Karaoke All Stars - Part III
Apr. 17th, 2021 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_phoenix posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsMore Karaoke, More Fun.
Angelo practically bounced up to the karaoke stage, grinning, and turned to beckon Jean-Phillipe. "Come on up, husband. I know just the song."
Jean-Phillipe generally trusted Angelo's plans, even if he didn't share them - they always seemed to turn out for the best. But something about the combination of karaoke and size of his husband's grin made him a touch nervous. "How much are we going to embarrass ourselves this evening?" he asked as he ambled up more slowly.
"No more than anybody else", Angelo promised cheerfully if perhaps not entirely reassuringly. "That's what karaoke's for." He fiddled with the machine, looking through its catalogue for what he wanted.
"I suppose." Jean-Phillipe was reasonably sure that he'd get a stern look from more than one person if he 'accidentally' blipped the karaoke machine and tried to blame overuse of his powers. He'd had enough time and food and pampering from Angelo to be recovered, after all.
The brassy opening notes of 'Livin La Vida Loca' came through the stage speakers, and a half-smile crept onto his face, as if despite his grumpy affectation. Ricky Martin saw plenty of play and remixing in gay clubs, after all.
"Ha, I saw that." Angelo took his hand. "You're enjoying yourself - " And then the first words popped up on the screen and he switched to singing.
"Tell no one," Jean-Phillipe murmured. It was directly into the microphone, and he heard at least a few chuckles from the floor.
Once the song was done, and they were back at their table, Jean-Phillipe leaned over to Angelo. "Speaking of telling no one, thank you for being so understanding about my...embarrassment with Scott." Thankfully neither Scott nor Arthur had said anything about the 'oh shit we might die' dramatic kiss, and he had only told his husband.
Angelo still had something of that exhilarated grin, but it turned to a softer, reassuring smile at that. “We’re all good. You thought you were gonna die, and like I said before, I know you wouldn’t have otherwise.”
"That is the thing that you are never told about the grand dramatic gestures - how embarrassing it can be if it turns out you do not die." Jean-Phillipe couldn't even really blame Arthur's luck for keeping them all alive, it wasn't as though he had a death wish.
"Only if people spread it about what happened, and there's - what, four of us who even know? And I don't think Arthur or Scott would do that."
Jean-Phillipe gave his best Gallic shrug. "You are almost certainly right. And I should not dwell. I would look horrible in the 'emo' look. Even I cannot work that much eyeshadow."
The High Note karaoke bar was filled with mansioneers, which the owners were happy with because money=good. Hours had passed, alcohol had flowed, and everyone was having a good time, including Jean, who was on her sixth cocktail.
"Heyyyy Matt. How's it Matting?" she said.
"How many drinks have you had?" Matt asked, more than a little drunk himself. But less drunk than Jean, at least in his mind. It wasn't a superiority thing, he just had a high alcohol tolerance and wasn't drinking anything with a worm at the bottom. It was the little things in life.
Jean squinted thoughtfully. "A bit. Lot. A bit lot," she said, hiccuping slightly.
"Pardon me," she said, covering her mouth. The music started up as someone hopped on stage, so she took a step back and raised her voice a little but paused.
"Are you having---wait...too...too loud? Are your ears?" She waved aimlessly somewhere in the direction of the side of her head.
Leaning in so she could hear better, Matt replied, "I'm fine. You haven't gotten up to sing yet," he noted. It was loud, but New York construction was louder and he handled that. And college dorm. He had earplugs in his pocket if he absolutely had to, but it was rare that he used them.
"Oh...that's...I did earlier, with Garrison..." She hiccuped again. "But I could...def...def go again."
Taking a sip of his drink, Matt shrugged, "Must've missed it. Guess you need to go again," ah, drunk logic. He burped, trying to be discreet.
Jean laughed, grabbing the karaoke book. "Okay," she said without hesitation, fueled by liquid courage. "But the song has to be...good..good..."
