T-shirt and jeans, and he had his acoustic guitar slung around his body. Claire thought the puka shell necklace he was wearing looked new - a gift from Eve? A good-luck charm?
Eve was standing next to him, and although she couldn't see clearly, Claire thought they were holding hands.
Claire and Shane pushed through the crowd to the bar. Shane nodded to Michael, who nodded back - all very manly - and then Shane went to place some drink orders, leaving Claire to fumble for words.
"You're going to do great," she finally said. Michael's blue eyes blinked and focused in the here and now.
"Man, I don't know," he said. "It was supposed to be casual - I show up and play a couple of songs. Just to get used to it again. But this - "
Somebody out in the corner of the room started clapping, and suddenly everybody was doing it, a wave of rhythmic noise.
Michael couldn't possibly get any more pale, but Claire saw the outright doubt in his eyes. Eve did, too, and gave him a quick kiss.
"You can do this, Michael," she said. "Come on. Get out there. It's what you do."
Claire nodded and smiled her support. Michael lifted the hinged section of the bar and stepped out, to a thunderous wave of applause. There was a small stage set up at the far end of the room, near the closed door that said OFFICE, and as Michael moved up on it, the stage lights caught and glittered in his golden hair, sparked an unearthly blue in his eyes.
Wow, Claire thought. That wasn't Michael anymore. That was . . . something else.
Eve ducked under the bar and came to lean next to Claire, her arms folded. She had a wistful smile on her Evil Queen-red lips. "He's beautiful," she said. "Right? He is."
Claire could only agree with that.
Michael adjusted the microphone, tested it, played a couple of fast finger exercises she knew he used to calm himself, and then smiled out at the crowd. It was a different smile than she'd ever seen from him before - more, somehow. More intense, more joyous, more personal. She felt a hot flutter somewhere deep inside as his gaze brushed over her, and immediately felt embarrassed about it.
But man, he was hot. She understood now what Shane was talking about, and she wasn't immune.
Shane touched her shoulder and handed her a drink just as Michael said, "I guess you all know who I am, right?"
And about eighty percent of the room cheered like thunder. The others - college students, who'd either wandered in or come because they were bored - looked lost.
Michael gave the mike stand one last, precise adjustment. His hands were sure now, moving with confidence. "My name is Michael Glass, and I'm from Morganville. "
More cheers. Before they died away, Michael started to play, a fast and complicated song that Claire had heard him fooling around with at the house - but this wasn't fooling around; this was serious talent. He glittered like white gold, and music flowed out of his hands like streams of light. It wrapped around Claire like a shining net, and she didn't dare breathe, didn't move, as Michael played like she'd never heard anyone play before, ever.
She managed to glance aside at Shane, whose eyes were wide and fixed on Michael, as well. She nudged him. He gave her a dumbfounded shake of his head.
Eve was smiling, as if she'd known it all along.
Michael brought the song to a liquid, blazing finish, and as the guitar strings rang in the silence, the crowd was utterly still. Michael waited, just as motionless, and then the room spontaneously erupted in applause and cheers.
Claire thought that the smile that spread across Michael's face was worth everything about Morganville, right at that moment.
His next song was slower, sweeter, and Claire realized with a shock that it was a slowed-down version of the song he'd been writing the other night, when he'd been too busy to go to the store. It had lyrics, too, and Michael's voice transformed them into sad, aching beauty.
It was a song for Eve.
Claire realized her chest was hurting, both from the pressure of unshed tears and the fact that she wasn't breathing. She'd never known music could have that much power. As she glanced around the coffee shop, she saw the same thing in the others' faces - common rapture. Even Oliver, standing behind the bar, was transfixed. And in the shadows,