Singing Apathies

Chapter 2

How had I ended up here? Oh yeah, my sisters insistent nagging. She kept harping about how good a singer I was and how my voice was unusual and melodic. She said that whenever she heard me sing in my room or when I practiced in the garage. Singing was a hobby and an outlet and I had never thought much of it until my sophomore year of High School. It was then that I had been talked into joining a garage band. There were a lot of garage bands and everyone hoped to make it big, even the group I was with.

I didn’t care whether we made it big or not. I was just happy to sing and write. I was happy that I had an outlet other than my Live Journal. Those around me believed I could do more and had high hopes for me. My lyrics and poems were very popular and I had had a few published in our schools literature magazine as well as the school newspaper. Sure, I felt good about all of this but I didn’t have to have all of this attention. Having my lyrics and poems put to music was rewarding and interesting to hear.

My older sister has been working at the very place I found myself in tonight since she had given birth to my nephew Nickie. This place was called Orphen, which was spelled wrong on purpose. I often picked on this place for that very reason. It was cool now days to have the name of a place spelled incorrectly. As for my sister and her son, it was a long story.

The basics are, Mom raised us all on her own, met a man, married the said man and then the man began to physically, emotionally and mentally abuse us, us being my sisters and I. I’m the youngin’ in our family with two older sisters.

My oldest sister is in prison at the moment. She shot our stepfather for everything he had done to us and Mom. She goes up for parole in ten years. We’re hoping she gets released. We hate visiting and she hates when we visit and “act like someone died”. She doesn’t regret shooting George, our stepfather. She says her only regret was that her aim was off and he’s still alive. That’s Erin for ya’.

I try not to think about the George incident too much. Lizzie insisted I come down to Orphen tonight. She said some real scouts were gonna be here, and they were. And much to her amusement, I got a record deal with Chrysalis records. Wasn’t just me, the whole group. They were now hanging out in the club trying to pick up women. I wish them the best. They deserve a night of sex, booze and fun because soon we’ll be busy and I expect them to be in top condition when we start making our album.

I had no plans except to hang around until Lizzie got off from work and head home together but that was before I walked past that man behind the thick black curtain leading behind stage. He was handsome and muscular and his eyes were very intense and had a calm kind demeanor that his posturing and stoic behavior hid. He was tall, about 6’2 and African American. His hair had been cut close to his head and looked as though it were growing out already. His eyes were a mix between coal black and a deep earthy brown. The color or freshly turned soil. His lips were thick and inviting and left me wondering what they looked like when a smile was playing across them. He didn’t wear any fancy jewelry, nor did he have the gold teeth which I noted when he had absentmindedly chewed his lip when he was warming up, waiting his turn to be on stage. I wonder if he noticed my eyes on his well muscled back or when I blushed exiting the stage.

I had wasted no time in making saying my good byes to the Execs just so I could watch the final seconds of his performance. His voice was rough and raw with emotion and yet flowed with a rhythm all his own and unique to him and him alone. I wasn’t the only one who thought so. I waited with baited breath as he came to join the friend he had been with backstage, who was now sitting at a table with the same men who had watched every other performer that night including myself. They argued for a few minutes, voices rose momentarily and then lowered as quickly as they were raised.

Mr. Dean got up and left in a huff with Mr. Eric Winters behind him. I watched as the remaining men pulled out carefully folded papers and slapped them on the white clothed table. The biggest man at the table I knew by looks alone. He had been on the news many times. He was none other than Keon Bentley. Keon was the richest and most approached record label for new and upcoming rap artists. He had at one time been a rapper as well. Unfortunately a run in with the police a record breaking four times had ended his career as a rapper but gave him credit as a producer and made him more popular and now his record company BHY was now making millions.

I knew this because I was a fan. A fan of all types of music I listened to everything. Everything from rap, pop, rock and classical.

I watched as Keon pulled a gold pen from his lapel pocket and place it in the young mans left hand. So this young man who had infatuated me so much was left handed.

