Night Out

The corridor was dark and dimly lit, but not enough to mask the paint that chipped off the grimy, stained walls. The air was thick with smoke and the idle chitchat of raucous youth, which grew with every step he took. Gripping the banister to help guide him through the shadows, each stair delivered Tom deeper into the unknown. Pulling back the curtain, music and chatter crashed against one other like waves against the shore. Once he stepped into the nightclub, he was swallowed whole, disappearing into the crowd.

Unable to score himself a table near the stage, Tom wandered over to the bar. "I work for Parlophone!" he shouted at the bartender, hoping it carried enough cachet to earn him a free drink. No one needed to know he was merely an accountant and that today was his first day. A new country, a new home, a new life. The bartender stared for a moment before setting down the glass he was drying, placing it in front Tom. "Come to see the show, eh? The record men, they'll never catch Sophie!" He laughed heartily and poured whiskey into the glass. "Here, you'll need this."

It was then that the house lights dimmed and a hush fell over the crowd. From the darkness a voice broke the silence, a voice heavy with melancholy and misery. "I've never been so happy. Baby, with you I'm happy..." Piano and drums kicked in and a spotlight illuminated the stage. Sophie was unlike any of the sweet, innocent Yé-Yé Girls that flooded the live music scene. Her singing was more like the song of a caged bird. Tom watched in a trance, only woken by the burn of his whiskey. The bartender refilled his glass. "See, I told you."