Landed Wings - By Skylhur Tranqille Page 0,51
taking so long?
“Quit hassling me Princess.”
He comes out and looks at me like he knows how sexy he is in his tux.
“Whoo-hoo!”
I wolf whistle at him and he grins at me.
“Ready?”
“Not really. But I have to do it anyway so…”
“What songs are you going to sing?”
“Don’t know yet. I’ll wing it when I get there.”
“That’s a well thought out plan.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.”
“I know.”
“Alright…Let’s go Ash.”
We walk out of the door. Mocha offers me his arm, like a
gentleman, and I take it. We open our wings and fly towards who knows what.
Chapter 35: SKYVIEW
ASHLYNN
When we get to Skyview, I realize it’s nothing like I expected. It isn’t large or grand. It’s more was more like a large lounge, which isn’t very big at all.
“I thought it would be bigger than this.”
“There are only twenty VWP members coming, if Cocoa comes.”
“Only twenty?”
“Well, only twenty that matter.”
“Oh.”
At least this place has low, dim lights, a bar on the right side of the room, and more couches than chairs. I’ll be able to see everyone including Frost Galied. That’s good, I’ll make sure to sing in his direction. We walk towards the back, behind the tiny stage. There is someone fumbling around and cursing.
“Hello?”
I say it softly, I don’t want to disturb whoever is working.
Also, my stomach is in knots. I’m scared.
“What?!”
A voice, tinged with an accent, growls out of the darkness.
“Sir…it’s As…Agate. Agate Croft. I’m performing tonight.”
I look back at Mocha and smile. His last name is Croft, which was why I had chosen it. A man came out of the darkness. He is at least a hundred, and his once black wings are liberally sprinkled with gray.
“Do you pronounce that “Ah-gate?”
Can’t he hear me?
“No, it’s pronounced Uh-gay-tee.”
“Alright, alright, come here with me. Now, we have a
catalogue of all the songs ever known, and the instrumentalists with them. Oh, and my name is Slate. I manage Skyview.”
“There’s not going to be a live band?”
“Well, since we didn’t hire one…no. Have you ever worked with this type of equipment?”
“No…always with a live band.”
Slate stares at me incredulously and then waves his hand to the side, dismissing the problem.
“Well, you’ll just have to get used to it Princess.”
Mocha grins at me, but I am fuming. What is it with everyone calling me Princess?
“Come here and I’ll show you how to use it.”
In front of him is a small speaking platform, about four feet high. It is black, like melted lava that had hardened. It looks new - shiny and sleek. Slate waves his hand over the top of the platform and it turns on. The screen is white when turned on and there is a partial list of the songs that are offered. I say partial because the total song count at the bottom of the screen was greater than a billion. There is a search box in the upper right hand corner.
“Just click here in the search and say whatever song it is. Be as descriptive as possible. If not, you’re going to end up with thousands of songs that you have to sift through. Let’s give it a try.”
He presses the search bar and gestures for me to say a song. The first song that pops in my head is a song by D K Maxwell.
“The Boardwalk by D K Maxwell – Instrumental.”
Slate gave me an approving nod. The screen says “song located” and then “Add to Playlist?”
“Now for this part, you have to click yes. It will say “name of playlist” and you click new. After that, say any name you want out loud. After you’ve made it, call me. How many songs are you planning on singing?”
“Fifteen to twenty.”
“That’s a good amount. I’d go with twenty, and variety, just in case the audience doesn’t like the style you are currently in.”
“They’re going to have to like it because I’m singing what I’m singing.”
Slate laughs out loud and his slightly overweight belly jiggles with it.
“If you want to get anywhere with this Princess, you’ll have to learn it’s not about you at all. It’s about them – your audience – in that hour and a half.”
Slate walks away, shaking his head and laughing.
“Why does he keep calling me that?”
“Don’t be mad…Princess. I’m sure it’s only used as a term of endearment. Don’t yell at me. You have to preserve your voice. Anyway, you should make your playlist now so you’ll have time to practice.”
He smiles and gives me a peck.
“Good luck.”
“Wait, where are you going?”
“I need to scout out