He sat at the mahogany bar, swirling his finger around in a spillage of whisky, other hand propping up his head as he tried to feign interest in the story which the drunk next to him was trying to tell. His thick near-black hair was falling in front of his dark eyes, and his dark blue tie had been pulled down languidly, top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned to show a strong collar bone. He was kinda lanky, but not ugly nor scrawny, just slightly too tall, and slightly too skinny to be proportionate, but he was the first person to laugh off any criticism about his physique. His friend had left him under the intention of 'getting lucky' with a scatty bimbo he had met not an hour and a half ago, leaving him to sink into boredom, watching as girls he deemed 'far to good for him' sailed past, smiling and laughing in contrast to his utter misery. He wasn't depressed, just feeling very sorry for himself, and he knew it. Pushing himself away from the bar, he stood up on the cranberry carpet, and fished a couple of gil notes from his black jacket, dropping one of them, waiting for it to sail gently to the floor before he picked it up. The smiled at the bartender before pocketing his change, and he downed the dregs of his glass, after which he made a beeline for the door, only stopping when the lights dimmed and the people in the bar suddenly silenced. He was a curious sort, and so the moment that he noticed a change, he immediately wanted to know what was going on. He rubbed a hand over his chin, as he was wont to do when he was intrigued by something, and he traced his scant beard along his jawbone. Walking forward slightly, not paying attention to his surroundings, he knocked into a bar stool, which he absently perched on, eyes trained ahead at the pianist who had just sat down at his instrument.
A spotlight was aimed at the far end of the room, illuminating a circle on the tall red drapes which obscured the stage behind them from sight. The man behind the piano cracked his knuckles outwards before running his fingers gently up the keys. After whispering something to himself, nodding his head in time of the beat, he finally pushed one of the ivory keys, a low sound coming from within the cherry brown instrument. The small group of people, predominantly men, cheered and hollered as a velvety, sultry voice streamed through the curtains.
"I waited 'til I saw the sun,
Don't know why I didn't come..."
A long, tan leg suddenly slipped between the two curtains, a burgundy stiletto perched delicately on the mahogany stage. As the curtains began to open with a soft purring, a blonde head was unveiled, and she tossed a corn on the cob fringe out of her wine coloured eyes. She walked towards the end of the stage with a swing of her hips, long red dress swaying with her movement, thighs exposed by the slits up the sides of her dress, sending the male populace of the bar into a little frenzy. The strapless dress was edged with gold material along the top and bottom, the same colour as the gloves which ran all the way up to her elbows, and it shimmered ever so softly under the bright light which was set on her.
"I left you by the house of fun,
I don't know why I didn't come,
I don't know why I didn't come..."
He glanced up at the stage, and took a double take when he set eyes on the beautiful woman from whom the voice was coming. His eyes opened wide, mouth dropped in surprise and, in a moment, when he had managed to gather his thoughts, he sighed in disapproval.
"When I saw the break of day,
I wished that I could fly away,
Instead of kneeling in the sand,
Catching teardrops in my hand..."
He walked slowly towards the stage, weaving his way through stools and tables until he reached an empty seat towards the front of the crowd. Running a hand through his floppy brown hair, he bit his lip and watched her float around the stage, seemingly lighter than the air she breathed. Suddenly, she cried into the little black microphone with a singing voice which sounded more tragic and beautiful than any he had heard before.
"My heart is drenched in wine,
But you'll be on my mind,
Forever..."
She stood at the front of the stage and ran a hand up her gloved arm, tracing her bare shoulder with an outstretched index finger, drawing a line up her body until she reached her mouth, which she smiled gently with. She toyed with a golden choker around her neck, wrapping her finger around the lengths of chain which hung down from the necklace, diamante jewels glinting in the garish yellow light.
"Out across the endless sea
I would die in ecstasy
But I'll be a bag of bones
Driving down the road along..."
She cast her dark eyes downwards and, on the way, she caught his own, and her smile faded briefly, and her face was the picture of surprise. The pianist looked slightly worried as she missed the musical queue, but he improvised with a well placed harmony, leaving her to pick up the lyrics from where she left them. She took a breath of air before continuing with the song, and she turned to the rest of the crowd, fake smile rejuvenated. She clutched one hand to her heart as she crooned softly once more:
"My heart is drenched in wine,
But you'll be on my mind,
Forever..."
She backed further onto the stage as she finished her song, and as the pianist stopped fingering the keys, she gave a low bow, before the curtains fell back into place in front of her. She could still hear the noise and the murmurs from the bar, but his face was all she could think of, and the sadness she had see in his humble, kind eyes. She gave a small moan as she kneeled down and picked up the crumpled dollar bills which littered the stage, gently smoothing them down between two fingers, pilling them on top of each other and making rolls of tens. When she had completed this little ritual of hers, she unfastened the expensive, excruciatingly heavy earrings from her ears, and set down the microphone, lying on the floor with her legs akimbo, not quite trusting herself to maintain an upright position, her limbs limp from shock. After taking a few breaths, she willed herself up, fists clenched, and she walked back to her dressing room to collect her thoughts. After pushing her way through the crowded corridor, she arrived at her door, and she gave it a frustrated kick as it opened, stiff from damp where the wood had swollen. Eventually, the stubborn door opened, and she stormed inside to sit down on the stool she had in front of her dressing table, which was littered with cards, bottles and various items of expensive looking jewelry. She ran her shaking hands through her shoulder length hair and breathed deeply, eyes closed, trying to forget the face she didn't think she's ever see again.
He got up from his chair, picking up a handful of peanuts from the bowl in the centre of the table and emptying them into his mouth, brushing the salt from his hands. As the people began to leave their seats and head once more for the bar, he heard someone say to their friend:
"Damn man. Gotta wait a whole 'nother hour till she comes on again. I swear to you, one day I'm gonna have her.
He threw the man a dirty glare, which, to his absolute annoyance, was either completely ignored or simply unnoticed. The man just walked by, oblivious to the fact that the bearded man standing by the table to his right was wishing him dead. He shook his head and walked away from all of the leering men, headed towards the door he had spied during her show, an inconspicuous door which clearly led backstage, as no one but waitresses had gone through there all night. He slipped through the push door silently; stealth had always been one of his qualities. He found himself in long, brightly-lit corridor, busy and dense with people. A man with a suit walked past him and looked him up and down, clearly taking in his slack attire and mussed up hair. The stranger sighed and grabbed Reeve by the tie and pulled him to a wall, saying in a prim voice:
"For God's sakes, you're an employee here, so act like one."
He looked at the stranger quizzically before remembering himself and nodding his head vehemently and apologizing profusely. The real employee buttoned the white shirt up to the top hole, and he pushed the knot on the tie up to near strangling point. Lastly, the employee took a comb from out of his pocket and smoothed down the unfortunate man's hair, before standing back and admiring it.
"Perfect! Now, our little star wants a glass of red, chop chop!"
The employee then walked off, and the man was left to walk along the various doors and look for the one which looked like the dressing room of the woman he wished to find. A small woman brushed into him, nearly dropping her tray, but she managed to retain her balance, and he took the opportunity to snake his hand out a take a little glass of red wine from it. He carried on walking down the hall, smiling at all of the employees who walked by, until he met a door with a cardboard cut out of a star on it. He smiled slightly before pushing the door open and peering in.
"Hey there Ellie."
Elena opened her wine colored eyes to see the tall, dark haired man she hadn't seen in two years. He was leaning on the doorframe, arms folded, red wine swilling in a glass in his right hand, mahogany eyes trained gently upon her. He held out his hand to her and she stood up and took it, before she turned her face away from his and whispered softly:
"Hey Reeve."