Wall-to-wall men, all of them facing toward the bar, were singing at the top of their lungs.
Les Misérables.
They were singingLes Misérables.
At a sports bar.
At 10 p.m. on a Saturday night.
Standing on a bar stool—actually standing on it—was a guy with neon pink hair holding a bottle of vodka like a conductor’s baton while leading theentire bar in the song with the enthusiasm of someone conducting the New York Philharmonic.
The crowd was into it—like seriously into it. No one was even watching the hockey game playing on every television in the city.
Every single person was singing. Some had their arms around each other. About half were swaying in time with the music. One guy was crying.
The pink-haired conductor was flailing the vodka bottle with dramatic flair, occasionally taking a swig mid-verse.
I stood in the doorway trying to process what I was witnessing.
This was a gay bar, sure, but it was a gaysportsbar.
And everyone was singing musical theater.
The pink-haired guy spotted me, grinned, and pointed the vodka bottle in my direction without missing a beat of the conducting.
The song ended.
The bar erupted in cheers and applause.
Someone was whistling.
The crying guy was being hugged by his friends.
The pink-haired conductor took a theatrical bow and hopped off the bar stool with the grace of a ninja who’d just killed all his enemies.
I finally spotted Finn behind the bar. He was making drinks with a bemused expression thatsuggested this was either normal or he’d given up trying to control his staff.
Our eyes met across the crowd.
He smiled and raised one hand.
I pushed through the crowd—“Excuse me, sorry, excuse me”—until I reached the bar.
“Hi,” I said, shouting to be heard over the noise.
“Hi,” Finn said back, still smiling. “You came.”
“I—yeah. I was in the neighborhood.”
“At 10 p.m.?”
“I live in this neighborhood, remember? Besides, I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you came to a bar that’s hosting a musical theater sing-along?”
I looked around, one brow raised. “Is that what that was?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Finn nodded toward the pink-haired guy who was now taking selfies with customers. “That’s Benji, our new bartender. He’s been here for six hours and has already started three trends, only one of them on TikTok.”
