Journey

JOURNEY

This guy is throwing me off. It's been a while since someone caught my attention but as soon as he opened his mouth I was reminded why I stay far away from wanna-be rock stars now.

Growing up, my house was filled with music. It was filled with rock, classical and jazz. Really, anything that you could dance to, move to, and we enjoyed all of it. My parents were both music teachers, so they passed on all of their talent and love of it to me as well.

I swear it started from the time my mom was pregnant with me , because all I heard was beautiful melodies that would float through the air from morning until night. Music was never pushed upon me to do anything more than what I wanted to with it. I learned to play the piano as a young girl with mom as my teacher, and so it continued throughout school. We would sit, my legs swinging freely on the bench and read sheet music. I fell in love with everything about the melodies and began to train my voice as well. Lessons were long and hard, but I loved it so much that I planned to go to college to learn more. I didn't necessarily want to be a pop star touring around the world, but my love for music was too much to hide within the walls of my home.

My freshman year of college, I took an introduction to music class. I figured it was an easy A and would open me up to new people in the school who were music majors. The professor was fifteen years older than me, a former songwriter for a well known rock band and took an instant liking to me. And I, to him. He was attractive and knowledgeable. We bonded over our love for music but then got passionate over the same bands. Eighties rock is a favorite of mine so when I walked in one day to class and he was playing early Jon Bon Jovi, we had a great laugh together singing the notes at the top of our lungs. We began dating secretly because it would be frowned upon for a student and professor to be together. But after that first quarter class was up, I transferred out to a different class and we became more serious with our relationship.

Once he found out I could sing, he began to take me to bars where I could showcase my talent. He had musical connections there in Nashville and would get me on stage. He then began booking me for ‘raw talent' shows. It wasn't ever my end all to be front and center. Yes, the fame and money was an attractive clause, but I wasn't out looking to be paid for something I loved. Would it help? Of course. Who doesn't want a job they love and get paid for? However, I would much rather enjoy it with friends, or teach it to kids who have that same love.

And most of all, a boyfriend I could share it with.

With hindsight, I should have stayed far away from it all.

"Good evenin', ladies and gentlemen. Thank ya for coming out tonight. My name is Freddie Menotti and I'm here to introduce to ya my band, UNDER RHAPS. I hope y'all got your singin' voices ready because we're ready to bring you a good time!" Hearing him make his intro, I note his name and make my way back to the bar, where I wait for Butch to refill my orders. "Please, grab a drink from your beautiful waitress movin' around the floor. I didn't get her name so if anyone can let me know, I'd be forever grateful."

Oh, no he didn't .

I move behind the bar now to get away from the spotlight, but it's too late. The light from the stage finds me and I hear my local patrons call out my name.

I take note of each one that outed me and vow to make them pay double for their next drink.

I keep moving right, until I'm completely lost from the spotlight. That same low rumble of a laugh from moments earlier echoes through the bar over the microphone.

". Just … . What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman." He raises his beer to me and I smirk. The same beer I brought over for him as well as all his guys, instead of the wine he asked for.

A few customers whistle and cheer but most groan. "Okay, okay, no pickups tonight." Freddie laughs. "Are we ready to rock and roll?" The crowd cheers and the first opening notes of ‘ Don't Stop Me Now' fill the bar.

"Get ya drinks and get movin', girl." Butch is standing beside me. Technically I'm in his space, but I had to get away from the spotlight. Being put on the spot like that does not bode well for me.

"This the songwriter guy you like?" I angrily bark out and grab the beers he just handed over. The song they begin to play has me on edge. I've worked hard to not let music take me back to certain times of my life I'd rather forget, but sometimes it's impossible not to.

He chuckles. "Who said I liked him?"

I steady my tray, hating that I have to move around the bar right now and back onto the main floor. "You did. Your eyes got all twinkly when you mentioned him earlier."

", he's not him ." Butch speaks softly and my body gets hot. I feel the flush come over me.

I shared my story with Butch about six months after I arrived here. He got all the nitty gritty details right down to the promise I made to myself that I would never sing again. Not even in his bar. I'll sing for myself alone.

I take a deep breath. Butch is right. I can't hate the guy because he writes music, or even because he likes the same music that once took me down a road I shouldn't have gone. What I need now is a new memory to replace the old ones. But far away from anyone with musical ability.

"I know, Butch. I'm sorry. I'm just–"

" Just . I heard." He winks and has a smug grin spreading. I narrow my eyes at the old man who has an uncanny sense of people and I'll admit, he's making me a bit nervous right now.

"Stop looking at me like that. God, if that's the look these wanna-be-singers wait for, I'll let them know it's not all it's cracked up to be."

Butch barks out a laugh and flings the rag over his shoulder. "Get out from behind my bar and go serve ya' customers."

"I'm going, old man. Keep your pants on." I grab my tray with all the drinks and deliver them around to the tables waiting. I scan the crowd who are happily singing along with this cover band, and find myself humming along to the songs.

It's just a song, . Everyone sings it, everyone has a story. You're not different.