Mr Thompson's Pub and Cabaret

"One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four." Greggory snapped along to the tempo of Ryan's song, keeping time as Brendon played the intro. Once they had gotten to the chorus, Greggory cut him off.

"How does that sound?" he asked Mr. Thompson, although Brendon believed he should have been asking Ryan.

"Good, good. Now try it on your own," he told Brendon, who nodded and on Greggory's count came in, but hadn't gotten past the first measure before messing up.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Let me try it again."

Greggory counted in him for a third time, and this time as he played he sang along with the lyrics Ryan had written, because that had been how he'd played it at home while practicing. As each word fell from his mouth with perfect ununciation, each face contorted from boredum to one of surprise. Occasionally people would glance over to Vera, whos arms were tightly crossed over her chest, her lips tight, because no one was supposed to be as good as her, especially not a guitarist.

Once again, at the chorus, Greggory cut him off, and the dancers and musicians applauded him. Brendon seemed shocked because he'd hardly noticed he'd been singing, as it had just come as habit by now. HIs voice just came naturally.

"Brendon, may I see you in my office?" Mr. Thompson asked, waving him towards the backstage.

He set down his accordion hesitantly and followed him into the back room, sitting in front of the desk.

"You never mentioned you could sing, Brendon."

He cleared his throat. "I didn't think it would matter, sir."

Mr. Thompson chuckled slightly. "Didn't think it mattered? It might not have if you worked in an office, but you're at a cabaret. This isn't a cubical. And a voice like that shouldn't go without being recognized." He looked down at a sheet of music laying down in front of him. "Now tell me, do you have any experience with theater?"

"Yes sir."

"How about dancing?"

"Yes sir."

"Brendon please, enough with this 'sir' nonsence. Call me Rodger."

Call him Rodger. Was that all it took? A chance to show he had a voice and now he was a favorite? Jon had been here for a year and Brendon just a few days, and yet his situation was already one of higher standards.

Rodger nodded. "Yes, yes, this will work. We'll have to work things out a little, move some instruments around, but I can't imagine that being too much of a problem. Burendon' I think you should sing this song."

"You...you do? You think I should sing it? What about Vera?"

"Vera has hundreds of songs she's sung and will sing. You on the other hand, you're a fresh new voice and well suited for this song. If we just add a little bit of dynamics and some movement, it will be perfect. We can talk to Lady Ellen about that." Rodger was standing now, walking around his office, thinking out loud. "And if we just have a few more songs that will fit your voice, you and Vera can share the spotlight!" He opened the door of his office. "Run over the words some more and we'll have practice another day."

Brendon was shooed out of the room and made his way out onto the stage, where everyone looked at him expectantly.

"What happened?" Spencer asked, setting down his drumsticks.

He bit down on his lip, thinking before speaking. "He asked me to call him Rodger."

"And?" Vera asked, looking very displeased.

"He wants me to sing this song."

The room fell absolutely silent.