I pick my best pair of jeans and a sweater that fits me perfectly. I’m not a model with muscles to show off, but I don’t look too bad either.
I’m putting myself first, which might be my new mantra. I’ll have to print it and put it on the wall.
Stan isn’t happy to stay home, but I leave the TV on his favorite home improvement show, and he settles on the couch. By the time the door closes behind me, I’m sure he won’t remember I exist anymore.
When we get to The Academy, Milo is at the bar chatting to Levi. We take the stools on either side of Milo. Ellis gives him a quick kiss before Milo turns around to hug me.
“I’m glad you came. We missed you,” he says.
I’m not sure what to say, so I stick to, “I’m glad I came too.”
“Shall we order some food?” Milo asks. “Nothing with garlic for you.”
That’s a weird statement, so I ignore it. I’m not sure I can handle something heavy or flavorful right now anyway.
Levi, who left to serve another customer when we arrived, returns and takes our orders. Once he’s tapped it all on the screen, he grabs the cloth from his shoulder and starts wiping the bar in front of me.
“Wanna talk it out?” he asks, a smile appearing.
I laugh. “You’re not paid enough.”
“Tip jar is over there.” He points to the other side of the bar. Where the jar is filled halfway with bills and loose change.
I look around while he prepares our drinks, and that’s when I see the chalk sign.
Open mic night tonight
Special guest performance
“What’s that about?” I ask Levi.
He looks up at the sign and smiles. “Oh, it’s just something new we’re trying. You never know when you might find the next rock star. Wouldn’t it be great if they said they started here at The Academy?”
“Yeah.”
He places my drink in front of me. I stare at it for a moment before taking a sip. It’s sugary sweet with a hint of fruit and herbs. It’s a weird combination that somehow works.
I get lost in the drink until I hear the strumming of a guitar, a sequence of chords, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I turn around on my stool slowly, hoping I haven’t lost my mind.
“The first time I played for an audience, it was in a bar…not quite like this. Everything had seen better days, from the floor to the bartenders.” There’s laughter around the room, but my eyes are fixed on the man sitting on a stool strumming chords on an acoustic guitar and staring at me.
Mik.
“No one listened to a note of the music that took months to perfect, but it didn’t matter because I wasn’t playing for them. I was playing with the person who had my whole heart. The way he looked at me made me feel like I was a rock star, and let me tell you, being an actual rock star doesn’t come anywhere close to that feeling.”
My breath catches as my brain tries to keep up with what he’s saying as I see all of my friends, Kay, and the other members of Hall of Fame coming out of nowhere to fill the previously empty seats closer to the small stage.
“The song I’m going to play for you”—he lifts his eyes from the guitar to meet mine—“is a song I wrote for someone. I think you know who he is.” He winks at the audience, who laughs, before setting his eyes on me again. “I hope you agree it’s the perfect song to play today.”
My eyes mist as he sings the words he first sang to me so long ago, when we were two young men in love, hiding away in his parents’ pool house where we could openly love each other.
I’m powerless to move. A hand lands on my shoulder with a squeeze before it disappears along with the rest of the room.
Mik’s deep, mellow, emotion-filled voice wraps around me, caressing my soul and telling me how much he loves me.
I can’t tell when the song ends because, in my heart, it never does.
He places the guitar on the stand by the microphone and crosses the distance separating us.
