Chapter Text
“I don’t even like musicals!” said Mary, growing increasingly irate by the moment. “I told you that!”
“What? When?” Stede had obviously messed this up somehow.
“Last week! When we were watching a fucking musical!”
It’s true they had shown The Sound of Music to the kids last week – an experience Stede had found immensely enjoyable. He definitely didn’t recall Mary saying anything negative about it. But, then again, he might not have been listening if he was too wrapped up in the music.
Stede frowned. “You don’t like them?” he repeated. He hadn’t really meant to say it as a question, but the idea of just not liking musicals seemed preposterous. There were so many different kinds! How could someone dislike them all?
“They’re just so unrealistic. I mean, nobody just bursts into song like that. It always takes me out of the story and just seems silly.”
Stede frowned down at the tickets to Les Miserables on the table between them, which were apparently the wrong choice for a twelfth anniversary present.
Mary was wrong. Some people did regularly burst into song, and one such person was Stede himself. Yes, he’d sing in the shower and harmonize with the radio like everyone else. But he’d also just sing about whatever he was doing, making up little songs about buttering toast and picking an outfit. Or, he used to, anyway. It was a habit that usually popped up when he was in a good mood. When he was happy.
Actually, he hadn’t burst into song in quite a while.
“Mary, I think we should get a divorce,” he said quietly.
She stared at him for a long moment. Then, she slowly rose from the table and walked over to the bar cart. She poured herself a glass of the finest brandy and tossed it back like a shot of cheap tequila. She poured herself another glass and turned back to Stede.
“If we are getting a divorce, it’s not going to be because I fucking hate musicals.”
Stede nervously twisted his wedding ring on his finger. Mary usually didn’t curse this much. And she usually didn’t look at him with such a cold expression. In fact, she rarely looked at him at all.
“What reason would you prefer?”
“It should be because I’m fucking my painting instructor and you’re obviously gay.”
“Ah.” Stede wished he had his own glass of brandy. “That is a better reason.”
-
Stede was driving. He’d gotten in the car after Mary’s pronouncement and left. He didn’t have a destination in mind besides the vague “away.” He had to get out of there.
Four bombshells at once was enough to shake any man.
I’m fucking my painting instructor. A doozy.
We’re getting a divorce. Ouch.
You’re obviously gay. Lot to unpack there.
And perhaps worst of all: I don’t even like musicals!
Somehow, despite everything, that seemed to be the crux of the matter. He and Mary had never quite matched up. What made Stede happy had only ever irritated Mary. And what made Mary happy remained a mystery to Stede. Perhaps it was this painting instructor.
Stede pulled into the nearest parking lot and rested his head on the steering wheel. He needed something, but he wasn’t sure what. Alcohol, maybe. Or a good long cry.
He looked up, trying to discern where he even was. He’d driven from their suburb into the city, though he was in an unfamiliar part of town. He was in the parking lot of a strip center sporting an accounting office, tattoo parlor, nail salon, cafe and a karaoke bar. They were all closed at this time of night – just past 10 pm. Well, except the karaoke bar on the corner.
Hm.
Stede found himself getting out of his vehicle. He walked to the door and checked the hours. It was open until midnight on weekdays and until 2 am on the weekend. He opened the door, causing the bell atop it to jingle merrily, and stepped into a little lobby with a desk and a couple couches.
“Got another late nighter,” said the young man at the desk. He was holding a cellphone to his ear with his shoulder while he painted his nails a pale pink. “Just a second, babe.”
Stede blinked and thought about leaving.
“Not you,” the man said to Stede. “Talking to my boyfriend. Seems a bit early for pet names in our relationship.” He gave him a once over. “Not that I mind a DILF.”
“Oi, Lucius!” A door opened down the long hall that stretched behind the desk and an absolutely gorgeous long-haired man stuck his head out as upbeat music drifted out towards Stede. “Can I get another beer?”
“Sure thing!”
The long-haired man glanced at Stede and seemed to do a double take, zeroing in on his expression. He turned back to Lucius with a grin. “Don’t scare the newbie, boy. Or Izzy will have your head.”
“Oh, Izzy dreams of having my head.”
The man snorted and ducked back into his room, the closing door shutting off the music as if it was never there.
Huh. Stede had never been to a karaoke bar with private rooms before.
“Don’t mind him,” Lucius said to Stede. “That’s just Ed. He’s a regular.” He blew on his nails and then hopped off his stool, setting his phone on the counter and reaching into a large fridge behind him. “Do you need anything? You’re wanting a room right?”
“Um…” Stede looked down at the signs on the counter, which listed beers, sodas, and snacks, along with their price. “Do you have any wine?”
“The finest that comes in a box. Want a glass?”
“Sure. How does getting a room work exactly?”
Lucius pointed above him to the sign Stede had been looking for that showed hourly rates for the different sized rooms available.
“Ah. Just a single for an hour then. Thank you.”
Lucius got his wine and passed the glass to Stede. Stede paid for the room and wine, and Lucius led him down the hall. He stopped at Ed’s door and knocked before opening it.
