In Her Solitude
Chapter one: That girl
I sat at the bar; in a jazz club in downtown Manhattan. I was downing shot after shot of Bourbon as the music played in the background; when I saw her. She walked into the club with her arm entwined in his. Slowly they moved like a waltz in the ballroom.
She turned her head as if seeing the club for the first time. Her brunette hair was in a fancy bun, with strands falling down her neck and over her cheeks. The diamonds in her ears sparkled as the light yielded a golden radiance to them. When she walked, her hips swung, making my body warm.
That black form-fitting gown she wore, with a slit down her thigh, had my heart pounding in my chest, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Her beauty was beyond anything I had ever seen.
She walked slowly to us at the bar, and my eyes went right to hers. The wind blew the strands of hair behind her; it was like slow motion. She stopped at the counter, and five men immediately stood, offering her their stool. A half-smile formed on her mouth, and her eyes did a sexy expression as they raised, but she said nothing.
Someone offered to buy her a drink, but she didn’t acknowledge him. God, she was making me crazy. She turned slightly with her elbow leaning on the bar, facing me, and she smiled. I smiled back at her as this beauty’s leg came free from the slit in her gown, and I stared passionately at her smooth bare skin. I wondered what it felt like; to rub my hand down her thigh. Then she tilted her head, some distinguished gentleman leaned over, kissed the side of her neck. I was lost in my desires and hadn’t seen him coming. Her beauty had me gasping for air.
I watched as he entwined his arm around hers, and they strolled over to a table alongside the wall. All eyes stayed upon them; every man in that club was fantasizing about her. He sat her down in the booth and then slid into his seat. The gentleman reached across the table and held her hands, rubbing the top with his thumb. He whispered something to her that was unreadable to me. But I knew it was something erotic, the way she shyly smiled and looked away from him.
I took another shot of my Bourbon and watched as he led her to the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist and then moved his hands to her bottom; I didn’t think she approved of his jester as she lifted his hands back over her hips. I began to take notice of her body language; something was off, she didn’t seem happy. I wondered why. He went to kiss her mouth, and she smirked, turning away from him. He placed his hand over her cheeks and squeezed it forcefully, turning her lips to his. She looked sad. Then she put her head on his shoulder. As the dance ended, he glided her back to their table, where their drinks were waiting for them.
I wondered who this guy was. Was she being forced to be with him? Why was this beautiful girl in his arms? They sipped their drinks, and he led her away. As the lights dimmed. The music stopped. And the club was silent.
A red and white fog came over the stage as low yellow lights beamed over her head. The Music started to play. Jazzy, slow, and wanting. Every head was on that stage waiting for it. Lights of reds and blues, in a crisscross shape, swung over the floor, and she swayed about the stage.
She was classy. She had style...
Whistles can be heard throughout the club as money was thrown at her feet. Men and women applauded and cheered as she opens her mouth and began to sing. The swaying of her hips and the motions of her mouth told me this girl has got it all. The feelings in her tone hit me like a ton of bricks as she sings, making everyone believe the lyrics to Stormy Weather. She turns her back to the audience, then slowly turns and faces us again. This beauty holds the microphone stand with feelings and integrity. It’s sensual, as she leans it down as if she were going to kiss it. She brings it back up and dances with her shoulders. Man, she had all the right moves.
As I watched her sing with pure feelings, I was falling in love with her. The piece ended, and the lights dimmed. When they came back on, she was gone. She never said goodbye, or thank you; she had disappeared.
I looked around the club for her, but she was nowhere to be found. I stood from my seat, craning my neck, looking in every direction for them, as the crowd still cheered. She was like an angel; her melodic voice was heavenly.
Chapter two: Singer
Men asked when she would be back as everyone wanted to hear her again. I’d been to that club every night waiting for her since she stepped in and took my breath away. We had eye contact for a moment at the bar. Nothing more. I remembered the fragrance she wore; it was sweet. She was like an aphrodisiac. The bartender put another Bourbon in front of me, my desires increasing for the taste of her.
Two weeks passed. And then she was back on the stage. Her act had every man panting.
