AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With Tessa’s guidance,I crafted the perfect text invite for Jake to join us. I tried to make it as nonchalant and obligation-free as I could, but under the influence of several mimosas, Tessa was an almost unstoppable force. Even so, Jake agreed to meet us for karaoke.
Suddenly, our fun girl’s night had turned into an evening I had to prepare for, and fortunately Tessa sobered up quickly enough to help me. I settled on a short floral dress with thigh-high boots and a soft, oversized sweater that hung off one shoulder. I had planned on jeans and a t-shirt for girl’s night—ordinarily I wasn’t trying to look hot for bottom-basement karaoke. But Tessa insisted I had to go all in, and she had certainly dated a lot more than I had, so I took her advice. She, however, stuck with jeans.
I’d been purposefully vague about what time to arrive, since I didn’t want it to sound too formal, so I wasn’t sure what time Jake would show. Tessa and I usually slid in a few minutes before the karaoke started because it didn’t draw a large crowd and drinks were cheaper next door at Sarah’s Corner. So, we had a couple steadying rounds of rum and coke before we slipped over to the Aspen Underground.
True to its name, the Underground was actually downstairs from the street level, although not technically underground since there was an outdoor landing. Flyers were taped all over the entry way advertising the specially themed karaoke night, and to my absolute shock the place was packed.
A guy with a mullet and a red, white, and blue sweatband was singing 'Don't Stop Believing' and the audience was singing along.
In dismay, I glanced around and realized all the tables were full, suddenly regretting my high-heeled boots. Damn Tessa; if not for her, I’d be in comfy flats right now. I didn’t see Jake among the crowd, either.
We made our way to the bar and flagged down Max. “Quite a crowd here tonight!” I shouted over the enthusiastic roar of the audience. “What gives?”
“It’s the costume contest,” he shouted back, already fixing our usual drinks. “There’s a big prize. It brought people out of the woodwork.”
Tessa and I exchanged a glance, then dug out our phones to pull up the flyer.
Sure enough, below the large colorful letters proclaiming ’80’s Karaoke’, there was a lot more information detailing the contest and how to win. Apparently, the winner had to not only be in costume but also sing an eighties song in order to be entered.
“How did we miss that?” I asked, and Tessa just shrugged. “Okay, well you don’t get to shame me for not knowing it was eighties night when you apparently didn’t read the flyer, either!”
Max slid over our drinks and we opened our tab, then stood together by the bar, staring out at the crowd.
“So, where do you want to go?” Tessa asked. The singer finished his song and slipped off the stage, and Andy the MC took the mic to announce the next singer.
“I dunno. I guess we could just hang here for a minute and see if something opens up?”
Tessa glanced at the door doubtfully, where more people were pouring in every minute. I scanned the crowd for a table and spotted someone in a giant windbreaker with a huge mustache waving in our direction. He didn’t look familiar; must have seen someone coming through the door behind us.
Tessa nudged me. “Should we go up and put our names in for a song? From the looks of this crowd, it could be a while before we get called up.”
“Yeah, that’s probably smart. Do you know what you want to sing?”
Tessa rolled her eyes. “Come on, like you have to ask.”
Careful not to spill our drinks, we slipped between the tables. My phone buzzed in my purse, but I ignored it while we filled out our song request. My phone began buzzing more insistently, indicating a call, so I set down my drink and fished it out.
It was Jake. He must be running late. I canceled the call and opened up a message, planning to text him and tell him it’s too loud to answer the phone, but then I saw he had texted me. When I read his message, I glanced up in shock, then erupted in laughter.
“What did I miss?” Tessa was at my elbow, having turned in the slip, and eager to be in the know.
“Over there,” I pointed to the guy with the windbreaker and mustache, “that’s Jake. I didn’t recognize him, but he got a table.”
Tessa leaned back, a disgusted expression on her face. “When did he have time to grow a mustache?” she commented with distaste. Tessa hated mustaches.
“He didn’t. He’s obviously dressed up for the contest. Come on.”
We wove through the crowd and made our way to Jake, who had incredibly hoarded a table and chairs for the three of us. He hopped down from his stool to hug me in greeting, immediately sending me into another peal of laughter.
Besides the neon-blue, extravagantly oversized wind breaker, Jake had on the tiniest blue shorts I’d ever seen on a man—dangerously close to revealing something that should never be seen in public—complete with white sneakers and crew socks pulled up his calves.
“Wait, you need the full effect,” he grinned beneath the Magnum PI-style mustache. Tessa claimed her seat while I waited, and Jake fished out a pair of oversized, mirrored aviator sunglasses. After placing them on his head, he did a few deep knee bends and lunges, preening for the surrounding crowd, who were enjoying the show entirely too much.
“Alright you win best in show,” I laughed. “You remember Tessa?”
“Of course, nice to see you again,” Jake held out his hand for a shake.
“Likewise,” she answered, then looked back and forth between us expectantly.
