The karaoke bar's neon glow beckoned, its pulsating music a siren call to laughter and song. The group surged forward, a boisterous wave of anticipation, but Nathan's sudden halt before the entrance threw a wrench in their momentum. He fumbled with his phone, a frown creasing his brow.
"Something wrong?" Abbegale asked, concern tingeing her voice.
Nathan offered a tight smile. "Just a last-minute family thing. Won't be staying long, unfortunately."
Disappointment flickered across the group, but understanding prevailed. As Nathan hurried away, the remaining friends pushed open the doors, the familiar hum of the karaoke machine greeting them like an old friend.
Chinny, ever the instigator, was already lobbying Kiara to conquer the mic with Beyoncé's "Pretty Hurts." Kiara, hesitant at first, melted under the weight of Chinny's persistence and the encouraging cheers of their friends. Soon, the opening chords of the song filled the air, Kiara's voice soaring with a raw vulnerability that resonated deep within Abbegale.
As the lyrics unfolded, a strange melancholy washed over Abbegale. "Are you happy with yourself?" the song echoed in her mind, the question a mirror reflecting her own uncertainties. Lost in the melody, she mumbled an incoherent reply, the words catching on the rough edges of her own insecurities.
Clapping erupted, pulling Abbegale back to reality. She joined the applause, the sound a balm to her sudden vulnerability. Kiara, catching her eye, winked and whispered, "Use your voice to enchant him."
Abbegale's cheeks flushed. "Enchant him? Kiara, I can barely hold a conversation without tripping over my tongue, let alone sing my heart out!"
"You'll do great," Chinny chimed in, her voice brimming with unwavering confidence. "What are you waiting for, sis? Take the stage!"
"Taking a deep breath, she scanned the song list, finally settling on the fiery energy of Sam Smith's "Fire on Fire."
As the familiar beat pulsed through the speakers, Abbegale stepped onto the stage. Her gaze found Gio, his posture relaxed, his eyes fixed on her with an unexpected intensity. With a nervous flutter in her chest, she began to sing.
"My mother said I'm too romantic," her voice echoed, raw and honest, poured into the microphone, each word a brushstroke on the canvas of the night. As she reached the chorus, her eyes met Gio's. He was leaning back, his gaze unreadable, a flicker of something passing through his eyes before it vanished. Yet, she held his gaze, her voice a confession unknown:
"I don't say a word, but still, you take my breath and steal the things I know. There you go, saving me from out of the cold."she sang, her gaze unwavering from Gio's, the space between them vibrating with a silent conversation.
Something flickered in Gio's eyes, a spark momentarily captured before retreating behind the veil of his usual coolness. Abbegale, fueled by the song and the unspoken connection, sang on, her voice a weapon unfurled, a declaration of her desires.
When the final note faded, the bar erupted in applause. But Abbegale's ears could only hearthe echoes of her own song, the rhythm of her heartbeat, and the lingering gaze of Gio, leaving her heart ablaze with a thousand unasked questions and untold hopes.