Who: Cinderella’s Prince Tom, Hans Westergaard, Anna of Arendelle When: Recently, Early November Where: Karaoke Bar What: Tom gets Hans drunk enough to karaoke. Rating/Warning: Low/None (Anna has an illegal, underage drink. Okay, two.) Status: Complete!
Tom knew the guy who owned the place. (This was a very common sentence for Tom.) Actually, Hans probably knew the guy, too, as he was friends with one of Hans’ older brothers. (Which was how he knew Tom, anyway. Though, their friendship had evolved past that.)
So they had their own, private booth. It was toward the front of the place, blocked off from the rest of the club by a small wall. Private. There was a pitcher of cold beer on the table when they arrived, with three frosty glasses. Tom was only half-way on the prowl tonight, though. He was still fighting with himself about these Dreams. And he was trying not to crush on one of his recent conquests.
Tom opened the karaoke book and flipped through the pages idly, letting Hans pour the first round from the pitcher. “...they have thousands of songs.”
Oh hell. Thousands of songs. Thousands. Hans couldn’t want for this torture to unfold. Good thing there was beer, though he’d likely need something harder if he was going to croon out ‘Love is an Open Door.’
Actually, fuck it. Even high-grade moonshine straight from a backwoods tub couldn’t get him to sing that.
But he supposed it was good that Tom was finally meeting Anna. Hans had met a few of her friends, so it was time she meet his too. Though he hoped she and Tom got along better than her and Kate did. “I’ll leave it up to the girlfriend,” he sighed, after he poured beers for them all, even if Anna would probably crinkle her nose and not want to drink it. “Surely she can pick something that will let us win.” That cash prize would be theirs, damnit.
Anna had done some research after Hans invited her but before they ended up at their table on the night of. She'd researched the place, and was impressed by the state-of-the-art tech that went into it. There were voting computer pads at every table and booth. The festivities started at seven pm--twenty-five acts performed, and the audience was asked to grade each one, all the while stand-up comedians came on between acts to warm up the crowd and waste time while the DJ prepared the next performer. It took about three hours all said and done, and there was a lot of alcohol consumed during that time. Apparently, there was a huge crowd that came in just to watch and vote. And the karaoke performers, too, all vying for that cash prize. Five hundred dollars to the winner. Which was small change compared to the amount that was spent on alcohol over the night.
Would Hans believe Anna had never tried beer before? Wine, sure. But she'd always shied away from beer because of the smell. But she was willing to try it tonight. She accepted the pint glass, grinning. Beaming, really. The girlfriend. She loved being called that. "Wellll," she said, "We could try Cruisin Together. That's a classic duet. Smokey Robinson?" Did Hans know it? "Or Lady Antebellum's Need You Now?" She hadn't sipped her beer yet.
Tom was amused by the spunky redhead. They'd only spent, what, ten minutes together so far tonight? And already he liked her. She had this beauty and innocence that he couldn't help but want to protect. ...and corrupt at the same time. But that was the Tom side of him. The side that he wasn't particularly proud of.
"Either of those would be fantastic." Tom offered, then gave Hans a quick "cheers" before picking up his pint glass to gulp from it. "No idea what I'll be going up there with. We've got two slots. And one of us is coming home with that prize.” ...great mints think alike, eh, Hans?
The cheers was returned, and Hans gratefully took a pull from the chilled mug. “You think maybe we could just do something for all three of us?” he asked, since that should blow the audience away, in his opinion. Not just a duet, but a triple whammy. Something that tasted like lemony fresh victory.
Mostly he was just tasting the beer now, but he was still coherent. His arm slid around Anna and fingers reached over her shoulder for the book to flip through. “...Lady Marmalade, perhaps?” You know. Whatever that song was, usually sung by Christina Aguilera and the rest of the girl power brigade. But there were enough parts for three people. And presumably Hans would still be sober enough to get the lyrics right. Mocha-choca-latte-ya-ya?
