The Bloody Alchemist

Like Riding a Bike

The next time Cecelia went to the Angels Den she was quite surprised by what she saw. The place was empty of customers as per usual, but the dusty stage was lit up and cleaned. The red velvet curtains looked vibrant and alive. A few members of Archie's stage crew continued to fix up the old curtains. Staff also buzzed around, cleaning the dance floor and seating area, taking off the dirty white table covers to be cleaned or replaced. It was quite a sight, seeing the old theater being taken care of.

        "Are you ready Cecelia?" Archie asked stepping around the table he had just finished wiping down. He looked bright today under the lit chandeliers.

        A grimace spread over Cecelia's face. "Don't tell me you're going to be open for my first time on stage."

        Archie laughed out loud. "Are you kidding? I want to bolster my business, not run it into the ground."

        "Okay rudeness," Cecelia scoffed.

        "Well go on then, get on stage," he ushered her up the stairs that lead from the dance floor up to the stage.

        Cecelia felt very small on this stage. "Wait wait, you don't even have a band."

        Archie stepped back down onto the dance floor,  "I've got a band, I just didn't want to waste their time."

        "Waste their time? You've had a band all along and yet you kept pestering me about performing. No, you didn't want to 'waste their time'?" Cecelia judged.

        "Customers don't want a barbers quartet, they want a charming young woman singing to jazz."

        "That's awfully specific." her sarcastic tone was getting sharper.

        "And yet it's true Ms. Cecelia. Now sing."

        "You're kidding right?" Archie looked up at her expectantly with his hands on his hips. He wasn't kidding "This is ridiculous," Cecelia sighed and pressed her metal hand to her temple, massaging above her eyebrows. She should have never agreed to this.

        "I knew it," Archie sounded at her silence, his voice filled with mocking disappointment. When Cecelia glanced through her fingers at him she saw the playful grin across his face. "I'll bet you don't even remember the songs you used to sing."

        Cecelia furrowed her brows, flicking her finger from her face. "Excuse me? I memorized the entire periodic table and the function of atoms when I was six, you think I don't remember the silly little songs you forced me to sing?"

        "We 'Forced' you? Please. You were always such a drama queen." Cecelia felt her face turn bright red. She hated hearing about that stuff. "Well go on then Ms. Prodigy, I'm waiting."

        Cecelia rolled her eyes muttering, "Can't even be bothered to get a damn trumpet player." She took a deep breath before she started to sing. "He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way," the lyrics of the old war song left her mouth smoothly. Archie was certainly impressed the girl was able to recite the whole song with almost perfect pitch and timing but watching her up on stage...

        "You're boring," he said plainly when she was done with her song.

        "Excuse me?" Cecelia demanded. That's all he had to say after that?

        "All you're doing is singing. You need to perform Cecelia, if you're not having fun the crowds not having fun."

        "How am I supposed to be having fun if I'm singing all by myself on an empty stage?" She shouted into the air ignoring the staff who seemed to not care less about their actions