Ash was still grinning by the time the intro started. When Mitri’s voice resonated through the speakers, that grin only broadened. He was really quite clever, and
confident. She found it sexy, that confidence; as well as the playful spark in his too-pretty eyes. Never-even-mind how good he sounded.
Really good.
Adam had never been willing to do more than just watch when it came to karaoke. The thought served to sober her a degree, but her revelry was soon renewed amidst Mitri’s shutterbug charade. She promptly burst into a bright spate of laughter, and struck a little pose - fingers curling to form a loose fist beneath her chin as she angled her head to put forth her
good side.
She watched with no small measure of captivation; effectively charmed by his performance, and smiling so wide that her cheeks had begun to ache. When his song finally ended, she snapped out of the enchantment. “I’m supposed to follow that?” Came her good-humored inquiry, before she leaned forward to select from the directory. Something she was familiar with, to get her warmed up.
“Test,” she spoke into her microphone as the prelude to
Maneater played, and scooted out of the booth to take to ‘stage’. Aislin swayed in appropriate eighties fashion; shimmying her shoulders and snapping the fingers of her free hand in time with the song’s drumline. When it finally came time to sing, she proved only half-decent; capable of carrying a tune, but lacking any actual talent.
“
She’ll only come out at night; the lean and hungry type. Nothing is new, I’ve seen her here before... Watching and waiting; oh, she’s sitting with you, but her eyes are on the door...” With two fingers, Ash pointed toward her eyes, then gestured toward the door.
She didn’t possess the same measure of confidence that Mitri did; evidenced by the way she kept her gaze fixed upon the lyrics on screen. Of course, she knew all of the words by heart - but found it easier to perform by feigning solitude. By the time she reached the chorus, “
Ooh, here she comes; watch out boy, she’ll chew you up. Ooh, here she comes; she’s a maneater,” her nerve had risen, and she cast a few fleeting glances his way.
The musical break was spent in goofy dance. Folly aside, her capacity for dance far exceeded that of her singing. She moon-walked her way across the small space, played the air-sax, and maintained the rhythmic motion of her shoulders; all like no one else was in the room watching. When the song finally tapered off with a succession of belted, “
Watch out’s,” she plopped back down to the bench to catch her breath.
