Saturday Night, August 6th
"I can't believe we're going to karaoke," I tell Alice as we walk into the bar on 5th. "I'm not singing."
"Karaoke is not about singing," she says. "It's about drinking…and watching other people…drunk people sing."
The bar is dark and filling up as we make our way to a table in the corner. Someone takes our drink order and Alice and I begin to catch up.
"So, you're fucking him and you still don't know who he is or what he does?" she quips.
"I'm fucking him…and I know where he lives and that he's employed. Don't make it sound worse than it actually is. You've done just as much with less knowledge."
She laughs and takes a drink. "Well, that's true. But those were of the one-night-stand- variety. You've been bumping uglies with this man for almost two weeks."
I drink down a huge gulp of my bourbon and lean in dramatically and whisper, "There's nothing ugly about it."
We spend the next little while talking about other things and I'm happy that she's let my situation (whatever it is) with Edward go. I can barely understand it, myself. Much less try to explain to someone else.
I glance around the room and notice that there are several attractive women in the bar. Not that that's unusual, but a lot of them seem to be here on their own. I wonder if this is some hot-spot to pick up men. Not that that matters to me. My lobby works just fine, apparently.
The lights go down and the room is suddenly darker than it was before. Alice claps giddily beside me.
"Oooh…I think karaoke is starting."
"I think you're right," I tell her. "Although, I don't know if anyone is drunk enough yet to sing."
"Oh, I'm sure there will be a volunteer," she says. "The DJ is hot enough to make anyone want to sing. I'd sing for him."
I roll my eyes and laugh. "You'd sing for almost anyone, whore."
We order another drink and that's when it happens. I hear a voice on the sound system. Not just any voice – his voice.
"Welcome to karaoke, everyone." My heart stops as I hear him speak. "My name is Edward and I'll be here with you all night."
I turn around on the stool to see him standing there in the DJ's booth in the corner at the front of the bar.
This?
This is what he does?
Why wouldn't he tell me this?
His eyes scan the room and land directly on me.
"Bella," he breathes into the microphone, unintentionally, I'm sure.
And then, it's not just his eyes when the whole fucking bar turns to look at me, too.
.
.
.
A/N
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