Chapter 1: The Stage
Taking a deep breath I pushed through the curtains and jumped up the few stairs to the stage. Striding confidently to the mic, I signaled Val to begin the drum line for the first song of our set. Swaying my hips to the beat, my voice rang out clear in the crowded club. God, I love my life.
Tonight our setlist included selections from Ariana Grande, Rhianna, Pink and Lord. Dancing across the stage, the crowd was really into the beat. It was easy to get caught up in the atmosphere, all the people dancing, their bodies swaying, moving rhythmically to the tones I sang. We chose our list carefully, making sure that people would get nice and thirsty from all the heavy dancing with our upbeat songs, then give them breaks to go get more drinks with deliberately timed slower songs. Strategic and kinda manipulative? Sure. Effective? You bet it is.
Since I started singing at this club, all my nights have been packed. You can gain quite the name for yourself singing for one of the hottest clubs in town. If you're into that kinda life, I honestly wasn't sure yet what kind of life I wanted permanently. So, for now at least, I liked my anonymity. When I was here working, they called be Breathless. Yeah, I'm a Dick Tracy fan and I figured it was meant to be as I got my start in this business singing jazz. That was actually how the club owner, Nicholas, initially found me. It was two years ago now that I was singing in a little Jazz bar on the outskirts of the city, barely scraping by. Now, I'm on top of the world, or at least the part of the world that I had carved out for myself. And for me, that was just as good.
Belting out the last verse of Ariana Grande, Dangerous Woman, I saw Nicholas standing on his VIP balcony overlooking the dance floor with a clear view of the stage. I could even see the glint in his deep green eyes through the haze of heat rising off the dozens of bodies intertwined below him. Meeting his stare, he raised his martini glass to toast my performance, before continuing to watch the show.
After we finished, loud techno and EDM filled my ears. It was getting late and the best way to keep the night owls happy was an alcohol and drug addled rave. I loved it all. The way the lights danced over the curves of the bodies before me. Men and women alike, muscle sinew straining with the rapid movements and skin glistening with sweat. I thrived in this world.
Stepping off the stage, I followed my bandmates to our reserved back room to rest and change before we had to go mingle on the dance floor. I collapsed on the large sofa as we all caught our breath from the performance. Pop nights were hard, just from the physical exertion the songs required. Luckily, we knew the best way to wind down after a hard night.
"Shots!" Valorie, our drummer and my best girlfriend shouted as the entered the room carrying a tray of lemon drops. She was a little older than me, just turning 23 last month. She was followed closely by a girl I had seen at some of the shows before. I think she was a bar tender at another club we went to, she looked very familiar. Raffi, our keyboard player, eyed her up immediately and began chatting with her as they both took their chosen shot glasses. Raffi was a sultry 22 year old looker, with curly brown hair, deep tan skin and hazel eyes.