies pressing up against him. Sitting on a stool for drinks hardly appealed to him, particularly when he noticed the lack of cleanliness among the bartenders. One time, he had noticed his glass had come with a visible lipstick stain, a telling mark that someone hadn't done their job, and ever since, he had abstained from such locations.

But tonight was different. It was an evening of revelry. The bar wasn't as confined as he expected, and he appreciated the spacious nature of how evenly spread out the booths were. Sitting in one by the window, he also respected the atmosphere of the casual cityscape and evening passersby making their way downtown. And within the bar, it was a quiet affair of soft, dark blue mood lighting and rumbling chatter from other guests as they were served by folks wearing modest uniforms.

Sasha sighed into the rim of his drink. He knocked back his first sip of a cherry bourbon sour cocktail, a drink suggested by Milla. While a bit too much on the fruity side, the pleasant, tart tang soothed his dry throat. He fidgeted with a cherry stem, breathing in the cigarette smoke wafting from a nearby table, letting his thoughts stay at rest.

It didn't last long.

Morry's hand slammed on the table. Sasha simply looked at him, keeping his tension in check. A broad smirk stretched across his face, one accompanied by Milla's grin as she stood behind him. Sasha glanced at his fist. The silver glint of a key shone between his curled fingers.

"Oh, so, you were able to get the room," he stated, and he rose to his feet, squaring his shoulders.

"Damn right," Morry huffed. "The nerve of that twenty-something! Trying to say I was too old for a night on the town."

"Well, at least you reserved the room in advance. She was rather rude about our ages, but in the end, she gave you the key," Milla said, though her brows drew inward.

"I know, I know, you want me to put it behind me, but still, there was no need to bring 'em up!"

Sasha rolled his eyes, following them toward the private room. Glancing at the other guests, there seemed to be a variety of differently-aged people. He supposed whoever assisted them didn't want their presence in a private chamber typically reserved for the younger crowd.

"In any case," he offered, "you got what you wanted, and she won't bother you again."

Morry smirked as he rounded the corner. The dark walls were closer, reminding Sasha of his mind. The carpeting was monochromatic with uneven splashes of red. Morry counted the numbers on the doors that vibrated with muffled noise, when he suddenly brightened, stopping in front of the last door on the right. He shoved in the key, and the door clicked, pushing wide open for them.

"Perfect! It's exactly how I ordered it," Morry proclaimed, pocketing the key. He marched inside, hands on his hips. "Yep, just as I ordered. I might have to give this place five stars even with their awful customer service."

While the room contained the same, deep blue lighting, the arrangement was like a living room. A leather couch was smack dab in the center, matching the deep brown shag rug. In front of it was a coffee table with clean glasses. Bottles of champagne were just waiting to be taken from the cooler. With pleasantly cool air conditioning circulating in the room as Milla shut the door, Sasha decided Morry was right. This room alone was worth five stars.

Though, when he spotted the karaoke machine, second thoughts surged forth. Morry was already punching in songs on a tablet, and the flatscreen monitor showed his choices. He mumbled to himself, typing and deleting the names of semi-popular boy bands before deciding on a familiar tune heard at the Rhombus of Ruin.

"Drag Me Down?" Sasha muttered, sitting.

He snorted, lip curling. Grabbing the microphone from the stand while the monitor loaded the song, he barked, "Ya got a problem with it? Not like you know any music that has lyrics."

"Of course, I do. I just prefer the classics."

"Well, the classics got nothing on All Paul!"

"Woo-hoo! Hit it, Morry!" Milla cried, reclining next to Sasha. She grabbed one of the bottles and poured herself a tall glass of sparkling champagne cider. She raised her glass to Sasha, wiggling it expectantly.

With a hint of a smirk, Sasha tapped their glasses together. He took a long swig of his cocktail and nibbled on the cherry. As the song finally loaded, the speakers situated throughout the room pounded with the clean, smooth bass. Sasha rubbed his ear, the verbose volume somewhat expected, and he decided to keep his complaints to himself.

Morry was already rocking his hips. He shimmied and jumped in place. He didn't need the lyrics reminding him as he belted out the notes with the practiced ease of a professional. His tone was completely off if Sasha was frank, but Morry's positivity spread in his song. He infused every bit of himself in the generically written music, verses that would have sounded poignantly impressionable to a preteen girl or one Morceau Oleander.

The corners of his lips raised. He drank to Morry's performance, slowly rocking his head to the beat. And out of the corner of his eye, he saw Milla smiling at him.

"He's really happy you came with us tonight," she whispered, Morry spinning in place.

He returned her grin. "Karaoke might not be for me, but I'm glad he feels that way."

"Big finish!" Morry screamed, and he uttered an off-pitch, keening high note that could have cracked their glasses.

Milla's mouth dropped. Sasha quickly chugged his drink. He almost choked on a cherry but swallowed it in one gulp, including the stem. They offered quiet, gentle applause when Morry pivoted to them, catching his breath, sweat on his brow.

He thrust the microphone to Sasha. "You're up, Nein!"

Sasha stared, cross-eyed. "Me? Oh, I couldn't-"

Gasping, Milla took his shoulders and pulled him upright with her. "Yes, you, darling! Pick something groovy!"

"Well, I-"

"C'mon, Sasha, I can't do all the singing tonight!" Morry shouted, barking out a laugh. "Here, I'll put in another All Paul classic! Heart Beat Too Sweet is perfect for you!"

Although Sasha was squirming inside, his singing voice certainly not the best, he still found himself standing with the microphone in hand. As the song loaded, visuals of All Paul in their mermaid outfits decorating the sides of the screen, he looked over his shoulder. Milla and Morry beamed at him, the latter raising his champagne glass in utmost approval.

With a sigh, Sasha should've predicted the outcome. But as the song played, and he droned out the positively melodramatic lyrics to the cheers of his friends, he reasoned the pleasant tingling in his chest overshadowed his initial embarrassment.

"Swing those hips, baby! Shake it!" Milla cried, and Morry whistled between his fingers, leaving Sasha burning redder than a tomato by the time the song ended.