‘When you’re gonna hire me,’ she repeats, laughing. “You sound so formal! Alright, Mr. Business, how about this: I live right around the corner. Let’s go back to my place and run through a few songs. And yes, I’ve got a guitar. You’ll just have to tune it.”
Before I can answer, she tosses some cash on the table and pulls me out the exit door.
We arrive at a three-floor walk-up, which I assume is where Mel lives. As we head to the second floor, she suddenly blurts out, “FYI, I have an Australian Shepherd named Indigo, and she’s extremely friendly. I probably should’ve told you, but I kind of forgot she existed for a second.”
I love dogs, but all I can do is nod quickly as we step inside. Indigo barks once, then immediately starts wagging her butt. I’ve heard that Australian Shepherds either have full tails or little nubs. Indigo has the cutest little nub I’ve ever seen.
Mel lives in a one-bedroom apartment with a massive living room. I have no idea how she affords it. Maybe she does OnlyFans and sells foot pics; if so, I want in. She runs to grabher guitar and hands it to me, asking me to play whatever I want. I’m still buzzed and already consider her a friend, so I have no problem singing in front of her.
I go with Wonderwall by Oasis. It’s easy, familiar, and kind of iconic in a slightly cringe but loveable way.
About a minute in, I catch Mel staring at me with wide eyes and a grin.
She suddenly exclaims, "WHAT THE FUCK, you're amazing! You're in! I don't mean to be a dick, but it also helps that you're hot as fuck. You've got the voice of an angel, and you're hot. You're the full package."
Before I can even react, I laugh to myself. Both Mel and Tom had stopped me mid-song, and honestly, I don't mind. I know I'm a good singer, but hearing it from someone else quiets the self-doubt and keeps the intrusive thoughts away.
Once I gather myself, I smile and say, “I’m glad you liked it and glad you didn’t make me finish. I’m still drunk and can’t focus on anything except what I want to eat.”
Mel laughs and tosses me a bag of cheddar Goldfish, which I fucking love. I eat half the bag without thinking, then pause. As much as I like Mel, I need a real job with a real income. My savings are nearly gone, and if I don't find something soon, I'll have to start working as a waiter or busk again.
Trying to sound casual but probably failing, I mutter, “I really want to join your duo, but I’m looking for something with growth potential. Do you have anything planned, like events or weddings?”
I didn't mean to sound rude. I hope it came off as genuine. Mel's eyes light up in the way they do; her energy is so contagious it's hard not to smile around her. Honestly, I've had a permagrin since I walked through the door.
She suddenly stops and squints at me. “Why do you keep smiling? I haven’t even told you the good news yet!”
She continues, “Yes, I have a bunch of events lined up. My partner and I were booked, which is why I’ve been rushing to find someone new. Over the next two weekends, I have two weddings and a small unpaid gig. But on Saturday, August 25, we’ve been invited to perform at a major event.”
She pauses, then adds, "But before I get into that, would you want to play with me at a dog adoption event near Times Square? It's a volunteer gig, so there is no pay, but you said you love dogs. Plus, it'll be fun and a great way to practice. Weddings are low-pressure events, which is good since we'll need the rehearsal."
I light up. “First…yes, I’d love to do the dog adoption event. And second, what’s this major event? Is it actually that big, or are you just hyping it up?”
Mel grins. “If you say yes, you’ll be joining me at New York City’s annual Mental Health Awareness Charity Event. There’ll be around 500 people, and get this…many of them are with the New York Hawks football team. Want to know the best part? Their new running back will be there: Carter Elliot! He was just traded a few days ago. I need to meet him. He’s ridiculously hot.”
My heart practically skips. Carter Elliot. How did I not know he was traded? I don't follow him specifically, but I do follow everything football. My mind flashes back to college. That kiss. It was brief, but damn, it was electric. He was so quiet, but I could sense something wild beneath the surface.
And right now, I could use a little wild in my life.
I wonder if he remembers me. If he remembers the kiss. If he ever jerks off to the memory like I do. God, I hope he’s figured himself out, maybe even found a way to be open about who he is. I can’t imagine the pressure of hiding something like that, constantly worried it’ll all come crashing down.
It’s probably wishful thinking that we’ll even speak after I perform. But still, you never know.
I must have zoned out, because Mel is staring at me with a look that screams “hello?!”
“So, is that a yes? Will you be my partner?” she says, hands on hips.
I burst out, “YES!”
We both cheer and celebrate with one more drink. I’d love to keep partying, but I really need to get back to Jersey. The hangover is already knocking on the door, and I need my bed now.
Before I leave, Mel stumbles over and says, "I'm so glad you showed up. I think you'll be an even better fit than my last partner. Obviously, we'll need to work on harmonizing and figure out which songs you'll back me on and which ones you could lead."
We finalize our plan before I head out. It’s wild, but the dog adoption event is Friday, and our first wedding is this Saturday. We decide I’ll sleep over from Wednesday till Friday’s event so that we can get a couple of solid practice sessions in.
Sure, this is all happening fast, and maybe it’s a little strange, but I have a good feeling. I want to ride this wave. As I head out, I smile at Mel, hug her goodbye, and feel something I haven’t felt in a while: Hope.
Carter
