The notes are sour... where is the power?
Who: Kaz and Aileen Where: Ossa and the fifth floor, then heading downstairs When: 8:30 PM
Kaz had gone down to Ossa a little early. Part of his contract was that he was to make appearances at parties like this, which he accepted, although he didn't have his heart into this one. A nineties theme? I was pretty much wearing the same thing then as I do now, he had thought as he looked through his wardrobe. He'd settled on a simple suit with no tie. Luckily men's clothing didn't go through nearly the phases women's did, for the most part.
He was sitting at a table by the bar, tuning his guitar and working through a new song he'd been having trouble with. He figured it wouldn't hurt, since he was supposed to be part of the entertainment, to bring the guitar, make the fans feel special for getting to hear an impromptu performance. He'd already downed one Shiner Bock, grateful that the ship had carried it, and was almost done with another. He put it down on the table and began to play a slow little melody on the guitar.
He sung quietly to himself. "And I know that I am the luckiest, and I know... know... FUCK." He played a dissonant chord then leaned over to scratch out some lyrics he had jotted down on a napkin. He rubbed his temples then took another swig. He knew he should slow down, but he always wrote better when he was a little "sedated." And since he'd gotten off the smack...
Suddenly, darkness enveloped the club. "The hell?" Kaz jumped up and heard the sound of guitar hitting bottle, followed by the sound of liquid pouring. "Aw, Christ!" The red emergency lights were coming on already, and his eyes adjusted just in time to see the contents of his bottle emptying out onto the napkin and blurring the freshly-written lyrics on the napkin. He looked down and sighed. "Crappy song anyways." He heard the loudspeaker crackle to life and apologize for the blackout. He smiled a little when he heard the announcement about the free drinks. "Guess I better pack up. Can't pass up free booze." He looked around for his guitar case, but he quickly came to the realization that he'd left it somewhere that he'd never find in the dark. That lazy Cuban barkeep better not steal it while I'm gone. He slung the guitar over his shoulder and headed for the corridor, which at least seemed a little better lit than the club. He looked around once he was outside. "Now. Where's the damn stairs again?"