Stede caught a glimpse of Ed’s full body and he looked like he came straight from a biker bar with his leather pants and combat boots and tattoos up and down his arms. Ed was jumping around and belting out Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody.”
“I need a man who'll take the chance on a love that burns hot enough to last. So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls,” Ed sang, meeting Stede’s eyes and tossing him a wink as Lucius placed his beer on a low table. And then the door was closed and the music was cut off again.
Stede took a large sip of his wine and hoped that Lucius did not notice the blush warming his cheeks. The lad seemed the sort to comment on it.
“Here we are,” Lucius opened the door two past Ed’s and led Stede inside to a small room with a loveseat and a low table. The wall across from the sofa had a TV with a karaoke machine hooked up to it. Lucius walked him through how to use the machine, showing him the thick three-ring binder of songs to choose from, and then he left Stede to his own devices.
Stede flipped through the binder, hardly paying attention to the eclectic mix of top 40 hits from the last fifty years plus every Disney and musical song a person could desire.
He was thinking about Les Miserables and the tickets he left on the table. There were so many sad songs in the show – songs that if his voice cracked and he shed a few tears it would just add to the vibe. Like “I Dreamed a Dream,” “On My Own,” and “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables.” Truly passionate laments.
But to be honest, Stede didn’t want to cry anymore. He was a bit afraid that if he started, he wouldn’t stop and he didn’t want to waste the whole hour he paid for in tears.
So instead, he put on “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid .
“Look at this stuff. Isn’t it neat? Wouldn’t you think my collection’s complete? ”
Something about the song had always resonated with Stede. Something about having so many interesting things, but still longing for something else. A whole world, out of reach.
“Up where they walk, up where they run. Up where they stay all day in the sun. ” God, this song was fun to belt to, even if his voice did crack at the high parts (he was out of practice, after all). “ Wanderin' free, wish I could be part of that world. What would I give if I could live out of these waters? What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand…? ”
Though he was pretty sure Ariel had it backwards. Who wouldn’t want to live at sea?
-
Two weeks passed before Stede could return to the karaoke bar, and, oh, what an eventful two weeks they were.
He moved out of his house with Mary and into an apartment, quit his shit job at his father’s company, hired a lawyer, met Doug, and started seeing a therapist. He could not recall another time in his life of equal upheaval.
And he was exhausted. Physically – from moving. And emotionally – from, well, everything else.
And the last time he’d been here had felt so good, so freeing.
“Good evening. Lucius, was it?”
Lucius looked up from where he was reading a magazine. “Mmhm, and look at that. The DILF’s back. Thought we scared you off.”
“No, no. I had a lovely time. May I have a single room again? And a glass of the red?”
“Coming right up.” He got Stede his wine and led him down the hallway to a different room than last time. Ed’s room, if he was remembering correctly. “Here we are. You remember how to work everything, yeah? Cool. Just holler if you need anything.” And then he was gone and Stede was once again left to his own devices.
He flipped through the book some, but truly he knew exactly what would put some pep in his step.
ABBA.
He sang through “Waterloo” and then started up “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!.”
“Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight. Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away? ” he sang, dancing around the room. “Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight. Take me through the darkness to the break of the – Oh!” Someone was entering his room. Not just someone. Ed!
“Oh, fuck. Sorry, mate. Is that ABBA? Love me some ABBA.”
“Ed! What are you doing here?!” Stede asked, suddenly worried about how ridiculous he must have looked when Ed walked in. There was a reason he paid to sing in private after all. He tried to fix his hair as subtly as possible.
Ed cocked his head. “Lucius was away from the desk, probably canoodling with Pete in the backroom, so I figured I’d just head into my usual room and he could charge me on my way out. But, hang on, how do you know my name? We met before?”
Stede’s face was much too warm and likely getting redder by the second. “Oh, well, when I was here last time, I heard Lucius call you Ed. Unless I’m mistaken?”
“Nope. Edward Teach, born on a beach. That’s me.” He was still staring at Stede as if trying to place him. Then, he snapped his fingers. “Oh! The DILF! I remember you.”
“I’d really prefer a different moniker.”
Ed laughed and raised his hands. “Lucius’s word, not mine. Could replace it with your name if…?”
“If? Oh! Stede. Stede Bonnet.” He extended his hand and Ed took it, giving it a hearty shake. His palm was warm and the tattoos on his arms seemed even more prominent. Stede found his gaze traveling up the snake on Ed’s arm before realizing he was both staring AND still shaking Ed’s hand. He released it with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting around the room as the song instrumentals ended, the last lyrics fading from the screen.
“Stede Bonnet,” Ed repeated. He was looking at Stede with a strange focus, like he was in no hurry to look at anything else.
Stede swallowed, not used to being scrutinized. “I, um, better get back to it.” He gestured weakly to the tv.
“Right. Enjoy ABBA.” He smiled. “See you later, Stede Bonnet.”
He left and Stede sat down hard on the little loveseat, feeling like he’d sprinted there.
It took him a full minute and two gulps of wine to feel normal again. He picked up the remote for the karaoke machine and started up “Why Did It Have To Be Me.”
“... I was so lonesome, I was blue. I couldn't help it, it had to be you and I …”