Chapter Two #2
“I’d love a Diet Coke,” she said with a smile.
A nice smile. She was indeed pretty, if in an utterly forgettable way, the way they all seemed to be: light skin, dark hair ironed pin-straight, slim figure, a seasonally appropriate sweater-skirt combination with the latter covering the knee, even when seated …
God, but he’d had this exact date so many times.
Stompy McGlaremaid’s wild honey-colored curls flashed through his brain. She definitely didn’t seem like the kind of girl who sat primly and patiently in hotel lobbies, and certainly not the kind whose knees were always covered.
She didn’t seem like the kind of girl whose hotel dates would be confined to the lobby, either.
He blinked the unwelcome thought out of his head and ordered a Diet Coke and an herbal tea, then braced himself for the getting-to-know-you conversation.
Mrs. Ruziak had already given him the basics—schools, parents, siblings, and so on—but he had never mastered jumping right into discussing things like ideals for raising families.
He knew he made an awkward conversation partner, but given her clear fandom of his music, Judah guessed Batsheva would be a little more forgiving on that front.
Or, she might’ve been if they’d ever gotten there. Instead, she jumped right to “You have such an amazing voice. Is it true you’re on Tani Silver’s next album?”
It was, but Judah racked his brain to remember if that was public knowledge yet, then recalled his cousin-slash-assistant, Lev, saying something about social media graphics and sharing the announcement.
“I am, yes. Tani’s a very talented guitarist; it was a lot of fun to work on.
We did a duet on a new song of his that I think people are really going to love. ”
“I’m sure,” she said, her dark eyes bright.
She really was pretty, and he hated how deeply wasted on him it was.
He could see that she was pretty, knew it intellectually, but it didn’t do anything for him, didn’t spark a feeling or a curiosity or, well, anything.
Mrs. Ruziak had asked him more than once about his “type,” but the truth was, no matter how many different kinds of girls he dated—short or tall, blond or redheaded—he simply didn’t know or care.
He’d assumed that was normal, until he’d made an offhand comment to the friend he learned with every weekday morning, and Nate had looked at him so tragically that he’d kept those thoughts to himself from then on. Chavrusas were for Talmud study, not puzzling out his lacking libido.
But he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this.
How did you choose someone to spend your life with when everyone felt the same to you? When one after another was perfectly lovely and checked off all the boxes from the shidduch questionnaire, and you still could not bring yourself to care to see a single one a second time?
And yet, he knew he was lucky to have these choices. He was benefiting from not simply his minor level of fame but also the fact that he was in decent shape and had all his hair and owned his own place (albeit a studio) on the Upper East Side. He knew that too.
He just wished there were a questionnaire he could fill out that narrowed his prospects down to Girls He’d Remember Five Minutes After the Date Was Over.
“Do you think you could—I know this is such a weird thing to ask, but is there any way you’d sing for me?”
Judah blinked. He’d almost forgotten Batsheva was sitting across from him.
He reached instinctively for his teacup and realized he didn’t even know when it had gotten there.
“I don’t think they’d appreciate a performance here,” he said weakly, taking a sip simply to have something to do with his hands.
“Well, the guy who was playing violin over there is on a break, so maybe they’d be okay with a replacement.” She pointed out a small area he hadn’t even noticed, where a hotel employee stood guard over a closed violin case. “You should ask.”
“I don’t think—”
“I’ll ask,” she said before he could reject the idea out of hand.
He’d certainly credit her one thing—he wasn’t going to forget this date quite as easily as all the others.
Between the bridesmaid and Batsheva, it seemed to be the week for meeting aggressive women.
But at least the bridesmaid hadn’t been giving off stalker vibes.
It had been almost refreshing to see a woman handle him with an attitude instead of whatever this was.
“She says it’s fine!” Batsheva said with a wide smile, a deep dimple punctuating her cheek. “I told her you’re a well-known wedding singer, and even showed her one of your videos. She loved it!”
Judah blinked again. He’d been so sure the hotel would tell Batsheva to buzz off that he hadn’t actually thought about what to do if that didn’t happen.
Not that he got cold feet about performing, but this was …
weird. So extremely weird. And it wasn’t like he could just break out with a Jewish wedding song or lullaby; he was pretty sure that other than another obvious shidduch date in the corner, they were the only two people in this room who spoke any Hebrew. “Batsheva, I—”
“Do you take requests?” she asked eagerly.
What was happening? “Sure,” he said tightly, because it was so ridiculous that he had no idea what else to say. But he wasn’t going to risk having Batsheva go back to Mrs. Ruziak and pass along that he was unaccommodating.