The lights dimmed, the fog came up, and that crisscross of red and blue lights began dancing on the floor once more. As she steps out, singing the blues. Her red mermaid gown trails along the floor and behind her as her cleavage shows through the tight halter-type top. Her fingernails are painted red as her hand grips the mic. Her luscious lips shine in a heavy gloss, making them look wet. My yearnings increased overwhelmingly.
She waves her arm out as she sings, again believing every word in her lyrics and vocals. That beautiful face as the lights twinkle above her, flawlessly she sways. All you can do is stare, listen, and dream.
The band follows her tone in her words from the song, Misty Blue. A teardrop pauses over her cheek; sadness falls upon her; until she finds my eyes through the crowded club and winks. I look behind me to see who she’s winking at, that half-smile takes the form of her mouth again, and she steps back as the music slowly dies down and the lights dim. Just like that, she’s gone.
I stand in the darkroom waiting for the light to shine in the club, wondering where she went, will she be back. Ugh! Do I have to wait another two weeks to see her? The club is cheering for an encore. But she never comes out.
Men ask the Manager about her, but he tells them nothing. Who is this mysterious woman? This incredibly desirable beauty stealing every man’s heart.
I thought about going into her dressing room, but there are guards stopping crowds of men from getting to her. It would be impossible to meet this beauty. I’ve heard some talk about her; they say she sings from the heart and the soul, they say her modesty is sincere, and they say she never picks out her own gowns. It’s been said the man she is with; chooses her wardrobe, which makes me wonder how a woman like that would even allow it.
As I sit on this barstool, I wonder more; I have to smile. No woman has ever made me think so hard, no woman has ever made me feel so insignificant, and no woman has ever made my body feel the way it feels when I am in the presence of her company.
I downed my drink and told Bill, "give me another," as he wipes the glasses dry, he pauses to give me my drink, then he made this movement with his head; as if telling me to look behind me. My hands are still on the bar, and I turn; oh God, she’s with her guy. He pulls her to him, and she tugs back. He mumbles something to her with a vulgar face, and she does whatever he said to her. I feel my blood begin to boil as I know there’s something off about them. In my agitated state, I got up, slid my stool out, and headed for the doors. That’s when I saw them. They were getting into a stretch limousine. As they drive off, my car pulls in, and we drive away.
Chapter Three: Her Guy
I met with a colleague of mine for lunch at a posh restaurant a few weeks ago in uptown Manhattan. He told me I needed to come see this chick sing. He explained how beautiful she was and how the people really loved her. Her voice is pure, and her tone believable.
I asked him where he heard her singing; he mentioned he was in some hopping bar in Harlem having drinks with a friend of his. When she stepped onto the stage. He continued to say the place went dark, and everyone was quiet, then a fog came out on stage, the music began to play, as a low light lit over her head, shining upon her whole body.
I was intrigued and said I wanted to see her. Not long after that, I was meeting my friend there for drinks. As we talked for hours, having many cocktails, the lights went off; the place fell silent. And a beam of light lit over this woman’s head. She stood there with her head down as the music began to play in a jazzy tone.
She lifts her face slowly and begins to sing. My heart pounded in my chest like I was watching a horror movie, feeling scared and nervous all at the same time. Anxiously I waited to hear her voice.
She turns her back to us, straightened her arms like she was flying, holding a mic, and then begins her song. Slowly she turns to face us again. I stare at this young beauty in her blue evening gown. Her hair flowed over her shoulders as the lyrics come out of her mouth, holding her notes perfectly, melodically, and flawlessly. Autumn leaves, she sings. Making me believe every line that spews from her lips.
My heart throbs, and my breath shortened, leaving me with the question, who is this girl. I knew at that moment I had to have her. No matter what the cost, I was going to make her mine.
She moved under the lights, and her gown flairs up, leaving the scars in my mind of her thigh to show. No one would forget those legs of hers. In her heels and in that moment.
My friend asked me if I was alright, sighing, I answered, “What do you think?” He laughs at me, saying, “What did I tell you? She’s amazing, isn’t she?”
He asked me, “What’s going on in that head of yours?” I shook my head back and forth, then said, “I gotta have her!” In an anxious tone. He understood. Then he mentioned he could introduce her to me; I felt my eyes go wide with joy.
At the end of her show, he led me into her dressing room. She was taking off her gown when we entered. She asked us to turn around or wait outside as she continued to change, putting on a black dinner dress. She was kind and meek. Her angelic voice was going to make me a very rich man. People will come from everywhere just to hear her. They’ll ask questions and want to know more about her, but we’ll give no information. She’ll remain their mystery.
