Right Down The Line

2

Bee's POV:

"I'm so shocked none of your super fun coworkers wanted to join us tonight," I said flatly to Val as we scurried across the street.

"Yeah, right," she giggled. "Because karaoke definitely seems like their activity of choice," she added sarcastically. "I'm surprised you're not sick of it by now."

"Says you!" I scoffed. "You've never once performed," I whined with a pout.

"Fuck that," Val tousled her silky brown hair around a bit before we approached the beat-up door to the karaoke bar. "I just like making fun of people." She pulled open the door to usher us through to the bouncer.

Thursday night karaoke had become a tradition for Val and me. I thought of the idea almost immediately after I arrived back to Seattle after touring with Harry. I wanted to make more of an effort in my friendship with Val, create new memories, have fun like when we were in school together. I guess my thought was: I can't be sad at a karaoke bar. Who could be sad at a karaoke bar?

The answer to that, actually, was - most people at a karaoke bar are very, very sad. Whether they were getting over a breakup or trying to forget their soul-sucking day job, they were showing up, sad, to a place that would make them happier. And somehow it worked. Put enough sad people together, and they'll trauma bond over some drinks, sing along to a popular ballad, and before you know it, they're all smiles.

After greeting the bouncer with a nod - he knew us by now - Val and I approached the bar and took our seats on the old brown stools. I unzipped my black rain jacket, pulling it down my arms and tossing it onto the empty stool next to me. I glanced toward the bartender with a friendly smile and lifted a finger up for his attention, which is when I noticed he had already been reaching for the bottle of Buffalo Trace bourbon to pour my drink. He pointed at me from across the bar with a knowing smile and I gave him a thumb's up, folding my arms on the bar top and turning my attention back toward Val.

She had her delicate chin rested on the heel of her hand as she looked between the bartender and me with a smile on her face. "You two should just hook up already."

"We have," I said casually, picking a piece of lint off my black long sleeved top. I crossed one leg over the other, my gold polka dotted skirt settling on my calves while one of my low heeled boots found the nook under the bar to rest itself on.

"What?" Val looked to me with excitement in her bright blue eyes. "When? How was it?"

Just then, the bartender was approaching us with our drinks - Val's vodka soda and my bourbon on the rocks. His long brown hair was pulled back into a messy low bun, a couple strands hanging down by his face. His beard was perfectly trimmed, his big brown eyes making sure to find mine. "Here you go ladies, first one's on the house tonight."

I gave him a knowing smile, watching his cheeks tint in response. Val and I both thanked him in unison, and his eyes lingered on mine briefly before he was off to his next customer. As soon as he turned away, I dropped my smile and tipped my head back to swallow a mouthful of bourbon.

"Okay..." Val mumbled, "So it didn't go that great, I guess."

I placed the glass back down and took a moment with my eyes pinched shut to decide whether or not the burning in my throat was going to end my life. But it quickly passed and I opened my eyes, finding Val's humored ones.

"Last week. And not that great, no," I finally answered, glancing toward the bartender to make sure he was still occupied. "He just..." I made a sour face, and gestured with my hands moving in circles around one another. I shrugged. "I don't know. It just wasn't it," I conceded. "I tried though!" I raised my brows at Val. "I really did. I tried to be interested in the music he played, and the stories he told, and I tried so, so hard to have a god damn orgasm, but I just couldn't. It was..." I shook my head at her, "just so boring."