Cal Jackson's new life as a rockstar fails to account for one thing: the existence of the girl he loves.
*****
"What are you thinking about?" she asks.
"A song," I say. "A new song."
I stare at the ocean as I sing the song that I wrote, something th...
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Once I step into Gordon's bar, I settle myself at one of the tables. Cal is performing solo with his guitar. His eyes land on me as soon as I enter the place. A soft smile touches the corner of his lips, and I return his smile.
My eyes travel around the place. Indeed, this place is so much better than Wily Dragon. The atmosphere is warm and not that dark, with a touch of country style.
While I'm scanning the menu lying on the table to order a drink, someone joins me at the table. I'm surprised to find that it's Gordon.
"Pick any drink you want, Amelia. It's on me. You don't have to pay for this one."
I chuckle and order a soda with a splash of cranberry juice, feeling honored to be treated by the owner himself. I rest my chin on my fists, watching the people hanging out at the bar, who seems to enjoy Cal's performance.
"Is this place always packed during the day too?" I ask curiously, knowing that most bars are packed at night.
"Not as crowded as these days," Gordon says matter of factly, tilting his head toward Cal. "It's because of him. He's dragged some loyal customers already."
My eyes land on Cal again, and I can't be more proud of him.
"And you know what?" Gordon continues. "The best thing about it is that every time they're about to leave this place, they would eventually wait for him to finish his performance, because they can't help but look forward to one thing."
I raise my eyebrows in question. "And what is that?"
Gordon smiles. "Cal sings mainstream songs, just like any other singers do when they entertain their client's customers, but he puts his own songs too in the list, and those are what my customers are most anticipating."
Gordon excuses himself to assist his staff behind the counter, and while I'm watching Cal singing on the stage, my heart is filled with joy. I'm so happy that more people can acknowledge his talent. Indeed, Cal's music is better without his toxic band.
When Cal takes a break after finishing one session, he approaches my table and sits next to me.
"Hey, pretty girl," he whispers, the sound of his voice when he talks to me always causing a tingling sensation on my skin. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. "I missed you."
I let out a soft chuckle, knowing that we've been seeing each other frequently these days, but strangely, his words didn't seem like a lie, because I missed him too.
"How was your exam?" he asks.
"Good. Pretty good." I grin. "I think I nailed it. Flying colors, here I come."
