Retrospective: Paris - How we started

1.7 Francesco De la Cruz - Sing
Spring 1993, a bar in Paris

Francesco wanted to punch himself. Again his temper had gotten the better of him, and he had blown everything. If he could be a whore for Suzette the last three months, he could have been so for a little longer. At least long enough to get his own place, and then look for another job.

Now he was just back at square zero. He might have saved enough to barely pay the deposit for a tiny place in Paris, but not even for the first rent. The prices here were insane.
Apart that noone would rent out to him without proof of a steady sufficient income.
Which he hadn't anymore, because Suzette would make sure he couldn't even set a foot inside the studio. Ever.

But what was worse, he realized that he could completely forget a career in pop music in France. It didn't matter how hard he tried anymore.
Still, he definitely wouldn't go back to beg her forgiveness. Not in this life time.
What a mess.

And that howling of the poor excuse of a live singer in the pub didn't help raising his mood at all. He ruined one of his favourite songs completely.

"Seriously, can you tell that idot on the stage to stop his whining?!", he snapped at the barkeeper.
The older man gave him a confused look, then laughed.

"You think you can do it better, kid?", he asked him with a mocking smirk.
"Of course I can", Francesco grumbled.

Instead of a reply, the man yelled over to the stage. "Hé, Marcel! Let the gamin here take your place for a while and come get a drink!"

He turned back to Francesco. "Now show me", he grinned.
Was he serious?

But when that idiot from the stage came down to him, stupid grin all over his face, and hand him the micro, he knew they were.

Hell yeah. Most likely they just wanted to see him embarrassing himself, but he didn't care.
He could sing. On a stage. That was what mattered. 

And so he did. He loved "somewhere over the rainbow", and even more caressing the the tune with his voice.

When he finished, he found the barkeeper and that idiot staring at him. The old man started to slowly clap his hands.
Francesco felt a tickling in his stomach. This was awesome. If Suzette was right about one thing, he did love the stage.

If this felt already so great, he could only imagine how it would feel standing on a big stage, surrounded by thousands of people cheering.
He didn't feel like giving up on this. Not yet.

When he went back to the bar, the barkeeper adressed him again.

"You sure got some talent going on, kid", he said. "Look, my boss here is really fond of his cousin, but I know a guy that keeps looking for a decent singer for his pub for a while now. It's not big, and in a bad place, but if you're in the mood for it..."

"Where?", Francesco asked. Was he offering him a job as a singer? This was too good to be true. He never had thought about live entertainment like this, but it was better than nothing. No, it was still great. 

The barkeeper noted the address down on a napkin, still talking.
"I'll call him so he knows you're coming. Payment is cash on hand, you sing, you get payed, you don't show up, you don't. And if the cops catch you for moonlighting, it's your problem."

Francesco's bad mood was completely blown away. He still had no real job, nor a place to live, but he couldn't believe how incredibly lucky he was to be able to do what he loved.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he almost ran into the person that was about to enter the bar.
"You..."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note:

Present Franco would like to give you his greetings too.

Please don't disappoint him!

credit to Maladi777

Read her story! It's great c: