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“I’m going to do it!” Varian said in a hushed voice as he walked up to the bar.
“Aha.” Lance replied, absentmindedly polishing a glass.
“No, I mean it this time.”
“Just like you meant it all the other times, face it little buddy.” Lance said leaning over the counter and pointing to the corner of the room. “You’ve been staring at that raven haired beauty for the last three months, saying you would go over there, and so far, zilch, nothing, she comes in and sits there with a G&T and a book, listens to an act and then leaves. And you, you little buddy, you just stare.”
“I don’t stare.”
“You do. It’s borderline creepy.”
Varian glanced over his shoulder at the girl, no young woman, who had filled most of his thoughts for the last three months. She had the biggest green grey eyes that he had ever seen, and dark purple lipstick that came off when she bit her lip, which she did when she was in the middle of one of her Russian novels, Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky, heavy old books with dog eared pages. She always sat on her own, in the exact same spot, with the exact same drink, and every Saturday she ordered spinach dip with chips, and she would give a little smile as she dipped the chip in and lifted the steaming filling to her mouth. Her hair was black and cut into a sharp bob, but one strand of it she always had dyed a different colour, tonight it was blue.
“Yeah, but.. Lance, tonight I finished the song.”
“Oh yeah. The song. The song to make her fall in love with you… or file a restraining order.” Lance said rolling his eyes.
“No, Lance, don’t you get it? Tonight she’s going to see into my heart, we’re going to connect. I just know it.”
“If you say so buddy.” Lance put the glass down and reached over the bar to clasp Varian on the shoulder. “I’ll say one thing to you though, old Uncle Harry, God rest his soul, when he opened this bar, he opened it for people like you.”
“People like me?”
“Lonely werido kids who didn’t properly fit in anywhere else. Oh yes, old Harry is looking down on you tonight and he is wishing you luck my little buddy.”
“Thanks… I think. So, can I have the first slot?”
“Oh.” Lance said standing up straighter and looking down at the younger man. “You know that’s a coveted spot right?”
“I do, but she only ever stays for one song, so it has to be the first one, and it has to be tonight. “
“Why tonight?”
“Because I’ll freak out any other night.”
“And why do you think you won’t freak out tonight? What makes tonight any different?”
Varian looked down and sighed.
“Because tonight would have been my Mum’s birthday, and she always said I should become a song writer, and I feel… I feel like tonight...” He struggled and looked up at Lance unable to put into words what he was feeling.
Lance frowned a little.
“Alright little buddy.” Lance agreed. “Let me go and set up the mic.”
“Yes! Thank you! You won’t regret this.”
“I’m just hoping that you won’t regret this.” Lance muttered under his breath as he went over to where the old piano was stood on a little raised stage. He turned on the spotlight and tested the microphone. Around him his regulars continued to chat away happily, mostly faces he knew well, people who came in at the same time each week. Some several times, and others for just open mic night. Good people, and the kid, well, he was one of the best. A true jazz fan, a true artist, not that anybody knew because the kid usually only played after closing up, when he helped Lance sweep and mop the floors before sitting down at the piano and playing out his feelings in songs that came straight from mind to fingertips. If anybody could make it, it was him, but the city was expensive, and his Dad’s health was failing, with his mother already dead the Kid had grown into a man way to early.
Lance looked over at the girl, he didn’t know a thing about her, except that she was polite and tipped well. Unlike most of his regulars she shied away from any real conversation, her nose always in a book, who brought a book to a jazz bar anyway? Still, she didn’t bother anybody so why should it bothered him? He just hoped that this whole night wasn’t going to turn into a disaster. He hoped this girl was the embodiment of happiness that his little buddy so desperately needed in his life.
“One two, one two.” Lance said tapping the microphone. All eyes and chairs swivelled to him. “We have a new singer tonight, though I’m sure you will all recognise him, he’s one of our regulars. Please give it up for our man Varian.”
Varian walked thorough the crowd, his shoulder bunched up and eyes on the floor as he took his seat at the piano and lowered the microphone.
“Uh, hello. I um.. I wrote a song. It’s um…” He looked directly at the table in the far corner, he could barely make out the girl due to the dim light but he pointed to her.
“This, uh… this is for you…” He pointed to her.
Dim light or not her could see the girls mouth open in surprise as she looked around trying to see if he could mean anybody else.
“Yeah, you, girl with the blue stripe.” Varian said. “I um… we’ve both been coming here for a while and I think I know what kind of song’s you like best now, and I uh… I wrote you this one. I hope you like it.”
Varian took a deep breath, every particle of him was telling him to run. This girl was just way too cool for him, and he guessed a few years older than him as well. He closed his eyes, you can do this Varian he told himself, and when his fingers found the familiar keys he found he could.
“I go out most nights
Attracted by the lights
Listen to the jazz in Harry's bar
And I know it won't be long
Before they play that song
Do you know how wonderful you are?
It's a sentimental sound
Make me want to fool around
With somebody who is wishing on a star
I pull my hat down low
Go up and say hello
Do you know how wonderful you are?
Always struggled with the art of conversation
And they'll be those for whom this song has no appeal
But I know it works for me
And I'm sure you will agree
That It illustrates exactly how I feel
Things can happen fast
Some things are built to last
I've seen it all go down in Harry's bar
Though we've only just begun
This show will run and run
Do you know how wonderful you are?
I've always struggled with the art of conversation
And they'll be those for whom this song has no appeal
But I know it works for me
And I'm sure you will agree
That It illustrates exactly how I feel
Things can happen fast
Some things are built to last
I've seen it all go down in Harry's bar
Though we've only just begun
This show will run and run
Do you know how wonderful you are?
Do you know how wonderful you are?
Do you know how wonderful you are?”
He kept his head down throughout the song, he couldn’t look at her, couldn’t bare to see what her reaction might be. Had he got it all wrong? But as he sung the last words he had to make sure that she was still there. She was, sat straight backed and expressionless. He couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or horrified or, fingers crossed, impressed. For a moment there was complete silence, and then a soft clap coming from behind the bar, that turned into a roar as the other patrons came out of their revery. Varian lost sight of the girl as people stood up to clap. He craned his head trying to see over them. But when he finally saw through the crowd her seat was empty. He felt his hope drop away. She had left. He looked down at the black and white keys in front of him. How had he been so stupid? To try and impress a girl he’d never even spoken to with a song? As he moved to get up he glimpsed another hand reaching over to his, a feminine hand with purple nail varnish. He looked up into the face of the girl he’d been dreaming about as she took his hand in hers. He barely understood what was happening as he blindly followed her as she led him through the crowd and out into the snowy New York streets.
He stumbled back against the brick wall of the bar and stared up at her, her face was pale and luminescent under the harsh light of the neon bar sign. He gapped at her, he wasn’t good at conversation, but he knew he ought to say something. His words kept failing in his throat, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking as she raised an eyebrow at him. Then her hands wrapped in his shirt and he let out a gasp as he was pulled forwards. The gasp didn’t quite make it into the nights air though, because her lips were on his. He didn’t quite believe what was happening to him, but they were warm and slightly sticky from the lipstick, and there was the taste of something fruity on her tongue, and the floral notes of gin in her breath, and he knew he should be doing something, responding in some way, but his thoughts were slow, and by the time that they had worked that out she was pulling away.
“Cassandra.” She said.
He just stared down at her in shock.
“Uh what?”
“My name is Cassandra.” She chuckled, leaning into him slightly, as her fingers came up to tangle in his hair. “What took you so long?”