Still empty.
There was a light smattering of applause as Jimmy moved to the microphone. He glanced behind him to nod at Dario, his new friend smiling and giving him a wink. Jimmy smiled anxiously back and began to sing.
Jimmy let his body sway to the rhythm, his eyes wandering over the audience. He never really looked at anyone in particular, letting his voice carry throughout the theater and losing himself in the music.
As the song began to draw to a close, he could feel someone looking at him, more potent than anyone else. It was a distinct sensation that made him shiver and all the little hairs stand up on the back of his neck.
Jimmy looked upward just as he finished, smiling brightly upon seeing that the private booth was now occupied by Boss Cold and Jules Price. His heart flipped when he realized that they were talking to each other, and Cold didn’t seem to be paying him any attention.
Gulping nervously, Jimmy nearly flubbed the opening for ‘Since I Don’t Have You.’ He sang it flawlessly though, the full swing of the band behind him, and had never felt so proud of himself. And yet, Cold was still talking to Jules.
Jimmy took a shaky breath as the lights on the stage dimmed, the only illumination now on Dario and himself. Dario’s fingers began to move once more, and Jimmy swore he was playing in time with the dull, anxious thumping of his own heart. If Dario was right, Cold had planned all of this for him; to get him on this stage, to perform.
Jimmy thought he had been doing a good job, but down in his soul he knew he could do better. He didn’t want to disappoint Cold, making up his mind to give this last song everything he had.
Jimmy began with a soft purr, the song speaking of demons and making a deal with the devil. Self-doubt and insecurity was keeping the narrator down, but there was a man who would help lift him up, for the price of his obedience.
Cold visibly shifted in his seat, finally glancing down at Jimmy. Their eyes met, and suddenly there was no one else in the theater. Jimmy could still hear the piano behind him, but everything else vanished. The theater was empty except for the two of them.
When he belted out the first line of the chorus, singing of selling his soul to the man in a three-piece suit, he grasped the microphone and pointed right up at Cold. He smiled slyly, continuing on in a soulful purr. Holding the final note of that line, Jimmy heard several cheers erupting prematurely from the audience. Dario held off for a beat so Jimmy could really show off his voice.
Cold had leaned farther forward, his hand clutching the railing in front of him, completely entranced.
Jimmy swept a hand through his hair, his voice dropping back down to a seductive drawl as he dove into the next verse. Behind him, another spotlight lit up, a violinist getting into position. Both of Cold’s hands were on the railing now, his icy eyes positively on fire as he looked down at Jimmy. His lips were parted in awe as if witnessing something divine, and that was all the confidence Jimmy needed to finish strong.
He sang passionately, his soul threatening to leave his body as his emotions made his voice louder and stronger than ever. The words declared the narrator property of the man in the three-piece suit, down on both knees for him as his holy servant. The violinist jumped in then, she and Dario playing a fantastic and intense crescendo as Jimmy continued to push himself to new heights.
Breathing deep to push out the raw power of his voice for the last part of the bridge, Jimmy sang more softly, joined only by the violin. He held the last note as long as he could, basking in the whistling and gasping bubbling up from the audience. But Jimmy didn’t hear any of them. It was only him and Cold still, the gangster totally spellbound by his voice. It didn’t seem like there was an inch of space between them despite Cold being in the balcony, and Jimmy would swear that he could smell Cold’s cologne and feel the sweet touch of his breath at his neck in that moment.
Dario’s piano came back in when Jimmy finally had to let the note he’d been holding go, guiding them back through the chorus one final time. Wrapping both of his hands around the microphone, Jimmy put all of his heart into the final few lines, whipping his head back and moving his body as he sang—all for Cold.
The audience erupted into a furious round of applause the moment Dario hit the final chord, Jimmy staring all around as he came back to reality. He looked quickly back to Cold, grinning like a fool. Cold was actually up on his feet applauding. His face was calm as always, but there was a twinkle in his eye as he smirked down at Jimmy.
The rest of the audience rose to their feet, prompting Jimmy to take a bow. He grinned stupidly, mostly up at Cold, as a warm sensation filled him from his scalp down to his toes when the gangster winked at him. Taking a few more bows, he practically floated off the stage to the sound of vigorous applause and fervent cheering. The band still had one more set to play, but Rowena met him the second he stepped off stage, squealing and hollering excitedly.
“Oh, my God! Absolutely fuckin’ panty-droppin’ shit! Good shit!”
Jimmy blushed all over, his senses tingling with adrenaline and the thrill of performing. “I did it, holy crap, I did it!”
“Fuck, yes!” Rowena cheered. “Let’s go get you a drink!”
One drink turned into several, and Jimmy was stunned by how many people came up to him to compliment him on his performance. He kept looking for Cold, but he hadn’t seen him since the last song ended. He’d disappeared, leaving Jimmy wanting of the man’s company more than ever.
Dario came to congratulate him too and stare longingly at Rowena while they shared a toast. The patrons began to dwindle as the club got ready for closing, the band packing up for the night as well. Jimmy was happily buzzed, his bow tie askew and his cheeks rosy.
Tonight had been fantastic.
The last of the staff were getting ready to leave and most of the lights had been turned off except the globes that lined the bottom of the stage and the neons of the bar. Dario had to tap out when Rowena started breaking out the shots, leaving Rowena and Jimmy by themselves.
“You think you can do that at least three times a week?” Rowena giggled. “Because holy shit, sweetie. I’ve never seen a fuckin’ standing ovation like that. Not like, ever.”
“I can try,” Jimmy giggled back. “I gotta ask your brother first to make sure it’s okay. Fuck! Your brother. It’s so not midnight. It’s like, three in the morning. Crap. Do you know where he is? Ohhhh, I still gotta get my mom’s stuff. Did he go back home?”
Rowena grinned like a cat, tapping away on her phone. She smirked, eyes flicking over a message before looking up at Jimmy. “Oh, he’s around,” she said innocently. “Just had some business to take care of... But he’s back.”
“Back? Where?”
Rowena cleared her throat dramatically, motioning toward the stage.
