Jazz Friends Who: CJ/Tasha What: Impromptu Performance Where: Las Vegas When: Present Ratings/Warnings: Substance Use, Language, Etc
“I played two shows for you. You said, ‘I’m not doing the best right now, so I’ll pay you next month’. I kindly agreed. It is now a month later, and I want my money.” Tasha was trying hard to stay patient with the club owner, but it was difficult, especially with rent day looming. There was a part of her that wondered if he was treating her this way because she was a woman. Maybe she needed some kind of show of force. But then, she didn’t want to get blacklisted from the club circuit. She sighed deeply.
“I’ll give you another week to pay if you let me drink for free for said week,” the hunter offered, crossing her arms and hating herself just a little.
“Fine.”
Tasha sighed again and made her way to the bar, settling onto a stool and ordering her usual before turning to the act that was currently on the stage. He was probably getting paid.
CJ was sitting at the bar listening to the guy currently playing on the piano, while he wasn’t that bad but there was something about him that irked CJ, missed notes and a seemingly disregard for the piece, it seemed more about this guy’s ego than it was the music. He tried to ignore it and just enjoy the ambience of the place.
He was sipping on a lemonade when the brunette woman came from towards the back and sat on a stool near him, he had seen her here before, playing the guitar up on the stage. “Is it just me or is that guy full of himself?” CJ asked her, seeing the look of general annoyance on her face.
Tasha turned to the voice, checking to make sure the words were actually directed toward her before replying. “The guy on stage, or the owner of the place? Because I know which one I’d like to put in a chokehold.” With that, she threw back her shot and set the glass on the bar. “You look familiar,” she told the blonde man with the accent. “Have you played here before?” She tilted her head. “Violin, right?”
"Bit of both." He had dealings with the owner in the past and in CJ's views the guy thought that he had the best place in Vegas when really it didn't even get in the top 20, but beggars can't be choosers so he'd take what he could get and most of the people he had seen play did have talent and probably deserved to be in places better than this. "Yeah, that's me. Though I don't come here as much as I used to, not when the open mics are better elsewhere." But that again was CJ's opinion, the guy at the piano was a paid performer and had the same kind of ego as the owner, thinking they were Liberace.
“It could be worse,” she told him, her mouth curling up into a smile. “He could be playing commercial jingles. Swear to god, I’ve seen a guy playing the Meow Mix song at an open mic before.” Tasha watched as the bartender refilled her glass, and she nodded gratefully. “So, two questions,” the musician continued breezily. “What’s your name, and what’s that accent?”
"Or Christmas carols at any other time that isn't December." Then again CJ wasn't the biggest fan of carols even though he enjoyed The Nutcracker, too many memories of having to play them for family when he was younger. He chuckled at the question about his name and accent. "Chris. Australian." He usually introduced himself as Christmas, only those who were friends got to call him CJ. "And is that North Western accent I hear?" After nearly twenty years he still hadn't lost his Australian accent and had gotten pretty good at guessing regional accents at least.
“I thought we all just sounded American to you,” Tasha smirked. “I’m Tasha. From Seattle.” She watched as the performer on the piano finished his set, standing up and actually lingering for applause. The hunter nodded toward the stage. “Looks like it’s your moment to ask for an autograph,” she joked, giving Chris a mischievous look.
"Pleased to meet you Tasha." He said, giving a little mock bow. Sometimes he'd shake hands with new people but he wasn't sure if Tasha seemed like the shaking hands type or not. CJ then actually snorted at the comment. "I've got Wayne Newton's signature, I think I'll be fine without this Liberace wannabe." A similar look of mischief came across CJ's lips. "I'm not too bad on the piano, did you bring your guitar with you?"
“Wayne Newton, eh? But that’s not unusual, is it?” Tasha burst into a small bit of giggles before composing herself. “Oh, wait. That’s Tom Jones. Shit.” She shrugged and took her second shot of the night. At the mention of her guitar, she quirked an eyebrow. “It’s in the employee area,” she told him. “Why, are you suggesting we do a duet?” The hunter leaned against the bar, grinning.