It was karaoke though, did the song really have to be good? Or the singer? Well, hopefully the singer was at least decent. Matt could carry a tune, but he made no other claims of vocal talent. It was sorta funny, that a blind guy with enhanced hearing couldn't sing better. Then again, it was also about vocal chords and the throat and all that. He'd been more interested in learning martial arts, not voice lessons growing up. "It's karaoke, 'good' is subjective," he pointed out, hearing towards the book of songs. "You pick. I can't read them," not even with his powers thanks to the laminated pages.
"You have to pick a karaoke good song..." Jean explained as she studied the pages. "Like...fun but not boring..or dep...depper..." She squinted. "Sad."
Flipping the page, she scrolled through the songs, using her finger as a marker. "Sad power ballads...not..as fun as you'd--"
Her eyes widened. "I got it!" she said. She leaned in closer to Matt, sizing him up.
"Okay...I need you to do somethinn for me. It's very important."
"Alright...?" Now he was intrigued. And just tipsy enough that he'd likely do it. Depending on what it was, he might even do it sober. "What?"
"Will...you be my backup dancer and singer?" Jean said, her tone very serious.
"This song works best with those."
Matt's grin was nearly feral. "You've never met my uncle's have you?" he asked rhetorically. "I am the best back up ever."
"See...there's a reason I knew you would be good for the job. That...that's the reason," Jean grinned back.
She finished off her drink (sooo much vodka). "Get ready...for the musical weather fest that is...It's Raining Men."
"Hallelujah," he deadpanned, then grinned. "I can do that," he did like men. He tended to go for women more often, but he was no stranger to the same sex either. He insisted as a teen that he was straight, but even back then he'd been curious. It was just teenage rebellion against gay uncle's and Catholic teachings in conflict. He'd grown up since then. And lightened up.
Jean put her hands together to pray. "Bless you, my son," she said, then let out a heavy laugh.
"I'm so going to hell."
Catholic though he might be, and he was very Catholic, Matt couldn't help but laugh, "That's what confession is for!" he laughed, "So, when's our turn? And are you more of a Tina? Or an Aretha?"
"Song after this one," Jean said, eying the mounted TV on the wall that said who was next. "But good question. In terms of entertainer style? Not sure."
There was enough time to get water then. Good. "I'll meet you at the stage then. Figure out if I'm the Supreme's or just a faceless backup dancer," either way, this would be a hoot.
Angelo practically bounced up to the karaoke stage, grinning, and turned to beckon Jean-Phillipe. "Come on up, husband. I know just the song."
Jean-Phillipe generally trusted Angelo's plans, even if he didn't share them - they always seemed to turn out for the best. But something about the combination of karaoke and size of his husband's grin made him a touch nervous. "How much are we going to embarrass ourselves this evening?" he asked as he ambled up more slowly.
"No more than anybody else", Angelo promised cheerfully if perhaps not entirely reassuringly. "That's what karaoke's for." He fiddled with the machine, looking through its catalogue for what he wanted.
"I suppose." Jean-Phillipe was reasonably sure that he'd get a stern look from more than one person if he 'accidentally' blipped the karaoke machine and tried to blame overuse of his powers. He'd had enough time and food and pampering from Angelo to be recovered, after all.
The brassy opening notes of 'Livin La Vida Loca' came through the stage speakers, and a half-smile crept onto his face, as if despite his grumpy affectation. Ricky Martin saw plenty of play and remixing in gay clubs, after all.
"Ha, I saw that." Angelo took his hand. "You're enjoying yourself - " And then the first words popped up on the screen and he switched to singing.
"Tell no one," Jean-Phillipe murmured. It was directly into the microphone, and he heard at least a few chuckles from the floor.
Once the song was done, and they were back at their table, Jean-Phillipe leaned over to Angelo. "Speaking of telling no one, thank you for being so understanding about my...embarrassment with Scott." Thankfully neither Scott nor Arthur had said anything about the 'oh shit we might die' dramatic kiss, and he had only told his husband.
Angelo still had something of that exhilarated grin, but it turned to a softer, reassuring smile at that. “We’re all good. You thought you were gonna die, and like I said before, I know you wouldn’t have otherwise.”
"That is the thing that you are never told about the grand dramatic gestures - how embarrassing it can be if it turns out you do not die." Jean-Phillipe couldn't even really blame Arthur's luck for keeping them all alive, it wasn't as though he had a death wish.
