CHAPTER TWO
LILIANA
“Where do you see yourself a year from now, Lily?”
My eyebrow arches as I look up at my boss, wondering where that even came from.
We’re standing at the back of a building, a metal door between us, each of us staring up at the darkening sky, thinking about how the rest of the night is going to go.
Or at least I’d been thinking of that. It seems my boss had been considering his future instead.
An unseen one that requires no one to think of it.
The future will come when it comes. No use bothering about it.
“Just answer the question, sport. Humor me,” he prods. “Mention five things you’d like to do before the year runs out.”
I stare at him for a couple of seconds. His brown eyes are trained on me and he’s leaning against the wall of the bar, a small smile on his lips like always.
Carlos is probably one of the most peaceful people I’ve ever met.
He doesn’t look for any trouble, and he’s constantly trying to ensure that everyone who works with him is okay.
He takes in strays, people having a rough time in life, and he patches them back together.
He sometimes seems older than his years, although he’s only thirty-nine.
I’ve known him for a long time and he has consistently been patient with me, never pushing me too hard.
He minds his business for the most part.
“I don’t even know five things I plan to do tomorrow.”
“Liar,” he says softly. “You know. You know exactly what you want, Lily. You’re just too afraid to go searching for it.”
My eyes narrow, “What’s with all the psychological bullshit, Car? My shift starts in three hours.”
I’m not even supposed to be here right now. I was heading out to get a little rest and freshen up before coming back here when my shift starts again at 10. But when I walked out of the bar, I’d found him leaning against the wall, like he was contemplating living.
I knew I should have kept moving, but I decided to stay and see what was up.
Big mistake, it seems.
“Life has a way of convincing you you’re not worthy of happiness, and sometimes, it turns you into a villain,” Carlos says softly.
“But there’s a little good out there for everyone.
Sometimes we just have to trust it’s coming when it’s meant to.
And until then, we can’t let the darkness convince us it’s all there is. ”
He looks at me for a long moment, like he’s trying to see past the version of myself I’ve learned to hide behind.
“You know you’ve been here longer than anyone?” he continues. “Four years behind this bar, and I still have no damn clue what’s waiting for you next.”
I look down, scuffing the back of my sneakers against the ground.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”
I just need to save enough money. Every year the plan is to save enough money. But I’m starting to think I’ll never have enough. It’s so frustrating.
“I’m not trying to chase you away, sport.
Lord knows, you bring in the most money at this joint,” he says, exhaling a small laugh.
“I just wonder where you’ll end up. Everyone moves on eventually; you just don’t seem to be planning on it.
You’re so much bigger than this place. You should be writing for the bigwigs, not performing your songs in this dump.
So just tell me what you want to achieve in a year.
Doesn’t have to be anything big. You don’t even need to mention five. ”
“How about you?” I toss back. “What would you like to achieve in a year?”
He chuckles, “Maybe not in a year. But I do plan to close this place someday, go on a road trip around the country, see different sights, maybe with a gorgeous woman at my side.”
“Sounds unrealistic,” I mutter. “You haven’t held down a girlfriend more than three months. And I bet you never close this place down.”
“Don’t shit on my dreams, Lily. Now it’s your turn.”
My tongue prods at the inside of my cheek as I consider the question.
What do I want?
It feels so simple, but the truth is, I have not considered it much. Not since I turned 20 and had to drop out of college. Since then I’ve simply been doing my best. Trying to survive, trying not to think about the rest of the world and how it’s spinning without my contribution.
Carlos has me thinking though I’m not sure what makes the words leave my mouth, but they’re right on the tip of my tongue.
And when I start speaking, I realize they’ve always been burning within me. “I want to have an actual job, not waitressing or bartending or singing, I want to be able to say my occupation and I want it to mean something.”
Carlos nods, gesturing for me to continue with a soft, patient smile.
“But before that I want to go back to college. Get a degree. I could even take online classes or something. I just want to finish what I started. And,” I hesitate with a small laugh, “I want to learn how to drive. It’s a little embarrassing.
I’m 24 years old and I still don’t know how to drive. No one ever taught me though.”
I swallow down the hollow pit in my stomach as I say the words. The despair at what my life has become, what it’s always been.
“I could teach you,” Carlos murmurs. “You only needed to ask, Lily.”
“It doesn’t matter. Those are just dreams. Wishes spoken into the night.
I have a plan. Make enough money so my mama lives a comfortable life like the queen she is.
I can do that. My dreams don’t matter. But I’m going to achieve that one thing.
I’ll buy her a house and I’ll make sure she has everything she wants,” I say fiercely.
“You can’t live for someone else.”
“I have to,” I say simply, my hands curling into fists. “Anyway, I’m going to leave now and we’ll pretend this conversation never happened. Not sure what you got out of it anyway.”
He pushes off the wall and stands in front of me with a bright smile. “Got you to open up, Lil. I’ll take it as a win. Get going, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
I rearrange the jacket hanging over my shoulder and clear my throat, trying to banish all the emotions welling within me.
“Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone.”
“I’ll do my best, captain.”
When he opens the door, the humid smell of the bar wafts out.
It’s not unpleasant and I’ve become used to it after all these years.
The smell of alcohol, citrus and expensive cologne all tangled up together.
It hits me right in the face, though, reminds me who I am and what I have to do.
I don’t have time for idealistic wishes about the future.
I only have here and now. Living in the moment is my motto.
It’s all I’ve got.
The walk home takes me five minutes. It’s efficient, living so close.