“What are you thinking, some Captain N’ Tennille?” She snapped her fingers. “Hey, how quickly do you think we can manufacture some sexual tension?”
"You've lived in Vegas how long and you've never seen Wayne just for the hell of it!?" CJ joked, though he had really gone to a show just so he could say he had seen Wayne Newton perform live, which his grandmother found amusing. "And why not, might as well liven up the joint."
He downed the rest of his lemonade and got off the stool. "I was thinking about rocking out to some Queen, but I can fake it til I make it." He stepped closer to her stool and pulled her towards him like some over dramatic romance moving, all the time showing off a toothy grin.
Tasha got to her feet, swaying a little bit because she was laughing hard. “Oh, well, Queen is a much better suggestion, but which one of us is gonna be Freddie? I would say me, because I’m usually the prettier one, but you look like a soap opera actor.” She led the way to the little room where employees kept their belongings, waving at familiar faces along the way. “I really need to start going to a different spot,” she muttered.
She grabbed her guitar case and slung it over her shoulder. “Ooh, let me do the intro. I know exactly what to say.” Tasha grinned wickedly.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment, I don't think I could ever pull off having Brian May's amazing hair." CJ chuckled as Tasha led him through the bar and out towards where her guitar was kept. Maybe later they could talk about what kind of music she was into and he'd suggest a few new places for her to try out, this was Vegas after all.
"Intro away m'dear, you're probably much better with this kind of crowd than I am." Each venue had a different clientele and this place wasn't like Don't Tell Mama's. When they got out of the room CJ walked over and stood by the piano while Tasha got herself ready before he took a seat on the piano stool.
Tasha adjusted the capo to the first fret on her guitar, a small little burst of feedback as she stepped toward the mic. “This next song is a hard one to play,” she announced, a few heads turning to look toward the stage curiously. She threw a glance at CJ on the piano, gave him a quick wink. “This was our song when we were together. Never date your pianist.” She transitioned into the opening riff of Another One Bites the Dust.
CJ wanted to laugh, both at the intro and also choice of song but instead he started his part on the piano and started singing. No one here knew that they were actually strangers and honestly, did it really matter what anyone else thought as long as they played? He found playing alongside someone new could be a bit hit and miss, some people had egos bigger than the Eiffel Tower replica along the strip while others, like Brian, were just happy to jam and have a good time. It seemed like Tasha fell into that category. When the song was over CJ looked back at Tasha and grinned before turning back to the microphone. “And here’s one for you, my dear,” as he started playing The Winner Takes it All.
“Oh, my god.” Tasha couldn’t help it, the words came out before she could stop it, the mic catching the whispered phrase. She turned to shoot him a withering look, but couldn’t quite land it and ended up stifling laughter as she tried to remember the tabs. There might have been a little bit of improvisation going on. Oh, she was going to get him when it was her turn. Still, if the audience noticed any waffling on her part, they didn’t show it.
CJ managed to stifle his own laughter as he played and sung, of course he didn't have the voice range but he still made do with his slightly deeper version of the song. The last few chords played as he turned his head to log at Tasha, wondering what song they'd do next, or wondering if the owner would come and tell them both to quit it.
Tasha looked to the backstage area and saw the pianist from before, standing in the wings with his arms crossed impatiently. “Oops, I guess he was just on a break,” she announced into the mic before beginning to unplug her guitar from the PA. “To recap, we’re Tasha and Chris. If you’d like to listen to us argue about small, technical details of our performance, we’ll be at the bar and we do accept tips.”
Standing up from the piano there was still a slight smirk on his face as the previous pianist walked back out, taking Tasha's hand he pretty much pulled her towards the staff area before bursting out laughing. "Did you see the look on his pompous face!? Oh god that was the best guerrilla performance I've done in ages!" CJ was leaning against the wall, still in fits of laughter.
