We Were Greedy

Chap. 4: Talk

Chapter 4

Talk

Later that day, much later that day, after having visited a dead leaves covered central park and having eaten quite a few hot-dogs for dinner, we decided to go visit a pub, or should I say a bar.

"So, how do things work?" I asked as we walked down the street.

"Uh?" Was his only answer as he looked down to me.

I looked back up at him. "How do you, we, you- find people. or whatever it is that you do?" I stammered out.

He chuckled. "Well, it all depends on what the client wants. Usually I go to pubs where they have people playing I listen for a while, if I like it I meet them, if I don't then I leave as simple as that. It becomes harder when the client wants something specific, I have to dig deeper, pop singers don't usually hang out in pubs. I've seen countless school talent shows, but Atlantic didn't say anything so we have qwartey blentch." He explained.

I laughed at his pitiful try to speak french. "It's carte blanche."  I corrected him and he raised his eyebrows at me as he pursued his lips.

"Mademoiselle, speaks French?" He asked, his english accent thick on the first word.

"Mieux que toi, ça c'est sûr." I answered.

"I have absolutely no idea what that meant." He chuckled.

"It meant: Better than you, that's for sure." I explained and he smiled back at me.

"Where did you learn?" He asked.

"My grandmother, Patricia, lives in France. Since I'm 5 I always visit her at least a week per year. And when my parents died, I was only 17, so I lived with her until I was 18. That's where I learned." I told him putting my hands in the pockets of my coat.

"I didn't know about your parents.. I'm sorry to hear that." He said.

"It's not your fault Dan." I answered giving him a small smile.

We talked a bit more about our families until we finally reached the pub and he held the door for me..

The place was small, but nicely decorated and cozy.

We both sat in a booth, side by side, facing the small stage. We chit chatted a while over a drink and waited for the artist to finally begin his little gig.

"So now, what do we do?" I asked as the guy started to set up his things.

"What do you mean?" He asked back. "We sit and watch, that's all." He chuckled at my frowning expression. "You can relax Nora, we're just here to have a good time, we're not deciding the fate of this guy over there." He teased, smiling.

"How reassuring." I answered sarcastically.

"But I'm serious though. We're just two people, enjoying a beer in a pub. No stress no nothing."  He said as the singer finally spoke up.

He presented himself awkwardly and started strumming on his guitar.

He was a fairly good guitarist, but when he started singing, his voice was incredibly shaky.

"He's really nervous." Daniel leaned over to whisper to me. "He'll probably warm up after one song or two." He explained and I nodded.

We both stayed silent until the song ended and clapped with the others. I was about to speak up as the guy started a new song when I noticed the look on Daniel's face.

His traits were plastered with concentration, his eyebrows drawn in, his big blue eyes fixed on the man with intensity. His head ever so lightly rocked with the beat of the music   and I couldn't help but smile at his expression.