The dorm I share with my best friend is another gift. It’s our own space that’s always kept tidy and clean. Charlie is the best roommate, never questioning my random cleaning sprees as she helps keep our space sparkling. I think she knows dirty things bug me, but she doesn’t let it get to her.
I check my planner on the phone I purchased right after moving to Manhattan, and see that I have vocal classes next. It starts in twenty minutes, which gives me plenty of time to enjoy the scenery. Since my therapist is located on campus, I slow my pace as I stroll past students. The air is cold, biting into my jacket as the sun rises high into the sky, but it isn’t unpleasant. If anything, it reminds me that I made it.
Past the trauma and the darkness.All of it.
I’m stillhere.
The rest of the day passes like a dream, each sequence viewed through rose colored glasses as I finish up projects and listen to lectures. By the time my night shift at Varsity Vat rolls around, I’m beaming with an unnatural energy that’s been hard to get used to.
Even as I tie my black apron to my waist and fix my standard-issued shirt with the bar’s logo on it, nothing can dampen my mood.
“There she is!” Damion, the bar’s owner and ourmanager, opens his arms when I exit the bathroom. “Just the woman I was looking for!”
He’s a few inches taller than me with sweat-slickened dark hair that curls around his ears. He’s in his late thirties and always has a too-bright smile on his face. He’s far more sociable than Charlie, which is saying a lot.
That girl would talk to a brick wall if it could talk back.
“Hey,” I mumble as I step behind the bar that stretches along the back wall. The tables and booths that make up the center of the dining area are slowly filling up for the nighttime rush. On every wall, large flat screens show football, basketball, and hockey games in full swing. It’s a noisy atmosphere, but I like the busy work that comes with it. It makes the time pass quickly.
Damion has a few glasses propped on the bar as he cleans them. Stephanie, another server, has her back to the customers as she makes a mixed drink.
“I have a favor to ask, Rosalina,” my boss smirks.
The nicknames are probably my least favorite part of the job. Rose Bud, Rosy Rosy, a Pocket Full of Posies, and Rose Dog are the worst ones he’s come up with. Rosalina is when he’s trying to sweet-talk me into doing something I don’t want to do.
I sigh as I clock in at the kiosk. “What’s up?”
Damion slides me a few glasses, and muscle memory kicks in as I begin hanging them on the overhead racks. “The band for tonight quit on me at the last minute…”
My brows jump. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” He hisses exaggeratedly before giving me ridiculous puppy dog eyes. “Charles told me thatyouare a beast with a mic.”
Charles?
Oh, Charlie.
“Did she now?” I mutter. “It seemsCharleshas an abundance of information.”
Truthfully, this isn’t the first time Damion has tried toconvince me to sing for the bar. He tests my willingness at least once a month, hoping I’ll finally give in to the request.
“You know I don’t do well with crowds,” I say as I hang up the last glass. “Sorry, but maybe you should find someone else?”
My boss slaps his hands on the counter, causing me to jump. “How are you going to face your fears if you don’t perform in front of people? This is your opportunity!”
I place a hand on my hip as I give him a withering look. “You just want free entertainment.”
He points at me. “Iampaying you if you’re on the clock. Please, Rosalina!”
“What’s he begging you for?” Charlie asks as she rounds the counter and clocks into the kiosk.
I give her a pointed stare that I know she can feel. “To cover entertainment for tonight. His best friend,Charles, told him I’m a beast with a mic.”
She pauses in entering her code, her eyes flickering to me. “Never heard of him…”
“Mhm,” I hum as I bump her hip.
She throws her hands up, then slaps them down on the kiosk. “He’s right, you know? Your voice instructor said you need to practice with large crowds. At least this is better than his idea of performing in Central Park!”
