Okay, looks like the name is staying, thankyou for your help guys :)
I think I might do another double upload tonight, I'm feeling weirdly confident in my ability to do this without catching up to where I am, which is slightly unnerving because I don't think I have that ability.. Oh well, they're short anyways I guess :L
Starstar I always called Flo Rida "Florida" when I was younger haha, it took me until like last year to finally click . and I think you're pretty sharp Rosalia, although I suppose women's intuition might help sometimes, also I hope you intended the "oh HELL NO" to be as sassy as I read it (finger clicking and everything x))
Oh, and AllTimeLol, I think you'll find I can ;) muhahaha..
Also a bit concerned, well not concerned but I can't think of a better word so that'll have to do, about how long this fic is getting. I have a tendency to drag things out, which does usually have an effect on my writing. It can get a bit repetitive and dull when it goes on too long..
It's unlikely I'll round it off soon, but once I hit 100 chapters (which is possible with my writing o.O) I may call it quits..
Or not, I haven't decided yet *shrugs noncommittally*
Hope you're having a wonderful half term if you're off, if you're still at school then cheer up, it'll be the weekend before you know it :) ~nellen :3 xx
Clive grinned, taking a quick bow before jumping down from the small stage and heading towards the bar. He'd been singing for the best part of an hour now, and his throat was beginning to hurt.
He liked singing though, and he was definitely going to continue after a drink and a short break. Sal had loved having him back, and so did many of the customers, giving him a rousing round of applause after every song had finished.
He had already sussed them out, of course, he was scanning the room before he'd even begun, and had a decent enough idea of what would work that night. Folky, sort of dancey songs, with the occasional bit of slowed down rock in between. They were all acoustic covers, sure, but they worked, and people liked them. He was beginning to think about asking for requests when he noticed a man staring at him oddly across the bar.
Clive didn't really know what to do about this, he doubted the guy was coming on to him or anything like that (he liked to think he was a good judge of character, and in honesty, he probably was).
There was a sort of recognition in his eyes, and something else. A glint anger swirled through them, and then the man turned his attention back to his pint.
"Weird..." The boy frowned to himself, shrugging it off and practically skipping back to the stage. A few, slightly drunk, women cheered as he leapt back up, and he thanked the lighting for not displaying the redness of his cheeks.
"So uh, I was thinking of doing a few requests, if you guys have any," he smiled, eyes widening slightly as he was bombarded with them.
"I think I heard someone ask for Call Me Maybe. Really?" He laughed, rolling his eyes as a few girls cheered.
That was the thing he most liked about the pub, the atmosphere was so much more, well, alive. People did cheer, and clap, and ask for songs, instead of just chucking a few coins into a cap. Not that he didn't appreciate the money, of course, but until he started playing there or in the square outside, he got next to nothing, barely even hearing a muttered compliment from a hurrying passer by.
"Well, alright," his face cracked into that trademark grin, earning another handful of whoops from the gaggle of tipsy girls in the corner.
He was so busy singing, he stopped noticing the man giving him funny looks from the bar, or the girl slipping into a seat beside him.