childrenofthemccn.

Admittedly, the journalist felt a jolt of confidence-boost struck her, having never come across a performer that was actually AWARE she would be covering the show. Ten out of ten times, she would only be heard of after having approached the performers herself to ask for a statement with which to enhance her article. “I’m the writer,” she confirmed, raising a shoulder. 

“Friend of a friend, yeah.” Accepting the implicit invitation, she set aside her instrument, turned off her equipment and set it neatly in a corner before taking a seat on the edge of the stage. “Ha, you’re just saying that ‘cause you know I’m covering your show,” she teased, if only to get him to loosen up after having been visibly affected by learning she would be writing about him. “It’s not a big deal, actually, I’m just a part-time performer. I tried getting her to grant my band and I the chance to play here, like a one-time-only kinda thing, but… you know how it is, sometimes your style just clashes with the place’s crowd. It’s all good.” 

“I gotta say that meeting you before the show is a little bit of an oddity.  This never happens.  Like.  Ever.  I’m not sure whether to be more at ease now that we’ve talked and are getting to know one another.  Or if I should be even more on my toes,” he grinned at her only half-joking but it was a way to further crack the ice and if he had to express a small bit of anxiousness over venturing into foreign territory at the expense of himself?  Why not.  At least they were talking and laughing.  Rather than trying to fill up gaps of awkward silence with conversation that had nothing to do with nothing.

“You know?  I’ve always been under the belief that in a place like this,” his brow arched and he lifted his hand from the table top so he could gesture at the bar around them with a twirl of his pointer finger, “The performer dictates the crowd.  Should never be the other way around.  Not that I am saying how they should run their business.  I’ve just always leaned towards the more variety means more money sort of philosophy.”  He wasn’t the end-all-be-all of the music industry.  Not even by a small shot, in his opinion.  Only building up his career both in New York City and the newest adventure of being out on the road with his own music.  However, he’d been in enough bars, theaters, venues and flash from the past theme parks to think he knew enough to say with a sound like hers?  It’d be a shame not to be known as that place where it all began.  “Once again, rudeness seems to have won over today,” a sheepish, self-chiding smile curled the edges of his lips as offered her his hand.  “I’m Blaine but you knew that.  What’s your name again?  How long have you been a journalist?”