I watched him sign left handed and then slide the papers with the pen atop them back over to Keon. Keon smiled, stood up and shook hands with him. Then Keon and his small entourage left. That young man stood there for a few minutes talking with his friend before they both stood and hugged, clapping each other on the back before the friend left with the girl who had announced when it was time to go on wrapped around his waist.

I stood there watching him stare out across the room looking lost. I wanted to talk to him. I was aching to know him and he was just standing there. Looking lost.

“Ya’ know if you stare too long you’ll burn a hole into his back.”

I felt my cheeks burn and knew I had to be blood red. I was caught starring by my own sister.

“Are you afraid to go talk to him?”

“What am I supposed to say to him?”

“How about ‘Hi’?”

“Oh, yeah! That’ll work. I can see it now. “Hi, I’m gay and I think you’re hot. Wanna go out for a drink?” I don’t think so.”

“You know Lawson; there are black gays just like there a Latin gays and Asian gays.”

That was Lizzie for you. Plain and simple and always hit the nail on the head.

“I know that! I’m not stupid or narrow minded. I just don’t have guts.”

She starred at me, her green eyes twinkling in mischief. She fiddled with the ends of her strawberry blonde hair, twirling the ends of her tight pony tail that had at one point been directly atop the end of her head and was now migrating down slowly. She grinned; her freckled cheeks turned a light pink. She walked away before I could ask her what she was up to and in less than a minute returned with a shot glass filled with some clear liquid and a second one next to it.

“Here! Drink some courage and I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared from behind the bar and I watched her pony tail bob around the crowds of standing people who were now dancing to songs a DJ played. I saw where she was headed and I suddenly had a sinking feeling. I watched as she bent down in front of the man and she smiled brightly bobbing her head and leaning over as far as her waist would allow. I could see the glint of pale flesh in the distance and knew she was revealing as much cleavage as possible.

She talked to him for what seemed like forever and then bounded happily back behind the bar. I dreaded asking but I just had to know.

“What did you say?”

“Oh! I just told him he was awesome on stage and asked if he wanted anything to drink. He asked and I took his order and came back over here to make it.”

She was so frustrating. She was leaving out the details. She had learned something and was teasing me with not telling me her findings. My sister was what the gay community referred to as a “fag hag”. She also had what I called a “gaydar”. She had a knack for telling who was gay and who wasn’t. I was gay and she was better than me. I couldn’t tell unless they were loud and proud. Hell! She knew I was gay before I said anything. But then again, I am all emotions. That’s what my family says anyways.

I watched her make a drink and then slip it on the tray and then grinning widely she leaned over and ruffled my curls playfully before leaning over and placing a kiss on my forehead.

“Would you stop that, it’s bad enough that I have curls and freckles like the rest of the family but please don’t treat me like a kid.”

“The strawberry blonde curls are cute and in my opinion you are still a kid.”

“I’m twenty one!”

“Whatever you say Kiddy”, she said as she lifted the tray and walked over to his table again smiling.

I watched. I couldn’t help it. She set the tray down and handed him the drink. She then pointed towards me and said something that I wished I could hear. He smiled and lifted his drink smiling at me. I watched her walk away and quickly turned around to stare behind the bar. My sister didn’t say anything to me as she went behind the bar again. She ignored me and went to wait on the other customers at the bar and I sat there cursing her and wanting to know what she had told him.

I came close to yelling her name when a tall shadow was cast over me. A glass clunked on my left side and out of habit I turned to look and was greeted be a long muscular chest covered by a Raven’s jersey. I swallowed hard and followed that chest to a long muscular neck and then to a defined chin and high cheek bones and finally stopped when I saw those earthy eyes, those eyes that held so many emotions.

He grinned and leaned over to whisper into my ear over the loud music, “Thanks for the drink.”


TBC

Kat: I promise the sex is forthcoming~!

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