12
Slade
Jack finally left shortly after two in the afternoon. I would have felt bad keeping him from whatever he had going on in his own life, but it had been his decision to relax on the couch and watch a movie while we chatted, getting to know one another a bit better. This whole situation was backward as fuck, but I wasn't feeling as hopeless as I had been, so I was going to ride the wave as long as I could. I rummaged through the clothes I'd taken the time to neatly fold on Jack's insistence, trying to find something suitable for a job interview.
You’re stalling, that's what you're doing, self-doubt scolded me.
I wound up pulling on the pair of pants I'd worn last night when I'd been trying to impress Jack. If I got a job at Club 83, I would likely have to add to my tab with Jack so I could get some clothes suitable for a real job. I showered as quickly as possible, knowing if I waited too long, Eli would have the opportunity to blow me off, saying he had to get the bar ready for tonight's rush.
No, he won't. It's like you didn't listen to a word he said when he cornered you the other night.Seriously, self-doubt could take a flying leap.
I didn't call Jordan to let him know I was stopping by. I didn't want him making a bigger deal of this than it was. Plain and simple, I was just a guy who needed a job, walking into a bar that needed employees. Nothing more, nothing less. I knew it was too late not to have him put in a good word for me. Hell, he'd probably done that the first time he realized I was struggling financially.
And you should be grateful you have friends willing to stick their necks out for you.
“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered aloud as I locked my front door. Okay, so I probably looked a bit crazy to the old guy walking down the hall to his apartment. “Sorry, not you.”
Old dude grunted, shook his head, and rolled his eyes as he passed me. That was probably the most interaction I'd had with any of my neighbors in months. This wasn't the type of place where you got to know one another and had impromptu dinner parties.
The bar was almost empty when I arrived. It was strange being here so early. I was used to music blaring from the high-end sound system Eli had installed when he opened the bar, and wall-to-wall people. It was a little eerie, honestly. The only noise was from Hank, the cook, prepping for the night, and a TV at the corner of the bar.
I sat down on one of the stools and started playing around on my phone. No one was behind the bar, and I figured Jordan was most likely in the stock room pulling bottles to make sure they didn't run out of anything during the rush. Knowing him, he was probably dreaming up whatever this weekend's wicked concoction would be. I envied my friend. He had both talent and the support of the entire staff. Even before he had gotten together with Eli and Doug, it was like this was Jordan's stage and everyone else who worked here played back up to him.
They’d do the same for you.
I knew that, if I was being honest. Apparently, two nights of sharing a bed with Jack had stripped me of the lies I used to shield myself from one day to the next. The tight-knit friendship of the employees at Club 83 was part of what held me back from applying sooner. Everyone knew everyone's business, and that didn't work well if you were trying to hide.
“Hey man, everything okay?” I glanced up and smiled when Jordan pushed through the swinging double doors.
“Eli around?” No sense procrastinating any longer. If Jordan and I got to talking, it would be far too easy for me to chat with him until customers started trickling in, then walk out without doing the one thing I came in to do.
“He's still upstairs,” Jordan told me. The corner of his mouth turned up in a shy smirk. “You finally ready to suck it up and talk to him about a job?”
“Not like I have much choice,” I scoffed. “I can probably make it another couple of months if I cut back on how much I’m eating, but after that, I’m screwed.”
Jordan rolled his eyes. “You can be such a stubborn asshole sometimes, you know that? I think you should have gotten a job months ago, based on the way you're looking.”
I smoothed a hand over my shirt. Sure, it hung looser than it used to, but it wasn't like I was all skin and bones.
“Screw you. You're just jealous because I'm still hotter than you,” I teased.
“It's the hair,” Jordan deadpanned. “No matter what, you'll always be hotter because you got that rocker vibe going on. Add in a bit of eyeliner, and there’s just no way to compete.”
Jordan set down the cases of beer he was carrying and slid onto the stool next to mine. “Seriously though, what made you change your mind? I’ve been telling you for how long to come down and talk to him?”
“Yeah, well maybe I’m sick of being miserable all the time. I know it's time to get a job, and at least Eli will probably be cool if I decide to do something with music again in the future.”
“You totally should,” Jordan remarked. “And Eli would definitely be cool with working around your schedule. Maybe this could be a good thing. You could talk to him about setting up on nights we don't have anybody else booked in. You get the exposure and he doesn’t have an empty stage. I bet he wouldn’t even charge you for it.”
“Let's not get ahead of ourselves,” I told him. “Right now, that's still a pretty bigif. I think it's for the best if I treat music like it's part of my past until I'm back on even footing.”
Holding onto pipe dreams was how I’d found myself in this position in the first place. Trying to find a job that wouldn’t make it impossible to play had helped me dig the hole even deeper. Putting music on the back burner seemed like the only sensible choice for the time being.
Jordan tipped his head to the side and stared at me. I squirmed under his silent assessment. When he shrugged, I wondered if he found what he was looking for. Then he let out a grunt, shook his head, and turned away.
“Just spit it out.” Jordan got like this sometimes. He wanted to be nosy, but when it came to me, he had always been careful about asking questions he might not want the answer to.
“I'm just wondering why the sudden change of heart,” Jordan said after a long pause. “Does it have anything to do with the car that's been parked out in front of your building the past two nights?”
