Stars

  

His stars must have been aligned just right. Allison Teale had just witnessed his gig – and he’d torn the place up. Emboldened by a couple of pints and whiskies he’d got up and sung his three songs with great poise and passion; he’d replicated how he’d sung in his own bedroom for years when he hadn’t had the bottle to do it in public. His guitar-playing and his voice had infused, became one animal. At one point he’d felt the music rise like a bird and the power of it had enraptured the audience who had roared and clapped at the end. And then...

Allison Teale. Sultry and beautiful; the object of his affection and desire when he’d worked in the job centre with her. He was known as a mild, harmless flirt with many of the women in the office, he enjoyed making them laugh, but...with Allison Teale he became all tongue-tied, the rhythm of his speech became awkward. Just to be in her company it seemed, wiped his brain of his usual material, his one-liners sounded stupid, sometimes bordering on crude.

Anyway, it was well known she was spoken for. She lived with some Steve bloke, also a musician, and she was always bumming him up on Facebook – Steve’s playing this club, Steve this and that. He’d never met Steve, but he despised the man.

But she’d seen his performance and was now standing in front of him.

-what’s this Davie MacCallum all about, Mister Wylie?

-o hi Allison! Didn’t know you were in..

-I’m asking, what’s with the stage name?

-o you know, for tax reasons..

She smiled at this – you were terrific, absolutely brilliant. I didn’t realise...

He could tell that she meant this, she was looking him in a way he was unused to being looked at by Allison Teale. It sent lightning sparks of pleasure to many of the right places, not least wherever his ego lived.

Just to enhance the illusion of his new-found superstardom a man interrupted their conversation to politely ask for his autograph. Davie wondered if the man was kidding, this was an open mic night in a pub in Edinburgh for goodness sake, why would anyone want his autograph? Seeing the man was ardent in his wish Davie duly signed. He glowed inside with the thought of how this would surely look to Allison. This was impressive. Women liked impressive.

She said that she was with a group of work-mates and asked if he would like to join their company. All the while he’s getting ‘bloody great mate’ and ‘loved your songs’ from people in the pub. He felt like he was walking on air and thought to himself that if his life ended tonight then he was quite satisfied.

He was introduced to her friends; three smiling females, and one slightly scunnered looking bloke. Blokes don’t like other blokes impressing females they happen to be in the company of. If his nose had been any further out of joint he’d have required corrective surgery. Dave was delighted about this, for once it wasn’t him being introduced to the impressive bloke.

They all said how good they’d thought he’d been, compliments he accepted demurely and with due reticence. Inside he was screaming ‘yes ya beauty!’

A couple of people came over with pints for him and claps on the back to indicate their appreciation of his performance. He accepted these graciously. The fella who ran the Open Mic came over to express his liking of his act and asked Davie if he’d consider doing the half hour spot in three weeks time. Davie said he’d be delighted. The bloke followed on by saying he didn’t usually offer this spot to people after just one performance but would make an exception in Davie’s case so good did he think he was. Allison Teale and her mates were all listening to this – he wondered if perhaps he was dreaming?

After the bloke had gone he’d joked with Allison and her friends that all these compliments were just so he would buy a round which he got up to do. At the bar he glanced around and saw Allison was looking at him.

She was impressed.

The night wore on and the drink flowed. He found that Allison Teale was keen to monopolise his company and they talked and laughed a lot. They laughed about Facebook and the fact that they were friends on their along with a good many others from the job centre. She asked if he was aware that she no longer lived with Stevie and that they had finished for good. He faked concern and sympathy at this news while inside he screamed ‘yes ya beauty!’ Being the person he was though he did feel genuine sympathy with the pain this had caused her. He expressed empathy with her plight by telling her how badly he’d felt at the break-up of his last relationship. She enquired about the reasons for this and he made her smile when he said he’d need to write a book about his love life so intricate and unfortunate was it.

When she said again that she was unaware of his musical talents he asked was she not aware of his myspace site, a link for which was always prominent on his Facebook page? She said she was unaware of it. He didn’t know if it was the drink or a growing and very pleasurable knowledge that they were enjoying their intimacy but he found himself telling her of his disappointment that she was one of the few of his Facebook friends who hadn’t listened to any of the songs on his myspace site. He told her that Sami and Meeta and Else and Mags from the job centre had listened one evening and had regaled him with compliments on his songs and his singing and still she, Allison Teale, had not listened. He also told her that anytime that he saw her little green ‘chat’ dot meaning she was online he would re-post the link to his myspace site in the hope she would stumble on it, but she hadn’t. He told her that the only one of his Facebook friends that he badly wanted to hear his songs was very nearly the only one who hadn’t.

He was telling her that he sought her attention.

Out of propriety she turned her attention to her friends while he shared a laugh with the people sat at the table next to them. He was on good form and his comments and one-liners were raising guffaws. They seemed to want to court his attention and be associated with him in this way. It seemed clear that this was because of the stir his performance had caused. He thought back at the power he’d felt up there in front of the mic. He now knew what the phrase ‘having an audience in the palm of your hands’ meant. He’d sang the words perfectly and with nuance. He’d played his guitar expressively and was note-perfect. He hadn’t felt it was possible to sing a wrong note or fluff a chord. He was in total control. And he hadn’t been aware of her presence. Probably if he had have been it would have made him nervous, possibly marred his performance. What a stroke of luck he’d had.

His stars must have been in perfect alignment.