I thought about her on this stage with that glorious voice; it made me mad to see her on that cracked stage, with the broken lights shining on the ripped curtains. When she takes my stage, she’ll be victorious in all that splendor.
When our beauty finished dressing, I approached her holding out a few hundred-dollar bills to her. She stared at the money in my hand and said, "Yeah, what about it?" I told her; I can make you very rich if you come to sing at my club in Manhattan. She asked, how rich are we talking. I told her, I’ll give you three hundred a night that you sing, she said, I make more than that here. My brows raised, and I felt my blood heated up as I didn’t want to pay her any more than that, but I told her, how about four hundred. She told me to get out or she was going to call security. I grabbed her arm and squeezed it hard, saying, you’ll come work at my club, you’ll be my girl, and I’ll pay you four hundred a night. She pulled her arm from my grip and ran out of her dressing room, looking for a bouncer. He was to escort me out of the bar. But when he went to grab me, I told him, lay one finger on me, and I’ll shoot you right here. He turned and left. The girl was mine. I put her in my limo as she screamed and kicked, fighting me; I had to knock her out. My friend asked me what I was doing, but I told him to keep his mouth shut and handed him five thousand dollars. He hailed a taxi and left.
The girl woke in the limo asking, "Where am I?" I told her, in my limousine; you’re coming home with me tonight. When we got to my penthouse, I put her in her own room and told her to sleep; we’ll discuss business in the morning. She went into her room, and I locked the door so she couldn’t escape.
I looked through her purse and took her cell phone, learning her name and address from her license. I had all the information on her that I needed.
The next morning, I unlocked her door, letting her out to have breakfast. She came out slowly, peeking around the walls, and tipped-toed into the kitchen. I was at the table waiting. She froze when she saw me. I told her to come in and eat. Maids place a cup of coffee before her and eggs. She wouldn’t eat. It was time to talk business. I said to her, you will sing at my club every two weeks, and I’ll pay you four hundred dollars. She stared at me. In her quietness, I saw a sheen in her eyes like she was going to cry; I got up and left, taking my cup with me. I never looked back.
Two weeks had passed, and it was time for her first show at my club. She would look like a million bucks. I sent for my girls to do their best on her, putting her in the finest clothes and jewels. Men would desire her, but anyone who attempts to touch her will pay the price.
She walked out of her room in her form-fitting gown, looking like a princess on her way to the ball. I was proud to be walking with our arms entwined. We entered my club, and I set the bait up. I told her to walk to the bar and wait for me. Little miss loyal did as I said. Every man in that place had a hard-on for her. I watched her as the men fled from their stools, offering them up to her. She wouldn’t even answer them. She turns in the other direction, and a gentleman is staring so profusely at her that he doesn’t even know I’m walking over to her. As I kiss her neck, the man is shocked. We waltz to my table, and they all continue to stare. This girl is mine, and no one can touch her.
I noticed how that man from the bar kept staring at us, but then, he turned and looked in the other direction. I didn’t like it. I asked my bodyguards to keep an eye on him.
The man stood standing; next to the bar as if anxiously awaiting my girl’s stage appearance. He sips his Bourbon and slams the glass down on the counter, watching.
Chapter Four: The Song
This was the first night she would sing here at my club. I knew it would be a superb turnout, as the money would soon be flowing in. I also knew I wouldn’t be introducing her, not yet. This would keep everyone guessing about her.
When I walked through the main doors of my club, I could see all the men sitting at the bar, embracing their cocktails, and lost in their own thoughts. This was going to snap them out of their pity parties. And my angel would wake them up. They’ll never forget her.
I took my girl to the dance floor, and we had our moment. She wouldn’t kiss me, and that had me uptight. She knew it too.
It was time, as the lights dimmed. She stood behind the curtain, and the music came in slowly. The fog took over the stage, and then she was there. Standing as a beam of yellow lights glowed over her thin body. She kept her head down, her arms at her side, then as the band continues to come in louder, her arms lift slowly, and her head raises until her head is all the way back, and her eyes are on the ceiling. Men watch with their mouths open, in their delight, they become like statues. Mesmerized by the sight of her.