"All three of us?" Tom asked, eyebrows raised. He wasn't sure he knew of any songs with two guys and a girl, but then--
Anna broke into a laugh, nodding enthusiastically. "That's perfect!" She agreed. She could do some of the cool, Christina Aguilera stuff. The trills and whatnot. Her voice wasn't as sharp, but she could try. Or maybe the Mya stuff? She definitely wasn't P!nk-like.
"If that's what the lady wants," Tom agreed with a chuckle. He filled out one of the two little slips with the song title and number from the book. "That's what the lady shall have. What shall we call ourselves, then?" They needed an act name.
Anna went to take a sip from her pint glass, and frowned deeply at the flavor. Hey, at least she didn't spit it out. She set the glass back down and pushed it toward the middle of the table.
Guess that was a ‘nay’ about the beer. Hans chuckled lightly, but Anna shouldn’t worry - he’d drink this beer for her if she didn’t like it. In fact, he slid the glass toward him instead. “It’s an acquired taste,” he informed her. “But let’s see...a name?” Something spicy and memorable. Something that spoke of their winner status. Because they would win, and split the prize money - or probably just buy more drinks with it.
“...The Hot Tamales?” Really, he had no idea. Naming things was not his expertise, nor was singing lady parts - he had a deep voice, it was all about that bass and not really Christina-esque. But oh well, he’d just take it down an octave or so. Apparently his dreams granted him the gift of knowing how to harmonize.
“The Hot Tamales it is.” Tom agreed. Hans was on fire tonight. Tom hadn’t come up with any plans so far, except for picking the joint, getting the tickets and ordering the beer. Which, apparently, didn’t please Anna. He frowned a little when he looked up and saw Hans was double-fisting. “...Shall we order you something else, Babydoll?”
Anna went deep pink at the pet name. Babydoll?? She grinned, though. “I’ll have a Coke?”
Ah, to be young again. Tom leaned in a little, wrapping his arm around Anna’s shoulders (even though Hans’ was already there) and whispered gently, “You can have anything you want, hon. No one’s going to ask you for ID. Not here.”
Sure, it was a danger to the liquor license, but Tom had that kind of pull. Hans probably did, too, if he wanted to use it.
Anna turned to look up at Hans, as if silently asking permission.
“She has a name, can you not?” Hans gave Tom a bro-shove (nothing with any malice behind it, of course) away from himself and Anna’s cuddle moment. But not even he called Anna something stupid like ‘babydoll.’ What the hell? “Rum and coke would be good, you can’t even taste the rum.” He glanced at Anna, amusement flickering in fresh-olive eyes. “It’ll add a nice boost, for when we get up there.”
To sing. This threesome (only on stage, Tom, don’t get any ideas - Hans was not a sharer) called The Hot Tamales, Karaoke Superstars.
Tom laughed. “Shut up and drink your beer.” He said, but withdrew his arm. “One Rum and Coke for Princess Anna, coming up!” Then he climbed up out of the booth to go turn in their song request form and grab her drink from the bar. He had to make a round, anyway, saying hello to the important faces in the crowd. He wouldn’t abandon Hans and Anna for long, but he had to say hi to the owner, the bartender, and a couple of beautiful girls he’d slept with who were hanging out at the bar.
Anna leaned her head against Hans’ shoulder. Cuddle moment times infinity. “I don’t drink much.” Mulled wine sometimes. Never beer. And almost never anything harder. She, Caroline and Buffy had plans to have a sleepover with alcohol and girly movies, possibly makeovers. The kind of thing Anna never had growing up. But this was new and exciting.
Since Tom had gone off to say hello to the women in the establishment whom he bumped uglies with, Hans assumed he’d be a minute or so. He and Anna could just hang out at the table in the meantime, until their ‘group name’ was called and they had to go up on stage. And judging by the acts that were already going on, this was going to be a piece of cake. Like taking candy from a baby, that’s how easily the prize money would be theirs.
“You don’t have to drink more than one,” he promised, kissing the top of her head and nuzzling into her hair. “Save the first drunken experience for...not at karaoke.” At least that was his professional recommendation, anyway.
