Brewster sighed contently as the pleasant and peaceful guitar music filled his ears. K.K Slider continued to play the melody from where he sat on his bar seat.
"That's the tune, man. Wrote it thinking about this place. It's so cool you've carved out a peaceful corner to the world to yourself," the musician told the barista.
"Thank you...coo. It was always my pleasure to share it with you...during your shows…" Brewster smiled to his friend. Saturdays had always been a highlight for Brewster as it meant his friend would be coming to perform. K.K Slider was a man of few words, much like Brewster, but those few words would always be respectful and humble. It had stayed that way, despite his new notoriety as a popular musician.
K.K smiled at Brewster's kind words and took a sip to sample the last dregs of his coffee. Brewster had found him at the train station, singing for spare change and scraping bells to make a living. K.K knew that Brewster could see something special in him, and his performances at The Roost back in the museum had really catapulted his fame. Now K.K Slider was a household name and Brewster had his own cafe in the middle of town.
Truthfully, seeing a young man, suffering whilst trying to live off his passion had reminded Brewster of himself back in the city. Those dark days haunted him, and he wanted to save someone else from that same fate. Not only had he helped K.K Slider get his music into the mainstream listeners possession, K.K truly believed the kind-hearted barista had saved his life.
"Little slice of heaven," K.K mused looking around at the homely, wooden cafe, "I wish I could perform here again, but fame has its heavy tolls. I'd never disturb the peace you have here, dig?"
"Many fans, I take it? Coo…"
"You said it, Brew," the musician agreed. Brewster didn't care for nicknames, however, with K.K Slider, he always let it...slide.
"Too many to count. I am grateful to them because it's their passions that let me make a career out of my passion," he answered, "But it's both allowed and restricted my freedom. I can go where I want, when I want but I can never go peacefully."
Brewster silently listened whilst polishing the bar. K.K was staring into space, with melancholy eyes.
"Sometimes I reflect on the days when I was just an unknown peddler, selling my musical wares upon your stage," he sighed poetically. He turned to Brewster, "Those were my happiest times, dog."
It was true that Brewster missed his musical friend, just how he missed Blathers also.
"As much as I miss your performances...I find myself thankful that you can perform to the world instead of just me...coo," Brewster told K.K Slider, who let out a chuckle.
"You always had a way with words," he smiled as he played as few notes on his guitar, "I should get you to write a song one day."
Brewster returned to his cleaning.
"Did you hear the song I wrote about this place?"
The barista shook his head.
"My record company made the beat too cosmopolitan for my tastes, and no doubt yours. They tether down my music, instead of letting it rise to the sky. Let me play you the acoustic version."
K.K steadied his guitar on his lap and shot a meaningful smile to Brewster.
"It's called K.K Cafe."
K.K began to play, strumming every note perfectly and singing with true spirit. Brewster watched, awe-struck, as his friend played and sang. The cafe was empty apart from the two of them, yet it felt much more personal and full than it did before. The melody was calm, yet sweet, and full of calm tones. K.K sang perfectly, like every line was special, every word, every syllable. Brewster found himself caught in this most pristine moment as his friend sang a song which managed to capture all of his cafe dreams into one magical song. He found himself heartbroken when it came to an end.
"Heh, I worked hard on that one. The most important song I ever created," K.K Slider said with a sad smile, "It reflected you. Slow and steady, quiet dynamics, but kind undertones. Just like you, man."
Brewster looked at his friend.
"It was a beautiful song, my friend. Thank you for sharing it with me...coo."
"I wish I wrote it back when I performed here, weekly. Then you could hear it all the time and remember how much you mean to me," the musician replied, "I'd love to see you at Club Lol but if it's not your scene, it's not your scene. It's not really mine, either."
"I have been invited to go to one of your acoustic nights by a girl from the post office," Brewster said, to his friends surprise.
"You gonna drop in?"
"I am...undecided. However, if I get to listen to your music once more, I will be making an effort to appear, coo."
K.K Slider chuckled. No matter how many agents he had, how many marketing directors he met, Brewster would be his biggest inspiration and role model. He became successful at music for no other reason than to gain his pride.
"I can't tell you how happy that makes me," he admitted. The barista smiled.
"It makes me happy too, coo. I have missed your music on a Saturday night. Often I have contemplated buying one of your records but I know you don't like that."
"My music is my gift of freedom, to myself and the world. And no freedom should have a price tag."
"Yes, I remember your speech about the 'fat cats'."
K.K smiled and looked sadly at the time. He was due at the club for his nightly performance.
"I hope to see you there, my friend. Let me know when you have some time and drop by the club. I'll play you my music there, the two of us."
And with that, the musician left.