The Impersonator

1.

Hey Kristine!

*waves hand awkwardly*

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Kristine's POV:

A deafening round of applause was heard after the last strum of my guitar. I didn’t blink; afraid that maybe I’d collapse on the stage because of my extreme nervousness. I gasped for air, calming myself down. I scanned the crowd for a familiar face, my eyes having a damn hard time doing its function. Every bright spotlight is still focused on me, and it feels like I am under a microscope. I smiled at the blonde who is cheering at me, clapping from a table not so far away. I stood up from the stool I was sitting on. Holding my guitar with one hand, I bowed, then mouthing a silent thank-you to the audience.

I carefully stepped out of the platform. The whole place is still a mess, noisy even, but the loud thumping of my heart can be heard. I was beyond happy I did it-I sang the song well, my voice not squeaking at all.

 I walked a couple of meters more before I saw Avery comfortably drinking some iced tea in  a table near the bar’s exit. She literally jumped on me the moment her blue eyes laid on me. She hugged my figure tightly, which caught me off-guard. A light tap in the back was all it took for her to let me go.

"You are sensational, K!" she said in her usual high-pitched tone. She can beat opera singers in shattering wine glasses. "Your voice is angelic!" she widened her eyes, as if scolding me, while I was just in front of her, putting my guitar inside its cloth case.

"Thank you Avery", I smiled at her. That is the most I can do-express my gratitude to her. Well. She practically tells how good of a singer I am on a regular basis, for the past seven years. Old news for me. 

"Seriously, my jaw just fell on the floor when you hit that high note!" she said, with her overly, exaggerated hand gestures. I just ignored her. Not to be rude, but she had been praising me all this time like I am one of those famous Tony Award winners. I was about to tell her how annoyingly redundant her compliments are, when a voice boomed from behind of us.

"You did great Kristine", I faced him as soon as his words registered on my ears.

"Mr. Chase!" I addressed him. Mr. Chase is a fat man who wears those hideous square eyeglasses that occupy most of his chubby face. Along with a ridiculously looking bowtie, he wears a tight shirt that makes his big bump of a stomach evident. He got both his hands inside his pockets.

"I think you should sing here weekly, know that, kid?" his eyebrows quirked up. "We got a full house tonight eh?" he stated, one of his hands leaving his pockets to point to the whole room of men and women.

At the corner of my eyes, I saw Avery softly glaring at me. She elbowed me and it took all the self-control not to glare back at her. Mr. Chase's offer to me lingered too much longer in my mind. Tonight was not my first time singing in his bar, but the last time I did was probably two years ago, when I was fifteen years old. I want to say yes, and I can have my performance here weekly and I can earn a lot. I can save even just after a couple of weeks. 

As if on cue, reality hit me. I can't say yes. I heaved a sigh of hopelessness.

"I can't, Mr. Chase", words came out of my mouth as if bitter gourd had been placed on my tongue. "As much as I want to, I can't", I shrugged off my shoulders, giving the possibility up.

"That's okay Kristine", he nodded. He put his hands out of his pockets and I saw an envelope which he is handling to me now. "A deal is a deal." He handed me the brown envelop and I took it. "That's 250 dollars", he added.