Lorenzo had booked the local pub, boasting to a few hopefuls that they’d win “oh fifty quid” and have the attention of a hundred people when they performed.
The worst thing that could happen was that they’d be laughed at, although this crowd tended to look away in embarrassment when a no-talent embarrassed themselves.
Lorenzo didn’t know the first thing about music, only that he knew what he liked. So, when a woman would whip out a guitar and play Wonderwall, he’d resist the urge to grab her instrument and smash it against a radiator.
Tonight though, Rebecca Stevenson, the local college darling, promised to deliver some real magic. Rebecca was studying political science and literature, music was but a side gig, and Lorenzo had been assured her songs were amazing.
She gave blood, donated to charity, and had even rushed into a burning building before running out, holding twin babies in her arms, who would have died without her help.
So, all around a decent woman.
Then there was the washed-up Simon Ross slinking to the venue. He’d been a big name in the nineties, only returning to public consciousness when he was Me Too’d.
For Ross had been something of a naughty boy in his youth, ploughing through cocaine and hookers as if they were tissue paper and live on the BBC he had chanted “Gas the Jews!”
The fact that he was found guilty of drugging and raping a thirteen-year-old, pretty much killed off his career. Now out of prison and needing money, he’d show up to any venue that would take him, usually to a chorus of boos whilst he’d slur something about free speech.
*
There was a brief hush when Rebecca with her tight lips and turquoise hair took the stage, ukulele in hand.
“I’m going to sing a song,” she said, “about protecting the environment!”
Right-o, Lorenzo thought, nothing wrong with that. He recycled and believed the scientists on their doomsday warnings.
The college girl breathed out and sang!
And the fillings in Lorenzo’s teeth began vibrating as his pint glass started to crack.
A few dogs lounging around outside, heard the wailings and lifting their heads, howled in harmony.
“PROTECT THE ENVIROMENT! BAD THINGS WILL HAPPEN IF YOU DONNNNNN’TT!”
Rebecca then warbled on with a song about “polyamory!” as the audience forcing their smiles only applauded when she bowed and left the stage.
Lorenzo resisted the urge to shout out, “Stick with politics!”
Now Simon Ross appeared, grinning at the booing and hissing from the crowd. A woman in the front row howled “Fascist pig!” and he replied, “I’m not a pig.”
The man’s fingers melted into the strings, and he made love to his instrument, he played music whilst Rebecca just plucked at the notes.
He sang and goddamn, his voice, silky smooth and pleasing to the ear almost made Lorenzo weep.
“Fuck,” Lorenzo despaired “he’s pure evil but a talented son of a bitch.”