If Batsheva picked up on his lack of enthusiasm, she didn’t show it. And suddenly, he knew what song she was going to pick a second before she did it, and he closed his eyes in resignation.
Which was how he ended up standing in front of the entire lobby of the August Hotel, swallowing deeply just once before breaking into Elvis Presley’s “I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.”
It was a song he’d sung a thousand times before at weddings, and even if he weren’t confident that he sang it well, the entire lobby had stopped what they were doing to watch him, which felt like a pretty good indicator.
He pretended not to notice several people filming him, that a couple more had come in from other rooms, and that the entire line at the front desk had turned around to see where that voice was coming from.
But glancing at Batsheva was the biggest mistake of all, because despite this having been her request, she was staring at him with the bright, shiny eyes of a Disney character, as if he’d specifically chosen this song to publicly confess his feelings to her.
He was tempted to announce into the mic that this was a first date—a blind date, at that—but he wasn’t sure anyone would believe him.
Thankfully, it was a short song, and he told himself that as soon as he was done, he was going to make an excuse to leave this ridiculous date.
But when he closed it out, he was met with hearty applause, and suddenly, requests started flying.
He glanced back at Batsheva, whose hands were joyously and proudly clasped in front of her chest, and sighed.
And then he launched into “All of Me” because, apparently, it was gonna be that kind of night.
By the time he finally extricated himself from the August and put Batsheva in a cab, he was exhausted and his throat was dry and he was halfway to searching for Mrs. Ruziak’s name in his phone so he could tell her he was done.
But before he could make the call, his phone buzzed with a text from Lev.
Lev: I thought you were going on a date tonight?
Judah: I did
Lev: Then where’s that video of you from?
Judah: What video?
A minute later, a link came through, and Judah paused outside the subway entrance to click it. Not terribly surprisingly, it was a video of him at the August; apparently, one of the people who’d been filming him thought it was worth posting.
More surprisingly, it had fifty thousand views and climbing. And he hadn’t even been out of the lobby five minutes.
Oh God.
Judah: How do I get this taken down?
Lev: Why would you want it taken down??
Lev: This is amazing.
Lev: Eitan’s already forwarded me four inquiries.
Judah furrowed his brow. His name wasn’t even in this video, so how were people contacting his manager?
No one at the August knew who he was except for Batsheva, and while he was known in the Jewish world—the Modern Orthodox segment of it, anyway, and even then, mostly in the New York Tri-State area—his name would be instantly forgettable to the staff at the August.
Judah: How do they know who I am?
Lev: Check the comments, and consider this an official I Told You So on the importance of keeping your website updated.
Lev: You’re welcome for that, btw
He didn’t spend much time online, but Judah seemed to recall that the number one rule of social media was not to read the comments.
Still, he knew Lev wouldn’t have sent him to do so if he thought it was a terrible idea, so Judah clicked on the little speech bubble and watched with widening eyes as the section expanded, and expanded, and expanded.
@h2daLo: Oh my god he is so hot???
@Angeltears718: Sir, I am MARRIED
@MinniSky37: Mellllting
@RavShaul: Whatever, I cd do this
@IronWhine: @RavShaul: yah ok bro
And then: @theysayimcoolnow: Yo I know that guy! He sang at my friend’s wedding. His names Judah Klein.
@FoxyNaTal: I’ve seen him! He’s so good.
@EriBeriGel: Lol I’ve never heard him sing in English before. He can sing it to me annnnytime
@MyPerfectTree: Why does the beanie make it hotter?
@Bbkstar13: @MyPerfectTree: It’s called a yarmulke, and bc Jewish boys are hotttt
@ArtBug: Forgive me Jesus but I’m Jewish now
And on, and on. He’d had no idea there were so many Orthodox Jews on social media, but the comments were full of people talking about where they’d heard him—at weddings or bar mitzvahs or shul events—and there was even a whoa that guy totally dated my roommate with a bunch of responses declaring various degrees of jealousy.
Never mind that “dated” was definitely a strong word for whoever the girl’s roommate was; Judah’s record was three dates with the same girl, and only because Mrs. Ruziak threatened to cut him off if he didn’t see at least one girl past two.
He glanced at the views again and saw they’d already doubled, all to watch him singing covers that’d been done by people far more famous than he’d ever be. The internet is such a weird place.
Just as he was about to slide his phone back in his pocket and get on the subway, his eye caught on a new comment.
@KeaverBeaver: yoooo that’s my brother! He’s single, ladies!! Come and get him!
Oh, he was going to kill Akiva.