They probably had a couple of minutes to themselves. Anna was going to take full advantage. She wanted to be disgustingly sweet and cuddle and not worry about what Tom might think/do/say/et cetera. She pressed her cheek in closer against his collarbone. “Yes, because then we might not win. And There’s five hundred dollars at stake.” Not that any of them needed the money. It was the principle of the thing. “You’ll have to come over and bring some bottles and we’ll get drunk together sometime?”
Anna really was a cuddle monger, but Hans always obliged her. He didn’t know why. Maybe he was secretly into it as well, but no one should ever utter those words. “We’re definitely going to win,” he smirked. Fingers twisted through her hair, as she found her exact cuddling spot on him that she had probably staked for her own at this point. “I suppose getting drunk in private is better than a public spectacle...”
He wasn’t even a fan of excessive alcohol consumption, or being drunk (he liked control far too much for that), but it was just one of those rites of passage so if that’s what Anna wanted, he’d go for that too. “Sometime. Whichever night. I’ll bring something you’d like.” Something sweet, probably. Like Rumchata. Sweet, creamy puke juice.
Was it possible that Anna had woken Hans’ inner cuddle monster? He didn’t seem to mind cuddling with her at any rate, so she wasn’t about to stop. Her hand came to rest against his chest, palm down, fingertips idly petting the fabric of his shirt. “Then it’s a plan. I think I’d like it. I mean, I want to be with someone I trust the first time.”
Tom was making his way back across the bar. He’d just narrowly avoided being splashed in the face with a drink, actually, by one of those women. The blonde one. The one with the temper. He was carrying Anna’s drink, and set it on the table in front of her before slipping into the booth. It was a round, corner-like booth, so he sat down on Anna’s opposite side, trapping her in.
“We’re all set. We go on in about half an hour.” Tom said, and reached for his beer. “The bartender put some grenadine in your rum and coke,” he added to Anna. “It’ll be even more sweet.”
When Tom returned, Hans leaned back a little just so Anna could sip on her drink and he could continue with his beer(s). They were both mostly done, wasn’t that impressive? “Half an hour,” he nodded, cracking his knuckles like he was gearing up for a fight, twisting his neck so it popped too. Because this was going to be an intense karaoke jam.
Right now, it was ‘Don’t Stop Believing.’ And Journey would not have been proud.
“Predictable,” he sighed, with a motion as if to wave away that contestant. “We should take a bet on how many people do Journey.” And if he heard that Piano Man song by Billy Joel he was going to flip a table. It was like a staple in every bar.
Tom was definitely impressed. He hadn’t made much of a dent on his own beer, but that was understandable. He’d been up and about wandering the bar instead of sitting there, drinking, cuddling with some girl. One girl. Not exactly Tom’s style, but Anna was pretty adorable. And Hans seemed happy to let her cuddle against him. Tom could catch up quickly when it came to the beer. He lifted his glass and gulped from it, downing most of the remainder in a long chug.
“Is Journey popular?” Anna asked Hans. This was her first time at Karaoke, after all. She had no idea what the rules were.
“Not anymore, in the mainstream,” Hans chuckled. “But for karaoke? Yes.” The person onstage had kind of butchered the song though. It made him wince. His arm went back around Anna, loosely, sort of the Diet Coke of cuddling - he didn’t want to be all up in her business while she was trying to enjoy her adult beverage, but he didn’t want the contact to completely dissipate either.
Amusement in his questioning gaze was volleyed over toward Tom. “And how are the ladies doing this evening?” If he only got punched in the face by one girl, it was probably considered a victory.
“Oh. You know.” Tom said, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a victorious smile. “They’re beautiful, as always. But not so much as your company.” Tom gave Anna a wink, then gulped again from his glass.
The wink made Anna flush and shrink against Hans a little. She lifted her adult beverage and sipped from the straw. (A straw! Tom was so evil.) It was really sweet and syrupy. Anna liked it.