She spins slowly, and her Black Formfitting gown shimmers in the low lights. Her hair is pinned up, with loose strands falling over her pretty face. She touches her chest in a heartful tone, then swings her arms out like she’s flying. It’s a sight everyone should witness. Even I am in awe of her. This beauty has the attention of every head in the building.
The lyrics, Stormy Weather, escapes her mouth as she stands in one place, her hand back on her chest as she feels the music in her soul; I can see the sheen in her eyes. Her emotional tone has the women sniffling in the club. Just like that, the song ends, and she’s gone.
The crowd is left speechless.
She leaves the stage, and men scatter to find her, trying to get to her dressing room. My bodyguards take care of them. She’s then escorted out the back doors and put into my limo, where I await her presence. I take her back to the penthouse, leave her, and go back to my club. Four bodyguards escort me. Men run to me, asking, who is that girl? I laugh, walking away from them.
The next couple of months go by; my club is packed. Money coming in like I never dreamed it would. I heard men were coming from all over Long Island and Connecticut just to witness her in person.
Later I’m approached by music agents asking to record her. I set up the meetings with them. Acting as her manager.
I buy her diamonds. Designer clothes, the finest perfumes, and more. But she tells me she does not want them. In my madness, I slap her. Kick her, and Break her ribs. The ungratefulness is too much for me to oversee.
The meetings are canceled. She cannot go up and perform. As she couldn’t be seen in public like that. She is bruised and broken. I decide it’s time for some drugs. She will sing, or she will die.
Chapter Five: Give Me Death
I sang because it makes me feel better about myself. I sang because I loved it. Hitting those notes, I can feel the music inside me, and holding the lyrics close to my heart, Is all I wanted to do.
I left California after I overheard my parents discussing me. My father was telling my mother that I’m too old to be living at home, and it was time I started a career and moved out.
My mother cried to him, “She’s just a girl. She’s too young to be out on her own.” I was only twenty-one years old. That was three years ago. That night I packed a bag. Then I went on my cell phone and bought a plane ticket to New York. I knocked on my parent’s bedroom door and said goodbye to them. My mother jumped off her bed and grabbed me. But I told her, don’t make this any harder than it already is. My father came over to me, patted me on my shoulder, and said, I’m proud of you. But my mom cried harder. I called one of my father’s drivers to take me to L’A’X as I anxiously awaited his arrival. Leaving for New York.
I am an only child. Both my parents are musically inclined. My father plays the blues on his sax and bugle; he sings the oldies like the rhythm in a melody of waterfalls. My mother plays the cello, piano and sings. Her voice is like the harmony in the sky, flying with the birds. They have vinal records and a few music videos. I always knew they were talented.
My parents have money; they live in a very large house, they have maids, gardeners, and drivers.
I’ve worked for a while as an assistant director for a music company here in Cali. I was responsible for running the studio and working in a team; it was in-depth. My experience and pragmatic skills gave me the tools I needed to become a great Jazz singer. I’ve saved all my money and have plenty of credit cards. I never use them.
When I arrived in New York, I took a part-time job as a singer at a bar in Harlem. I made good money, and I was happy doing it.
Not so long ago, a snobby man approached me in a white suit. He offered me money to sing at his club. But I didn’t like him and turned his offer down. He was angry. Threatening anyone who gets in his way.
Theodore Owen. Rich, twisted, and stuck-up. He is always in a white three-piece suit, he’s tall, and his hair is pulled back in a greasy ponytail. He owns a Snoozy, upbeat Jazz Club in upper Manhattan. People do as he says. They never ask questions and never speak up to him. He grabbed me at the bar and took me back to his penthouse, not letting me leave and against my will.
The day I told him I didn’t want his gifts, he beat me to a pulp. I was bedridden for over three weeks. He came to me saying; You caused me to lose money this past month. Now you’ll sing without pay.
I hate him…
He has taken my purse with all my money and credit cards, ID, and other personal items. As soon as he leaves today, I’m going to find it.
