She pulled her pigtails tighter. She could feel how they pulled at her scalp, but not a single hair could be out of place. She leaned in towards the mirror to look at her reflection: emerald green eyes blinked back at her, not even twitching as she applied the fake eyelashes to them. It was the thrill of the night, a new performance. Anything could happen, and she was ready to tackle anything!
She fastened the choker around her neck and took a deep breath. She was no longer the desperate little girl that presented shows to every couple that walked in the doors, longing for a home and a family. She realized now that she didn’t need to pander to get a family. She didn’t need a family. It was just more mouths to feed, more people to fight for, and why? Because genetics dictated it?! Hell no. If nobody was going to choose her, she was going to choose herself.
She took a deep breath. It was far from her first performance, but she still had butterflies. It was a good feeling. It meant that she was still human. And with the life she was living, that was what mattered more than anything.
She powdered her face gently. Not too much, but just enough. She was not a wasteful person. She grew up saving every morsel of food, every drop of water, every swatch of make-up, any touch of color to brighten up her life, that she could.
“You’re on in five!” The statement made the butterflies explode in her stomach, but it made her smile.
Emotions added the color to life. She held onto the nerves.
She heard her name announced out on stage and hopped up on her toes a couple times. It was the spice of life. She stepped out to the crowd’s applause, blowing them a kiss. She recognized people in the crowd as she took her place behind the piano, spreading her fingers out across the keys. The butterflies burst out of her with her first note. Time always flew when she performed. Each song was a bittersweet delivery to the audience, knowing that it was one step closer to the end, but taking joy in sharing her art with them. Seeing the smiles of the people in the crowd, their swagger disappearing as they consume more drinks, was fulfilling.
After her set, she went back behind the bar. She was only a performer part-time.
“Another lemon drop for this sexy bachelorette right here!” squealed the girl in a high-pitched voice. The bachelorette in question was clearly wasted, but the bartender slash performer wasn’t one to turn down a request. She mixed the drink in question and almost dropped it in surprise when she felt the wandering hand on her ass. Her coworker, a young man with a wicked smirk, gave her a wink as he passed by. The feeling of his calloused fingers lingered on her ass and bare thigh as she poured the requested drink into a pretty little glass and slid it over to the bachelorette, who was receiving a lap dance from a random guy who was barely able to balance on his own two feet.
“How are you doin’ Sweetheart?” came a raspy voice from the side of the bar. “Gimme a Whiskey on the Rocks.”
“Coming right up!” she said with a small sigh, hurrying herself to make the drink. When she slid it over to the man, he gave a smirk and gestured her towards him with his finger. Her heart sunk down to her stomach at the hungry look in his eyes. “Got a nice tip for you, Kitten.” He reached out drunkenly and tried to stick the money in her cleavage. The young bartender wasn’t surprised by this attempt, and took it from his hand. “I’m a bartender, not a stripper,” she said harshly, and turned away from him to get back to work. Her mind lingered on it as she mixed drinks mindlessly, much to her annoyance. Oh well… Emotions were the colors of life…
The clock ticked later and the drunkards filed out of the bar, while more shiny-faced newbies filed in. The whole time, though, one man stayed. He sat all the way at the far end, an expectant smile on his face. Another hand climbed up her skirt that she quickly smacked away. His smile became snaggletoothed as he creased his eyebrows and went to make another young woman a drink.
Eventually, the boy at the end of the bar raised his hand. Her coworker went to handle him, much to her relief. It only took a moment before he came back towards her, gesturing to the guy. “He wants you,” he said, then with a “tch,” he went to show off to another group of customers.
She swallowed the lump in her throat as she walked towards the expectant boy, clenching her fists. She was nobody’s fool.
“So, what’ll it be?” she asked, keeping her voice low and steady. It was always an act. She was always a performer.
“Oh, I didn’t want a drink.” She took a deep breath and leaned backwards, away from him. He was scheming, and she didn’t want to give him any ideas. “How rude of me. I play the guitar. I want to create a band, but we need a really talented keyboardist like you.”
That made her look over. “I’m sorry?”
“I want to make the nation feel good, after everything that’s happened. But I can’t do it alone. You certainly don’t have to decide today, but I would greatly appreciate further communication from you regarding this process. What do you say?”
She didn’t know what to say. She was suddenly nervous and clammy. It wasn’t her nature to trust, but this boy seemed pretty nice… And more importantly, she could overcome him in a fight quite easily.
“You’ll get my email address.”
“Oh! Perfect!” he lightened up quite a bit, and she could see the excitement in his eyes as she went to write it down.
“Better not cheat on me Cupcake,” her coworker said, looking over her shoulder to see what she was writing. She booted him away from her as she wrote the last few letters. She slid the paper across the table to the scrawny boy that was waiting so patiently for her.
“Well, it was nice to meet you! Hope to communicate with you soon.” He gave her a smile before he stood up and walked away from the bar.
Suddenly, he turned around. “Oh, how rude of me, I didn’t even introduce myself! It’s nice to meet you. My name is Freddy. Okay, keep in touch now!” With a last wave, he exited the door.
She got back to work, her mind happy to have something lighter to linger on throughout the rest of her shift. As unlikely as it is for this to actually work, she could at least dream.
After all, hope added color to life.
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