Tasha stood by the opposite wall, smirking as she set her guitar case down. “You’re good at improvisation, I like it.” She stretched her arms up, the hem of her shirt rising slightly. “So, I have an important decision to make, Chris. I can either stay here, where the vibe is subpar but the drinks are free, or you can show me someplace new. And I’m so nice, that even if I’ve been there before, I’ll pretend I haven’t to preserve your fragile male ego. What do you think we should do?” She grinned.
"I say we blow this popsicle stand and go find ourselves somewhere with a much better vibe. What are you in the mood for tonight? Rock, pop, jazz or lounge?" Though he didn't know a lot of rock or pop places he did know quite a few jazz and lounge bars, including a couple that not many others knew about. He grinned back and held out an elbow for Tasha to take, maybe he'd take a selfie later and send it to Steve, just for laughs.
She looked at his outstretched elbow and quirked an eyebrow before breaking into a slow smile. “Are you into jazz, Chris?” Tasha asked, considering the options he laid out. When was the last time she had been to a jazz joint? Probably not since leaving Seattle. “Jazz it is, then. And bonus, it’s much more likely that I haven’t been there.” With her free hand, she picked up her guitar case and slung the strap over her shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
“I just felt in a bit of a jazzy mood tonight.” He said with a smile, Chris enjoyed almost every kind of musical genre, well except EDM - that he still couldn’t really get into. When Tasha had her guitar case he walked with her out of the back room, through the bar and out onto the street. The small ‘hole in the wall’ bar he was thinking of was just a few blocks away, not really far enough to worry about driving, not when his car was already parked in an all night zone anyway. “I really hope you like this place, it’s not that big but has a great atmosphere… and the musicians are really down to earth.” He stated as they walked along, letting Tasha lead the way to her car to put away the guitar.
“Down to earth musicians? What’s entertaining about that?” Tasha joked after she had stowed her guitar safely in her car and covered it up to avoid any window-shopping thieves. She walked in stride with him, looking down at their shoes every so often, her scuffed Doc Marten’s next to his clean-looking running shoes. “So, are you a musician by trade, or do you have a day job?” It was rare to meet another artsy type in Vegas they didn’t also have a side hustle.
“Well more down to earth than him,” a thumb pointed back in the direction of the building that they had just left and the pompous attitude of the pianist. Once the guitar was stowed away safely CJ walked with Tasha along the streets towards the bar. Other than Brian and a couple of acquaintances he hadn’t really gone to any venues with someone else, not many people he knew loved live music as much as he did. “I’m the head librarian at NV High School, I have taken over music classes if the teachers are sick but that’s about as close as I’ll ever get to musician by trade. Though I did join an indie band on a temporary basis just this past week.” Even if the man he was replacing for the present time had still come to his ‘audition’ and just seemed to grumble in the corner the whole time.
“Oh, so you have, like, an actual career? Wow.” Tasha flashed him a smile as she was parted from him briefly by someone standing still on the sidewalk. When she rejoined his side, she added, “I forgot to get one of those. Oops.” She laughed at herself, glancing up curiously at the businesses they were passing along the way. There was no way to explain what her actual vocation was, or how she made money from it. Unless, of course, he was in the know.
“This place doesn’t have a dress code or anything, does it?”
CJ laughed, “Yeah, been there about ten years now.” Probably longer but it didn’t really matter, he had a stable job with health insurance and had managed to buy a small house for himself with a relatively small mortgage compared to what he would’ve paid back in Australia. “As long as you’ve got a roof over your head and food in your belly,” He gave a shrug, not one to judge others on their professions.
He glanced over at Tasha to actually take note of what she was wearing. “Na, you’ll be fine.”
Tasha smiled and laughed inwardly at his comment. “We-eell, it really depends on what you’re eating,” she replied cryptically. Of course, she was thinking about the vampires and other creatures she tended to run into in the course of her ‘other’ career. “But that’s semantics.” Once they had reached the venue, she flung the door open and gestured for CJ to enter first. Her eyes ran over the decor, the clientele, the general atmosphere, while her ears took in the sounds of what she thought she could recognize as a Miles Davis song.