I hear the front door slam. I know he left for the day. I get out of bed, aches and pains still haunt me as my body lurks through the house. I grab hold of the wall and walk with my hand on it. I head into the kitchen, but Theodore is sitting at the table. He asks me, "Where are you going?" but I tell him, "I wanted coffee." He got up and walked over to me; I see the bitterness in his eyes. Then he comes closer to my face; I can feel his breath on my cheeks and says, "You can’t have coffee; you owe me millions. You’ll pay for the loss one-way or another." He strides out of the kitchen, bumping my shoulder and knocking me down. I stay there until he leaves for the day. The pain in my back is throbbing; he broke two of my ribs. It has been hard for me to breathe.
Someone give me death. I cannot live like this...
Theodore put his jacket on, and I watch him leave, slamming the door behind him. I crawl on my hands and knees until I can stand on my own, then I go to the window and watch, squinting to see as Theodore gets in his car; I wait till they’re gone and go into his room. Searching for my purse, under his bed, in his drawers, and then his closet. I spot it. Taking all the cash and a few credit cards. I put my purse back where I found it and leave his room. My heart pounding a mile a minute; I was so scared. My body shakes terribly, and I sit on my bed. Trying to calm myself down. I take the cash and cards and hide them in the clothes I am wearing.
As I sat on my bed, I thought about that man at the club sitting at the bar; he seemed ok. I wondered what his name was. His good looks and hard body caught my attention. It didn’t matter, though; I need to figure out how to get away from Theodore.
It was getting late, and I wanted to be in bed before he got home, so I closed my door and hurried under the blankets. Two more weeks had passed. It was time for me to get back to work. Theodore made sure I was prepared and looked the part.
We stepped into the club, and everyone stared. He leads me to the bar, and that man was sitting there drinking shots of Bourbon. I gazed at him, and he smiled. The lights were dim, and I didn’t think he could see my shiner. Theodore took my hand and led me away. I took my position behind the curtain and waited for my cues.
The fog danced on the cold floor as the dim yellow light walked with me to the center of the stage. I kept my head down as the music began to play; I have sung the first three lines in the song,
Sunday is gloomy... My hours are slumberless.... The dearest shadows I live with are numberless....
The tears roll down my cheek and over my lips; I turn and walk the stage; I know Theodore is watching, and I’m dead when we get home. But I continue to sing. My gown drags along the stage, and I stumble. The crowd makes sounds in horror as I watch Theodore’s fists tighten. My body starts to shake, and my voice quivers in fright. As I finish the song, Gloomy Sunday. Leaving the stage.
I’m alone behind the curtain, looking for him; I can barely walk, stumbling to get to the door, running and looking over my shoulders, it’s dark, and there are a lot of people standing in my way; I crash into a man. He Knocks me down, and in his panic, he apologizes to me sincerely; and helps me up.
The Stranger’s POV
I watched as our singer took the stage. Her beautiful figure and perfect face were a mess tonight. What had become of her? What did that monster do?
I saw the black under her eyes and thought it looked like a shiner. Her breaths were short, and her timing was off. I knew it was time to rescue her.
I take a moment, thinking about that song, Rescue; The words come to my mind, and I make that decision.
I will find you in the middle of the night; no matter how hard the fight, I will fight. There has never been a moment where you are forgotten. I will rescue you. A piece written by Lauren Daigle.
I flew around the stage when she finished her song, looking for her, but we slammed right into each other. I panicked. Quickly looking around for her guy. I took her hand and tried to pull her up, but she pulled me down to the floor. I watched as he craned his neck, searching for her. He couldn’t tell we were both on the floor.
She whispered in my ear; Please help me leave this place. I stared at her, pulling out my phone and asking if she was serious. She replied. Yes, I asked my driver to pull the car up, but she wailed, "No, not the front, the back of the building. I only have three minutes."
Then I asked my driver if he could have the car in the back of the building in three minutes, he said he’d try. I helped her up, and we went right to the back doors of the building. Checking over our shoulders every second for her guy. I went out first, checking the surroundings. Then I saw a car sitting in the corner; his headlights came on; I waved to the girl not to come out yet. But just then, my car pulled in, and I pulled the door open in a flash; she got in, and I closed the door jumping in with her. We sped out of there.
I asked this beauty, So, where to? She told me she couldn’t go home and she had nowhere to go. So I told my driver to take me home.
***
I sat on the seat in the back of this man’s limousine; I didn’t even know him. To me, he was a stranger, and for all I knew, he was dangerous too.