I live in a tiny one-bedroom apartment that’s never really felt like home to me.
I’ve been living here since I started working at the bar.
Carlos hooked me up with the place. The apartment is small enough that I could see almost all of it from the doorway.
I shove the door shut with the heel of my sneakers and lean against it for a second.
A sagging olive green couch in a cramped living room, a kitchenette with chipped white cabinets and a single narrow hallway leading to the bedroom.
It’s not exactly an ugly place. It just doesn’t feel like mine.
Cracked paint and scratched wooden floors.
It’s a good enough place for a girl trying to survive in the city.
It holds no real trace of me except for half burnt scented candles lining the windowsill and half written song lyrics on papers scattered across the coffee table.
Then there’s a record player in the corner that I use on nights when the silence becomes too loud.
I could pack up my entire existence and leave at any moment. Maybe I’ll have to one day.
After taking off my sneakers, I head into the bedroom and practically collapse into the bed. It’s my favorite part of the house.
Groaning softly, I think about the fact that the day isn’t over yet.
I was up and out of the house early for my waitressing gig.
After about six hours, I left the restaurant and was heading home to rest when Carlos called and said he was swamped at the bar because of a sudden influx of customers.
There’s usually not a lot of people at the bar during the day.
But since I was the closest employee available I went to help out and I still have to go back again later tonight for my actual shift.
My vision dims slightly, and the hollowness in my stomach reminds me that I haven’t eaten anything since earlier today at the restaurant.
I consider standing up to prepare some food, but I also can’t summon the energy to do it, nor do I feel like wasting the meagre precious time I’ve got.
Luckily, I left half of a granola bar on my nightstand, which I grab and eat before getting my phone to set an alarm to wake me up in two hours, then drift off to sleep.
The lounge sits on the corner of a dimly lit street tucked between a pawn shop and a store that sells used clothes.
From the outside, Zell looks pretty unimpressive.
There’s a fading blue sign above the entrance and dark tinted windows.
On some nights, impatient patrons linger near the door, waiting to get in.
Usually on weekends. But weekdays are slow and most of the time, the patrons we do have, come to see me.
Or at least, hear me.
Soft pop music drifts through the speakers as I walk in.
The bar isn’t some bougie, fancy place but it’s nice enough that it attracts all sorts of clientele.
Carlos is behind the bar at the moment, pouring liquid smoothly while having a conversation with the couple that must have ordered something.
They all laugh at something and I shake my head, watching the smile lines around his face wrinkle.
Carlos is such a people person. He really chose the perfect job.
I note that there aren’t a lot of customers tonight as I approach the bar. One of the part-timers, Bryan, is standing at the edge of the room waiting for any orders or anybody who might beckon with a request.
“Hey, sport,” Carlos acknowledges. “I should have called you not to bother coming. We’re having a slow night it seems.”
He places two drinks in front of the couple and they thank him before heading over to take a seat at the table.
“Slow night, busy day, are we sure this is still a bar?” I ask.
He chuckles gesturing towards the stage tucked into the far corner of the room. It’s small, barely large enough for the microphone stand and piano, but when the spotlight hits it, the entire room seems to narrow around whoever stands there. On some nights, the patrons get to sing karaoke up there.
But usually it’s for me. I spend a huge amount of my time here up on that stage.
“Feel like singing tonight?”
“Nothing else to do, is there? Plus, I even wore a pretty dress,” I state, taking off the coat hanging on my shoulders to reveal my outfit.
It’s a short off shoulder black dress that hugs my every curve. I paired it with sneakers because it’s all I ever really wear. I’ll look sexy any day but I also need mobility for my job.
“You look beautiful, Lily,” Carlos says sweetly. “Head on up there then. I need to head somewhere for a bit but I’ll get Bryan to man the bar until you’re done with your number.”
“No problem,” I tell him.
He grabs my jacket from me to place at the back of the bar while I go up to the stage. I notice some stirring among the patrons, some of our regulars and a smile lights up my lips.
Singing doesn’t feel like work to me. It was different. Intimate in a way nothing else in my life ever managed to be.
When I sing, people listen. I watch as men loosen their shoulders after a hard day. Women smile softly into their drinks. Everyone grows quiet like my voice is a magnetic force wrapping around them and keeping the world and their problems at bay for a while.
I love seeing the effect my voice has on people.
The spotlight warms my skin as I sway gently to the music. My fingers curl around the microphone while my voice drifts through the lounge, smooth as silk. The room blurs together and just like the people listening, a magnetic force wraps around me as well.
It’s only at times like this that I ever come close to understanding myself. Feeling like myself. The music pours out of me like second nature. Just as it always has. I open my mouth and sing a soft ballad, straight from the heart. And just like that life has meaning.
I’m only up there singing for about three minutes when the air shifts almost imperceptibly. I’m not really sure how I feel it.
My eyes drift lazily across the lounge as I sing, taking in familiar faces until the front door opens. And then a man walks in and for the first time ever, the lyrics of the song I’m singing get caught in my throat.
It’s only a second. An impossible second where my eyes widen and I forget where I am. I forget the music, forget the people listening. My eyes narrow onto him and him alone.
And he stares right back at me. I can’t tell the color of his eyes from such a distance but I have a feeling they’re dark. A strange chill crawls down my spine.
One I can’t explain.
My mind whirs as I try to understand why a person I can only aptly refer to as the prince of darkness, just walked into the lounge I work at, at the exact same time I’d been baring my soul in a song.