Chapter 9

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With ten minutes to spare, I finally arrived at my destination. A sleek, modern building stood before me, adorned with a neon sign that spelled out "Next" in vibrant lights.

A club? This wasn't quite what I had expected, but I decided to keep an open mind. After all, I needed the experience.

I pushed open the silver glass door and stepped inside. The floor was covered in dark linoleum speckled with silvery sparkles that resembled a starry night sky. My jaw dropped as I gazed upward, transfixed by the sight of glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The light passing through the crystals created a kaleidoscope of rainbows dancing across the walls and floor. And this was just the foyer.

I couldn't help but wonder what the actual stage would look like.

"Miss Eden?" a voice called out from behind me. Startled, I turned around to find a young man with a shaved head dressed in black slacks, red suspenders, and a white button-down shirt.

"Yes, that's me," I replied, switching my resume from my right hand to my left and extending my hand for a handshake.

"I believe we spoke on the phone. You're even more stunning in person," he said, flashing a half-smile. I pressed my lips together, unsure of how to respond to compliments in general. He couldn't have been older than 25.

"Please, come this way. Get yourself set up on stage. You'll find everything you need up there," he gestured, holding the door open for me. As I walked through, I marvelled at the exquisite venue that unfolded before my eyes. LED lights lined the bar, with wine glasses dangling from above. Plush seating areas were adorned with sheer curtains cascading from ceiling to floor. The tiles on the floor boasted intricate gold filigree patterns, and scattered sparkles added a touch of enchantment. Eventually, my gaze settled upon the stage, bathed in the warm glow of a spotlight.

Taking careful steps to avoid tripping over anything—a unique talent of mine, tripping on flat surfaces, up steps, and even thin air—I ascended the stage and settled myself at the piano. With a light tap, I tested a few keys, savoring the familiar sensation beneath my fingertips.

"Okay, love, you can proceed whenever you're ready," Chris, the young man, called out, his elbows resting on the bar. Squinting, I noticed three other figures sitting alongside him.

I took a deep breath, considering the song I should perform, taking into account the venue and the boss. Once I made my decision, I closed my eyes and began playing the chords, my mind filled with thoughts of my family and memories of home that swirled and danced in my consciousness.


As I sang, I envisioned my mum and dad embracing me with open arms, welcoming me back home. Pouring every ounce of my being into the song, I sang with an intensity fuelled by desire. With each note, I gave it my all. And as I played the final chord, a solitary tear trickled down my cheek. Even if I didn't land the job, I knew I had given it my absolute best. With a swift motion, I wiped away the tear, hoping to avoid drawing too much attention. I didn't want to appear emotionally unstable.

"That was incredibly moving, sweetheart," Chris's voice echoed through the empty venue.
"Now, we know you can do ballads. Can we hear a cover of a more upbeat song? Anything from the past decade will suffice. We just need to see the versatility of your voice." Murmurs erupted at the tables near Chris, and I shifted in my seat, determined not to let nerves get the best of me.

I gave a brief nod and returned my fingers to the piano keys. Carefully, I pressed a few notes, searching for the right pitch before launching into the next song.

I reached for the guitar resting on the rack behind me, letting my fingers find their way along the strings, improvising. As I sang, the lyrics flowed effortlessly, not a single mistake marring the performance. In that moment, I transported myself back to my bedroom, where I played purely for the love of it, not for the sake of a job. When I strummed the final chord, the room erupted with deep clapping, and even a wolf whistle pierced through the air. Heat rushed to my cheeks, staining them with a rosy blush.

"That was utterly astounding, Miss Eden. Your talent is truly exceptional," Chris's voice resonated as he extended his hand, offering guidance off the stage. I hesitated for a moment, but eventually accepted his gesture, allowing his hand to rest on the middle of my back. His touch felt overly friendly, making me slightly uncomfortable. To create some distance, I subtly leaned forward, hoping to convey my boundaries.

"The boys and I were just discussing incorporating your second song into our live performance this Friday night. We'd love to rehearse with you this afternoon, if you're willing to spend a bit more time with us," his dark eyes, almost black, bore into mine. A sense of unease washed over me, but the prospect of a job outweighed my reservations.

For the next few hours, we immersed ourselves in practice, fine-tuning the sound and ensuring everything was just right. Frankie, the smallest member of the group, handled the technical side, working with the speakers and other equipment. Jackson, with his undeniable skill, commanded the electric drum kit as if he had years of experience under his belt. It was later revealed that Chris was the leader, managing the sound desk and handling the song mixing.

The boys explained that their sound had always relied on male vocals, but they felt something was missing, prompting them to put out an ad. As time passed, I began to feel like part of their family, with the exception of a lingering caution, a voice inside warning me to be careful.

It's simply because I've never been in such an intimate setting with so many males before. My parents would have never allowed it. It's just a matter of breaking free from years of conditioning and habits that I needed to unlearn.

Ultimately, I chose to let my rational mind guide me, giving them the benefit of the doubt. After all, I needed the money, and I wasn't about to turn to my parents for assistance.

 After all, I needed the money, and I wasn't about to turn to my parents for assistance

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