It was all semantics, CJ knew that there were countless 'people' out there who weren't exactly human even if they looked the part, he was careful where he walked at night and didn't dare venture out on the full moon. Upon entering the small bar CJ was warmly greeted by one of the waitresses who ushered them to a small table closer to the band than most others.
"What can I get you two?" She asked.
"I'll take my usual, Tasha?" He glanced over at Tasha with a warm smile.
“Bourbon, neat. Well is fine, thanks.” Tasha crossed one leg over the other and returned CJ’s smile. “What’s your usual?” She picked at a strand of denim that hung from a hole in the thigh of her jeans, eyes drifting over to the stage. It was the kind of music her dad liked, and it made her think of the smell of vinyl, blowing dust out of the grooves before putting the record on the turntable.
This bar was one of the few places where CJ would come if he needed to get away from it all, to just relax and listen to good music. From outside it didn't look like much but already the atmosphere had him relaxing somewhat. "A double Shirley Temple. When you don't drink alcohol you learn to appreciate the artistry in mocktails." He knew that Tasha would probably laugh at him for ordering such a drink, but it was delicious and he liked them even if people thought them 'girly'.
“Hey, I was trained on Shirley Temples. They’re delicious.” Tasha grinned at CJ, feeling way more relaxed and appreciating where the night had led her, even if she was still unsure how she was going to make rent. She might have to to start fighting for money. The prospect of putting on a show for the denizens of Seventh Circle wasn’t exactly appealing to her.
“My dad was...or maybe still is, a heavy drinker. Full bar in the basement and everything. He taught me how to use a cocktail shaker.” Tasha paused, ruminating. “Hmm, that sounds less wholesome out loud.”
It did come as a bit of a surprise that Tasha didn't laugh at him, CJ had kind of gotten used to that reaction from others but to hear that she had learnt to make them did bring a smile to his face. "It'd be a lot less wholesale if you had to make them for him because he was too drunk." He said, "I had a friend who's father made her get him alcohol on her eighteenth because he was over the limit and couldn't drive, now that's bad parenting. And legal drinking age is eighteen back in Australia." Not that a lot of people in America knew or cared about that fact.
"Ever thought of getting behind the bar at a place like this? Might be better money than the crappy music venues pay." He asked.
Their drinks were delivered to him, her eyes on his colorful pink mocktail, bright red maraschino cherry bobbing on the surface. She wrapped her hand around the glass of bourbon but didn’t drink from it. “I actually bartended a little in Seattle,” Tasha admitted. “It’s how I met my ex. She, um, she made me go to AA with her, but I never stopped drinking.” The hunter looked down at the amber liquid as she spoke.
“That’s something I omit in my version of events, you know, my own narrative. I lied to her. But she cheated on me repeatedly and I decided that was the worst transgression. It exonerated me and let me keep drinking.” Why was she being so honest with him?
Maybe he just had that kind of face, not like he had anyone to tell really and they might not ever see each other again, though CJ had a feeling that they'd cross paths again somewhere.
"Sleeping around is definitely the larger of those two sins, but that's just my opinion." He took a sip from his Shirley Temple. "Karma will get her in the end. Discovered an ex had cheated before she broke up with me for working too much, guy she left me for ended up crashing her car. She claimed it was stolen and ended up getting done for filing a false police report when the cops found out the truth."
“Damn. Well, here’s to broken promises and shitty exes.” Tasha took her bourbon and clinked it against his bright pink Shirley Temple and took a long pull, instant warmth and false well-being spreading through her like a magic potion. “And to jazz.”
CJ smiled as their glasses clinked together at the toast. "To music, at least it'll never cheat on you." A raise of his glass as he drank down a few large sips of his mocktail, his attention turning from his companion for the evening to the music. His mind wandered as he listened to the organised chaos that was jazz music, wondering for a moment how Steve was spending his evening. Yeah he had it bad.