The Solo Artist

She paid for her ticket at the door and slipped into the smaller room of the club. At venues like this, larger rooms were reserved for bigger gigs, like Dangerous Faith, Mama Roach or Running with Scissors, but for up-and-coming artists and exclusive, private performances, smaller rooms were available to provide a cozier, more intimate musical experience. This particular room could barely fit 500, and looking over the crowd, she guessed it was probably just under half full.

She grinned to herself. She had heard him sing before, so she doubted that rooms like this would stay half full once he got his solo career rolling.

As the lights dimmed, signifying that the show was about to start, she hung near the back of the room in an attempt to go unnoticed. They were friends, but she didn't know him as well as she'd like, and attending his concert uninvited, she felt like she was intruding. Hopefully, she'd be able to slip out after the show as quickly as she slipped in.

He burst onto the stage full of energy, and the crowd was eating out of his hands in an instant. Smiling, she suspected most of his fans were carry-overs from his previous career as the bassist for one of the top 40 rock bands in the world. His stage presence certainly showed his roots. An audience of 200 or a throng of 10,000, he probably would have gone all out for the crowd just the same.

The show progressed with the audience fully enthralled, chanting and cheering and lost in the energy of the performance.

For herself, she tried to keep her cringing internal. Being a musician as well, her own knowledge and experience, which would normally be beneficial in most circumstances, kept her from getting completely lost in the moment and fully enjoying the show. She tried to ignore it, but something was... missing.

He had the stage presence, the talent, the charisma, the skill, but she could hear it in the songs that his performance was suffering musically. His repetoire didn't fit his solo style. Designed for a larger band, his musical selection sounded empty, hollow, almost lonely. He needed a completely new repetoire; something customized especially for him, something to emphasize his skills and strengths, not bring attention to what he had lost by deciding to go solo with his musical career.

Still, what he lacked in the music, he more than made up for in his presence and showmanship, she noticed as she watched the crowd surge towards the stage as he leaned down to shake hands with the audience. She wished she could captivate her own fans even half as well as he did his.

When the show ended, she began to make her way to the exit along with the other patrons, but stopped in her tracks when she thought she heard someone call her name. Looking around, she saw him waving as he approached. Escaping unnoticed was now out of the question.

They smiled as they greeted each other and talked a bit, laughed a little, but not for long. He had to leave for New York in less than an hour. Somewhere in that short conversation, they managed to agree to discuss 'price-gouging capitalists' over lunch.

As they parted ways, she couldn't help but wonder if that was his weird way of asking her out on a date.