At David's suggestion he be called 'grandpa,' Ariel made a face and shook his head vehemently over his mojito. The thought of it made him uncomfortable, though he knew it was a joke. No, one was to avoid calling one's crush "grandpa" - that much he knew, regardless of whether or not it was a hopeless or realistic crush. (Ariel's fell firmly into the former category.)
"Obviously," replied the boy with a very meaningful look as he slid off of his stool, leaving his glass on the bar with a soft clink. He approached the stage, brushing off the looks he got as he walked by. As a young man who used copious amounts of hair pomade, wore bowties and stunningly put together outfits, he was rather used to the attention he garnered (not all of it positive), but there were still times he had to tell himself to ignore people. Like now.
Mounting the small dais, Ariel turned to the pianist and leaned over the man to whisper his selection into the reedy man's ear. He hadn't been lying when he told David he had several selections up his sleeves at any given moment. He did. What else what he supposed to do with his free time?
The music started and Ariel got into position. He kept his chin to his chest, listening for his cue. It was a song most of the bar patrons were unlikely to know, but he didn’t really mind. He just wanted to sing it. When he heard his cue, he began - and when Ariel sang, he got into it. There wasn’t one bashful bone in his body when it came to performing. He didn’t even look at the small audience. He just sang. And when the song ended, he grinned and hopped off the stage to a bit of applause. He tipped an invisible hat to the room and saddled back up to the bar.
He coughed and took a drink of the melting ice from his mojito. After a moment, his eyes met David’s and he smiled again.