Katie went to Los Angeles for three years, where she lost twenty pounds and most of her self-esteem. She also had two close calls with record deals and more first dates than she cared to remember, and at the end she slunk back to Georgia with her tail between her legs and a tattoo that she had to get removed. It took a long time, but eventually she could go through an entire day without thinking about notes or chords . Now, she thinks about the latest in her run of asshole boyfriends . Katie thinks about opening up a tattoo parlor where people could get better ink than the train wrecks that marked her ass and thigh for two years. She thinks about work and bills and her stupid car that's been clattering around on the same bum alternator for months . Katie doesn’t think about promises made when she was too young to know that Hollywood lied. Katie doesn’t think that she ought to be a superstar by now. She has a whole list of things that she's very good at not thinking about. Once, she got drunk and color-coded it.
Katie doesn’t think about the tall and devastatingly hot wannabe rock star on the stage right now, for instance, or the way that he keeps looking her way and winking like tha t’s supposed to mean something. (It's not his first time playing the stage. He might be filed under "indigo" on the list. Katie used to hate Open Mic nights for an entirely different reason. ) Billy McGee's isn't a big or prestigious bar, and pretty female bartenders are rare enough that she's used to performers and patrons alike staring at her. Besides, Billy's always nearby if she needs him . She hasn't needed his help in the whole eight months she's been bartending here, but it doesn't hurt to be careful . And anyway, the fact that Ryan--she thinks his name is Ryan-- is really goddamned hot doesn't make it a good idea to encourage him. She still has a sort-of boyfriend (she honestly hopes that she doesn't, though), and Ryan could be a complete freak. You never knew with musicians
Katie is definitely not thinking about taking him on the offer if he ever makes it with more than his eyes . Damn, she hopes she and Paul are over. He hasn't been to the house in a week, that means something, right? She's so pathetic that she can't even break up with a guy, or tell when he's broken up with her .
Katie focuses so hard on not thinking that she screws up three drinks in a row and gets a set of raised eyebrows from Billy. Flushing, she grabs another set of glasses, tries again, and manages a margarita that probably won't peel her customer's gums off. The next order is a draft beer . Katie concentrates on getting the foam just right rather than the sexy, bluesy rumble coming from the stage, with little success. Ryan has a voice that curls against the back of her neck and down into her belly, lower; Katie shivers and licks a stray trace of beer from the back of her hand. S he hardly even notices when a whole group of guys who are maybe, maybe eighteen come stumbling through the door. She does look up, finally, when one of them collides with first a chair, then a table when he tries to right himself from that mistake, and goes all the way down to the floor by way of one of the waitresses . She squawks and catches herself just in time. D rinks go everywhere.
Katie sighs and makes eyes with Billy over the mess . She feels her eyebrows going up: you actually let them in? He shrugs back at her. So either all of those guys just look so painfully young that they’re going to be carded at thirty-five, or th eir fake IDs are damned good and Billy decided to just ro ll with it and see what happens next . Katie herself is barely old enough to be working in here. That doesn't leave her much room to talk, even though most days she feels older .
One of the guys, not the one who just ruined his waitress's night , laughs as he grabs his buddy's arm and bodily drags him towards the nearest empty table . Katie takes a
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