"Only if people spread it about what happened, and there's - what, four of us who even know? And I don't think Arthur or Scott would do that."
Jean-Phillipe gave his best Gallic shrug. "You are almost certainly right. And I should not dwell. I would look horrible in the 'emo' look. Even I cannot work that much eyeshadow."
The High Note karaoke bar was filled with mansioneers, which the owners were happy with because money=good. Hours had passed, alcohol had flowed, and everyone was having a good time, including Jean, who was on her sixth cocktail.
"Heyyyy Matt. How's it Matting?" she said.
"How many drinks have you had?" Matt asked, more than a little drunk himself. But less drunk than Jean, at least in his mind. It wasn't a superiority thing, he just had a high alcohol tolerance and wasn't drinking anything with a worm at the bottom. It was the little things in life.
Jean squinted thoughtfully. "A bit. Lot. A bit lot," she said, hiccuping slightly.
"Pardon me," she said, covering her mouth. The music started up as someone hopped on stage, so she took a step back and raised her voice a little but paused.
"Are you having---wait...too...too loud? Are your ears?" She waved aimlessly somewhere in the direction of the side of her head.
Leaning in so she could hear better, Matt replied, "I'm fine. You haven't gotten up to sing yet," he noted. It was loud, but New York construction was louder and he handled that. And college dorm. He had earplugs in his pocket if he absolutely had to, but it was rare that he used them.
"Oh...that's...I did earlier, with Garrison..." She hiccuped again. "But I could...def...def go again."
Taking a sip of his drink, Matt shrugged, "Must've missed it. Guess you need to go again," ah, drunk logic. He burped, trying to be discreet.
Jean laughed, grabbing the karaoke book. "Okay," she said without hesitation, fueled by liquid courage. "But the song has to be...good..good..."
It was karaoke though, did the song really have to be good? Or the singer? Well, hopefully the singer was at least decent. Matt could carry a tune, but he made no other claims of vocal talent. It was sorta funny, that a blind guy with enhanced hearing couldn't sing better. Then again, it was also about vocal chords and the throat and all that. He'd been more interested in learning martial arts, not voice lessons growing up. "It's karaoke, 'good' is subjective," he pointed out, hearing towards the book of songs. "You pick. I can't read them," not even with his powers thanks to the laminated pages.
"You have to pick a karaoke good song..." Jean explained as she studied the pages. "Like...fun but not boring..or dep...depper..." She squinted. "Sad."
Flipping the page, she scrolled through the songs, using her finger as a marker. "Sad power ballads...not..as fun as you'd--"
Her eyes widened. "I got it!" she said. She leaned in closer to Matt, sizing him up.
"Okay...I need you to do somethinn for me. It's very important."
"Alright...?" Now he was intrigued. And just tipsy enough that he'd likely do it. Depending on what it was, he might even do it sober. "What?"
"Will...you be my backup dancer and singer?" Jean said, her tone very serious.
"This song works best with those."
Matt's grin was nearly feral. "You've never met my uncle's have you?" he asked rhetorically. "I am the best back up ever."
"See...there's a reason I knew you would be good for the job. That...that's the reason," Jean grinned back.
She finished off her drink (sooo much vodka). "Get ready...for the musical weather fest that is...It's Raining Men."
"Hallelujah," he deadpanned, then grinned. "I can do that," he did like men. He tended to go for women more often, but he was no stranger to the same sex either. He insisted as a teen that he was straight, but even back then he'd been curious. It was just teenage rebellion against gay uncle's and Catholic teachings in conflict. He'd grown up since then. And lightened up.
Jean put her hands together to pray. "Bless you, my son," she said, then let out a heavy laugh.
"I'm so going to hell."
Catholic though he might be, and he was very Catholic, Matt couldn't help but laugh, "That's what confession is for!" he laughed, "So, when's our turn? And are you more of a Tina? Or an Aretha?"
"Song after this one," Jean said, eying the mounted TV on the wall that said who was next. "But good question. In terms of entertainer style? Not sure."
There was enough time to get water then. Good. "I'll meet you at the stage then. Figure out if I'm the Supreme's or just a faceless backup dancer," either way, this would be a hoot.
