Mostly

Come as you are, as you were

As I want you to be

As a friend, as a friend

As an old enemy

Take your time, hurry up

Choice is yours, don't be late

Take a rest as a friend

As an old memoria

I sang my third song to the crowd. They liked when I started with the Man Who Song the World, but once they realized I was doing Nirvana covers they’d grown less interested. A few of the “younger” (as in younger than average, but still much older than me) people tipped me, but not even enough to get a full meal at McDonald’s.

As far as my actual skill being part of the equation? I was a great singer. I’m not even bragging or anything, I just am a good singer. I was lucky to be born with a damn good voice, sue me! My guitar-ing, on the other hand, was incredibly average. I had a few stumbles that went mostly unnoticed, and I definitely wasn’t doing any fancy moves.

I was pretty sure my voice was the saving grace for me to not have been cut off yet, but I’m not sure how much longer I had before the crowd demanded Greg. I even saw Greg tuning his guitar at the bar, as if he was prepping to take back his rightful place.

I finished up Come as You Are and took a moment to take a swig of beer to wet my throat. As I did, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned around, expecting Buddy to be standing there to kick me out. Instead, I was met with a girl.

She was definitely the youngest person here, besides me. She looked to be in her mid 20s. She had dark hair with big curtain bangs, a cute face with a piercing in her nose, and big breasts that were sort of pressed in my face since I was sitting and she was leaning at me.

I tried not to stare, but I probably stared a bit.

“Hey, dude, you cool with me joining you?” She asked.

I blinked at her, confused. “What?”

“I play bass,” she lifted up her hand, which, lo’ and behold, held a bass. “I want to play Nirvana. Is that cool with you, or…?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” I nodded.

“Don’t worry, I won’t steal your thunder. I may sing a little backup, but this is your show.”

I nodded and turned back to the crowd. They were much more interested now, I noticed. A few smiles littered the faces.

I began to play About a Girl. Not as a cute joke because she’d joined, but because I only knew so many songs well enough to play them without any preparation.

(I do) I need an easy friend

I do, with an ear to lend

I do, think you fit this shoe

I do, but you have a clue

She joined me for the ‘I do’s and the chorus, but besides that just played. She played well, even adding a few flavorful flourishes. Her voice was pretty good, too.

When we completed the song, we actually started received some claps. The tips came running in, and Buddy took the stage.

“Alright, give it up for the new guy, Michael Chase!”

A few polite claps.

“And give it up for the lovely Betty Bar, my wonderful granddaughter!”

Cheers and more than a few claps. They liked her more, it seems.

“That’s all for this week; Greg will be back next week, don’t worry.” He left the stage, and everyone went to talking and drinking.

“So, Michael, is it? Nice to meet ya.” Betty smiled. She held her hand out.

I took her hand and shook it. “And you’re Betty. Buddy mentioned he had a granddaughter before, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He’s always bragging about me.”

“And he should, you were great.”

“You weren’t half bad yourself.” She said, but there was something a bit off in the way she said it. Maybe the look in her eye, maybe the tone of her voice; but I could tell.

“You don’t mean that, do you?” I asked her outright.

She winced. “Okay, well… I did! But… not… all of it was great.”

I hid the fact that I was offended as best I could. “How so?”

“Well, your guitar could use work. But, honestly? I don’t even know why you bother; you have a badass voice, that’s the instrument you should be focused on!”

I was hurt, sure, but it wasn’t anything I didn’t know deep down. “Yeah, I get it. But, I mean, someone’s gotta play guitar when I sing.”

Her eyes seemed to light up a bit when I said that. “That’s true! Hey, hold on, give me a second, alright?”

She ran off towards her grandfather at the bar. They spoke for a moment, and I cleaned up everything else on the stage. When I was done, she returned.

“Okay… how about we play again next week?”