“I normally like this song,” she admitted to Hans, ignoring the comment about being beautiful. “But not tonight.” Was all karaoke this terrible?
Hans dropped another kiss in Anna’s hair, assuring her, “Don’t worry, I think all his test results came back clean,” referring to Tom, as a joke. Because didn’t he just exude herpes? Prince Charming, really and truly. Although back in those days, the concern was probably more along the lines of syphilis.
Though Tom did have a point. Anna was quite beautiful. Hans thought so, of course. He stroked down her arm, lightly, and back up - maintaining more class than to simply grope her in public. “We’ll blow them all away when we get up there,” he promised. And crappy renditions of anything Miley Cyrus would be long forgotten.
Or Kelly Clarkson. The next act was completely out of tune. Tom was a little surprised that they didn’t give her the hook. Or cut off her mic. Or something. Because really, the girl needed to be put out of her misery. Maybe she was too drunk to hear herself. “It’s a shame we’re not allowed to vote on the other acts. I think this one would get a two.”
Anna giggled into her adult beverage. “A two would be generous.” ...apparently, the rum, grenadine and coke was going straight to her head.
Kelly Clarkson, someone kill him now. Hans rolled his eyes to the ceiling and back because he was not drunk enough for Since U Been Gone. He even felt the need to glance toward the windows to make sure none had been shattered during that heinous act of vocal inhumanity. “Are we on yet?” he asked hopefully.
It took a few more painful sets, however. And then they were on. Make way for the winners, everyone. The Hot Tamales were about to kick your asses.
Anna made it through the remainder of her drink while they were waiting, so by the time she got up onto the stage, she was feeling warm around the collar. Loose. Happy. She was grinning brightly, maybe even a little loopy, as the music started. She knew this song. She had this. The drink and the stage and the music combined to wake something up inside her, something she would probably be embarrassed thinking about later. But for now she put on a playful and sexy show.
Which amused the hell out of Tom. They each had a microphone in hand, and Tom found that somehow--whether from the Dreams, or whatever else (alcohol? camaraderie?)--the three of them fell into harmony without having planned or practiced it.
It was definitely the alcohol.
Probably some camaraderie.
The dreams too. Mostly because before those damn things, Hans had never even known he could carry a tune. Some people were gifted with the ability to shoot lasers from their ass (or create snow clouds, in Elsa’s case) and others were granted the gift of song.
Thank the gods he had been drinking for this.
And technically there were four parts to this song, but the three of them managed just fine. Anna was Christina, Tom was probably P!nk, and Hans was...that other lady. Mya? But wait, who was the other one? Who was she? It didn’t matter, he got all the lyrics right. Plus, they brought the house down with their stunning rendition of Lady Marmalade.
“Never again,” he warned the others, before taking a bow. Exit, stage right!
Tom chuckled. “Have another beer.” He was definitely the first one off the stage, quickly moving back to their booth table. Tom certainly needed another one.
Anna was loving it. She laughed, clapped along with the audience, then blew kisses and waved. Finally someone had to grab her by the hand and lead her off stage, so the stand-up comic could come on and keep the crowd warm between musical acts. She bounced into the booth and turned to beam at Hans. “That was fun. I want another drink.”
Have another beer seemed like the best advice, so Hans took it. However, it was nice to see Anna having so much fun - the way her whole face lit up, her smile and laugh, and the way she really seemed to enjoy being a crowd-pleaser. At least one of them was, because Hans wasn’t going to be signing any autographs after this crap. Still, her good mood was enough to make him crack a smile too, at least.
“I’ll get you one,” he offered, before he settled back at their table. It didn’t take him long either - just a quick trip to the bar, to get the same rum and Coke with that extra shot of grenadine.
He was back and actually ready to revel in their victory. “They’re going to announce the winners soon.”
“You’re having a good time, then?” Tom asked Anna while Hans was across the bar getting her drink. He scooted over just a little in the booth so they could communicate without having to shout.
