Second Chances : Chapter 8
#5 of Ar
Author's Note - Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up, I'm really worried that the way I incorperated the song into the story is annoying. So please comment, I really didn't want to leave it as a block of lyrics so please let me know if this layout is confusing. No matter how many times I revise I really don't know for sure until I put it out there and readers comment. As always I want to thank everyone for their favs/watchs/votes and especially the comments. I also want to thank Sam softpaw for editing this chapter :D, you're great man! Oh and this seires does deal with gay themes so yada, yada (I put these things in the tags for a reason people :P).
For some reason most people have the vague perception that as soon as a performer steps on stage that some sort of magic just happens. I really wish that were true. Stepping onstage while you're still you is quite possibly one of the most frightening moments of my life. Every. Single. Time. I once asked a more experienced performer if these 'butterflies' ever go away. She just laughed and said 'you only learn how to cope with them better.' So then that begs the question, 'why do I relish every chance I get to go onto that dreadful stage and perform?' The answer is simply, that is where the characters I will become live. Basically these characters are like spirits to me, floating around stages and all it takes is someone who's willing. Someone who is willing to breathe themselves out into the air and take in the patiently waiting spirits, and the person whose body it is, no longer has to be themselves. They are now entirely someone different, and I hate being me. I'd rather be anyone else other than me. ANYONE.
So I let out a breath. I let out myself. I breathe in. I let the Black Cat in to take hold of my body. This will be the person who is singing lead over Orange Cat. This is where he lived, inside Kats, inside the 'Stray Cat Strut,' confidence now oozing from every pore of my body. Black Cat's temporary home.
Orange Cat started in on his 'oohs,' eight counts later I join him, this time is different from all the other times, I decide to add a harmony. Orange Cats ears perk up; he gets a sly smile and glances at me from the corner of his eye. Tonight my performance was going to blow Luke away. Wait, Luke? Luke is Rose's problem, not Black Cats, got to watch myself.
I start in, "Black and Orange stray cat sittin' on a fence,"
Orange cat follows, "Aint got enough dough to pay the rent/ I'm flat broke but I don't care."
"I strut right by with my tail in the air," when I sing this I take the tip of my long tail and flick the end of Orange Cat's nose as I walk right in front of him. Only Black Cat would be confident enough to upstage Orange Cat, Rose? Ha! Never.
"Stray cat strut I'm a-," Orange Cat points to the back corner of the bar where he knows some of the 'good' singers are seated.
"-Ladies Cat," the hodgepodge calls back to the stage.
"I'm a feline Casanova-," I jump in and point to the same group in the back and am rewarded with a, "Hey! Man that's that," from the same group.
"Get a shoe thrown at me from a mean old man," Orange cat sings out.
I make a faux frowning face as I sing, "gettin' my dinner from a garbage can." Orange Cat lets out a loud 'meow' into his mike and I yell out, "yeah don't cross my path," a few beats later. This is where the first and shorter of the two instrumental breaks is and where things start to get a little... interesting. Usually Orange Cat and I do a playful dance with each other but, it seems the overzealous lion has other plans this time around. He came up behind me and put his arms around my neck, letting his mic flop down, sufficiently far away so it wouldn't pick up what we were saying. He brought his muzzle up close to my ear and whispered, "Who's the guy?" he then proceeded to interrupt me before I could respond, "I mean you taking the lead, which I have no problems with but, harmonies too?" he only paused to giggle softly, "it seems you got 'it' bad." I couldn't even respond. I was too busy doing my best to keep Rose out, out of my body. I was completely unsuccessful as my thoughts started to race, 'how did he know I was gay?' 'He already knew I liked Luke?' "What was he going to do about this situation?' Thankfully before my thoughts could completely break my concentration the next line came up.
"I don't bother chasing mice around," I sang forcefully, hoping to force my character back into me. The next few lines went normally as if nothing happened and I did my best not to think about the next instrumental break. The one where the 'lead' usually picks someone from the audience to bring up to the stage and we dance with them. It came up quicker than I anticipated, most things like this usually do.
"If you don't bring your friend up here for his dance I'll push you to him," Orange Cat coyly said. He said it so nonchalantly as if what he said were something that was only normal to say to a fellow performer! It also was kinda the push I needed to actually do it. I would be lying if I said I wasn't already wanting to pull him onstage, throw him in a chair, and show him what my 'dance' could do for him. So I did it, I walked calmly and slowly down to Luke and grabbed his paw, forcing him up to his foot-paws. His mouth already slack jawed and slightly agape, from my performance I'm guessing, so his equally stunned body was easy to manoeuvre up to the stage. My free paw grabbed the chair he was sitting in and dragged it to the stage with us. When we got up there I put the chair centre stage and shoved him playfully into it. Usually Orange Cat picks a female for the 'lead', usually him, to grind up against so I was waiting for the gasp. I was waiting for the 'boos' or the 'get off-stage faggot' but either they never came or the music was too loud for me to hear them. This I was eternally grateful for as I started my playful dance, occasionally rubbing up against Luke. Rose at this point was leaking through, in all honesty if he hadn't been the dance would've been a lot more... lewd.
"I don't bother chasing mice around," I sang while tracing a blunt nail across Luke's well formed chest. It was all I could do to keep myself from shivering at the very prospect of touching him like this.
"I slink through the alley lookin' for a fight," Orange Cat reciprocated.
"Howling to the moonlight on a hot summer night," I sang, bracing myself for what was coming next. The next line I was going to belt, it was a little low for me to belt but what the hell, why not. In fact all of the 'Stray Cat Strut' is near the bottom of my clearly tenor range but this was my last chance to drive home to Luke how 'impressive' my performance is. That also meant though I could stumble on the note and ruin the illusion, so it really was a make or break moment and I had to go for it, "singin' the blues while my lady cats cry," I was elated I hit it with that much force. That much passion. I freaking did it, take that mister 'least experienced tenor in musical theatre'. I was ecstatic as we drew the song to a close with Orange Cat and I both singing the last line in harmony and a little bit slower than the original group intended "but, I got cat class and I got cat style."
The song ended and the audience erupted in applause, those who didn't come on Fridays and see us do this normally with a lot more enthusiasm than those used to seeing us perform, and it felt good. Wait, something's wrong though, where is the relief? Where is the dropping of the character, where I'm so drained emotionally I practically have to drag myself back to my seat? Suddenly the answer hit me, it's because these emotions aren't the pent up ones I needed to release. Usually I'm frustrated with pent up sexual energy, not being able to truly express my feelings, but this time I'm stuck. I searched within myself for a moment as the applause died down. I knew what I needed to do but, in order to do it I'd have to break my number 1 rule. The MOST important rule about using the stage as emotional release, that is never EVER use yourself as the character. If you expose yourself to a group of people like that you're extremely vulnerable, if people don't like a performance you give with a different character you can just say that the audience didn't like the 'character'. If the audience hates the 'character' and it's just you though, the emotional strain of the simultaneous rejection of a little over a hundred people at once can hurt. A lot. After how unstable I was already, especially after my suicide attempt, was I really going to take that risk? Could I afford to take the risk of possibly a complete shut down after that sort of emotional scar?
Yes.
I was going to break my number one rule for Luke, not only myself. I needed with every fibre of my being to tell Luke how I felt about him, how my emotions for him were just eating me alive, and every second of every day. Was I scared when I put my paw on Luke's shoulder to keep him from taking his seat after the applause completely dissipated? Absolutely. How nervous was I when I brought the mic back to my muzzle and squeaked out, "hey Jerry?" More nervous than anyone else in the world. Did I go through with it?
"Jerry can I ask you a favour? And a favour of the person next up. I don't normally do this but I was wondering if I could give you guys an encore?" I asked this slowly, carefully, and pleadingly as Jerry nodded to me and a Rottweiler from the group in the back of the bar gave me a 'thumbs up' sign.
"What song you need?" Jerry asked in that energetic voice I had grown jealous, and yet fond of. I took a deep breath and tried to gain confidence in my decision. Rose's decision. Rose's decision and no one else's.