On the House {Kire}

It was his night to perform at the club, one of only a handful of places where there was anything entertaining going on. Now it was his turn once again to be that entertainment. The sunglasses hiding his eyes from view made the whole place about twice as hard to see around, but it wouldn't become a problem until they really turned the lights down low. At the moment, they were kinda useful against the glare of the spotlight on him. He would take not being able to define the size of his audience against staring at people who were staring right back. Since he wasn't much of one to interact with others, the best they were going to get was watching him stare at a wall as he played his guitar and sang.

Except his eyes kept slipping away from picking that one spot on the wall. A server, newer than the others so he didn't know her name yet, picked her way through the already decent crowd. The skimpy outfit she and the other waitresses had been given didn't help to avert his eyes. Now the sunglasses served another purpose - they kept him from looking like a creep. There would be no way his shades would be coming off tonight, not if scantily dressed women were going to be walking around where he could spot them.

He finished setting up the mic, trying to keep focused though it was hard. Perching himself on his stool, a three-legged thing he always used despite being offered better, he sat his guitar in his lap and checked the tuning. He had done it so many times that he didn't have to look anymore, adjusting a peg here or there so the string's tones all blended nicely together. It was a good thing, because the girl was back. His eyes followed her behind the tinted lenses of his glasses, watching as she set a man's order on the table, then looked up at the stage. She then began to walk back toward the kitchen. Except instead of taking the shorter route behind all of the tables, she moved towards the little stage he sat on, winding her way between them as easily as a cat walking through a fence.

He over adjusted the bottom string, the high pitched ping it made now sharper than the notes the others made. Quickly fixing it, he maintained his gaze on the waitress. To his surprise, she now looked at him, holding his gaze though she didn't know it. He couldn't bring himself to look away and had to try hard to keep his head facing straight instead of following her movement. There was an empty drink on a table near the front of the stage, and the serving girl bent down to grab it, making no small show of herself as she did. Curtus swallowed, clearing his throat as he ran over a list of songs in his head. Eventually he selected one and began to play, his fingers forming the chords as easily as if he had been born with a guitar in his hands.

"All I wonder, if my night is gonna change
Lights moving, bodies grooving but I can not feel a thing
I've got one step through the door
Then I hear auuuuuu"

Originally, he had planned on playing this later, but it had sparked to his mind as he searched for songs. He strummed easily, his right foot tapping out the beat as he sunk into the song.

"Like gravity pulling me in
I'm sinking in this space within
I can't help but giving in to this stranger with no name
Dancing like a flame, like a moth, I cannot be turned away"

His whole body began to move subtly to the beat as he sang, keeping him in time. Out of habit, his eyes slid away from the waitress and to their traditional spot on the wall. Still, every now and then he would sneak a glance at her.

His eyes followed the girl as she finally reached the kitchen, her detour over. They zipped back to their spot as she disappeared inside, his voice still coasting over the crowd. Some of the men around looked somewhat bored, but he paid them no mind. It was hard to see their expressions as it was and with as little of a care as he paid them it made no difference to him. He had gone through a chunk of the song as the waitress had made her way away from him, and he noticed there wasn't much left. It would be his break after this song, another performer would hop up on stage for a change of music. Perhaps that was a good thing, he felt a little uncomfortable on the stage tonight.

"I love your moves, I like your style
With them hips you drive me wild
I'm the puppet to your strings
You keep on moving me"

He searched for her, looked for her form weaving its way between the slowly growing crowd. He only served as the opening act, his songs didn't have enough of a flair for the later club scene, but many people came in during his performance. Was she going to spend the rest of his song in the kitchen. Perhaps she didn't like his voice? It stung, though it shouldn't, that she might be avoiding his singing.

"Into a world you keep on turning
Turning for me now
Everything we have is moving down down down
We just keep on grooving all down down down"

Then he noticed her push through the kitchen door and relaxed slightly. However, his relaxed posture faded some as she drew closer. Something about her presence caused an odd feeling in his gut and he once again did his best not to show he was staring.

"Leave me, take me so far from here, sweetly"

As she came close she turned her face towards him and he looked into her eyes. She unknowingly was holding his gaze, keeping him from retreating to his safe place of staring at the wall. It was getting a little hard to sing but he tried to hold his voice steady. The lump in his throat wasn't helping.

"Do what you do, and do what you will
Let me get down, take a hold of the wheel
Let me drive you crazy"

Her smile was making him want to shift on his stool, though that would cause a break in his sound so he had to sit and simply move to the beat of the music. When she winked he gulped, praying the sound didn't carry over the microphone and thankful there had been a moments pause in the words.

"Do what you do, and do what you will
Let me get down, I'll be all that you feel
I'll let you drive me crazy"

His eyes continued to follow her as she walked to one of the booths in the corner. He had to turn his head slightly to keep her in his view, but there was no way he could keep himself from doing it. Watching her out of the corner of his eye he almost hissed as she slid the straps of her bra off her shoulders.

"Do what you do, and do what you will
Let me get down, take a hold of the wheel
Baby let me drive you crazy"

He couldn't help it now, he turned his head to look at her full on. He watched as her hands moved to her shorts and tugged them down a bit. Swallowing, he wished the song would go faster, but to change the tempo would make him look unprofessional.

"Do what you do, and do what you will
Let me get down, I'll be all that you feel
I'll let you drive me"

He was almost at the end, two more lines and he would be able to take a break. It couldn't come too soon because he was feeling more than a little hot under the collar. Pulling his gaze away from the girl's now further exposed form, he centered himself into his usual position and finished his strumming as the last words fell from his mouth like hot stones.

"Oh say oh
I'll let you drive me crazy"

As the people in the crowd - or at least those who weren't already too drunk - clapped, he rushed to get himself packed up as the group performing next came over to set themselves set up. The lead singer gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before helping to carry one of the amps into a better position. Silently, Curt snuck off the stage and placed his guitar in its case. Taking a moment to breathe as he kneeled before his most prized possession, he attempting to steady himself some. Slowly he straightened and grabbed at the handle of the case, lifting it to his side as he turned and began to walk along the wall towards the girl. The booth she was by was empty and he shoved his guitar gently under the table before sitting on the edge of the seat, fully facing the girl. Silently he looked at her, eyes still shaded by his sunglasses. He couldn't bring himself to say anything - his lack of socials skills shining through once again - so he sat quietly, staring. What was it about her that pricked him like a thorn in the side, bringing as much irritation as a sense of alertness. As sweet as a rose smelled, it had a wicked bite.