“Oh, yes, that was amazing. I’ve never been up on stage before,” Anna confessed, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I have to take a public speaking class for college, so this was really a good way to start.”
“You’re a natural,” Tom gave her a wink. Then he reached forward to fill his glass and Hans’ with the rest of the pitcher. Then he slid it toward the edge of the table.
“Thanks,” Anna flushed deeply, smiling shyly. Hans came back to the booth and Anna scooted over to give him room. “I hope we win!”
“How could we not? You heard those other acts,” Tom scoffed, lifting his pint glass for a gulp.
Hans heard the tail end of that, and he had to agree when he returned to his spot. Anna was given her tasty beverage so they could toast. “Well, here’s to winning...and doing something good with that five-hundred dollars,” he said, clinking his mug against Anna’s glass, and then Tom’s. Really, five-hundred dollars was chump change but it really was all about the principle. The thrill of victory, and all that.
Though most everyone in the bar was knee-deep in booze anyway, so it wasn’t like it mattered in the scheme of things. But it’d make a good bragging story?
Anna happily clinked her glass against Hans’, while Tom reached over to clink his in, too. Then Anna sipped from her straw. (Straw. Really. As if she wasn’t already tipsy enough.) She gulped quickly, and brightened a bit. “Ooh, like what?” Anna was sitting on mountains of money--the insurance money from her mother and father’s death, her trust fund, inheritance… etc.--but she’d spent her whole life inside a house. She had no idea how to spend money.
“You mean we’re not just gonna split it three ways?” Tom teased. He was curious to hear how Hans was thinking about to spend it.
“Well, we could...” Hans tapped his fingertips upon the table, lifting an eyebrow. “Or we could pool it and get something completely ridiculous that we all could use.” And just take turns, like having joint custody of a kid. It would work out perfectly.
He had just the thing too. “How about a frozen drink machine?” Some of those fancy ones could easily go for $500, or more. They’d get one of the professional variety, the type that would have everyone clamboring for the margaritas.
Anna gave a gasp. “That’s the best idea ever! So we can have Pina Coladas on Fridays!” Then there was a gentle squeal. Not the kind that irritating teenagers make, but a playful, happy one.
And it had Tom laughing. “I like that idea.” He didn’t know about Pina Colada Fridays. “...we’ll just set it up at Anna’s place, and you can invite me over for drinks.” He reached over to rub Anna’s head, messing up her hair.
Oh good, Pina Colada Fridays. “Sounds like a plan,” Hans laughed too, especially at how Anna’s hair went every which way - she looked cute. “Of course, we’re all pretty sure we’re going to win...” Was there any doubt? You just, in a karaoke bar, didn’t mess with people who dreamed of fairytale singalongs. It was the golden rule.
He supposed they’d find out right now, because it was time for the drumroll (lacking an actual drum) and the hooting and hollering from the audience as the winners were announced. HotTamalesHotTamalesHotTamales! Repeat the mantra!
“Hot Tamales!” The man with the microphone announced. The room burst into cheers and applause.
Anna sprung from her seat as if she’d just sat on a tack. She gave another little, delighted squeal, though this one was more laughter than squeal. Both hands came up to cover her mouth in her excitement, though she probably shouldn’t have. That grin lit up the whole room.
Tom stood as well, as it was customary for the winners to head up to the stage and accept their prize--and, of course, one final round of applause for the night. He lifted a hand for a high-five to Hans along the way. He was that kind of guy. None of this modern, fist-bump business.
The high-five was reciprocated, with a laugh on Hans’ end, because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that. But it was such an odd lighthearted feeling that came over him as they all went up on stage to collect the winnings and also bask in the glory for the crowd. Usually he was so wrapped in shadow tendrils, serious as a heart attack and grim to boot. And how could he not be, when a past he hadn’t remembered began to weigh him down? But now, it was a chance to not be burdened by any of that. The sunshine from Anna was healing.
And okay, so was the thought of a completely ridiculous way to spend five-hundred dollars. Slushees for everyone? Sure, why not.