章節 9: Virtuoso firefighter

Renly's hands were still damp from water droplets, and his attire was slightly disheveled due to the busy dinner rush. He appeared rather disheveled overall. Neil's dragging speed was so swift and his strength so forceful that Renly's steps wavered. "Slow down, Neil! What's going on? At least update me on the specifics!"

But Neil's steps didn't pause. He continued pulling Renly toward the side of the stage, casually stuffing the guitar leaning against the wall into Renly's arms. "Emergency time!"

Renly's eyes widened. "Again?" Although his expression revealed surprise, his hands didn't pause in their movement. He quickly slung the guitar over his shoulder.

Neil spread his hands helplessly. "Traffic jam. Jason's stuck over on 23rd Street, caught in a jam." This was 7th Street, and that was a considerable distance. He probably wouldn't make it in a short time. "We can only rely on you to step in. Stanley said the compensation remains."

New York, this city always found ways to remind everyone living here, in the most unexpected of ways, that it was the world's number one metropolis, but also the busiest, plagued by terrible traffic congestion. Tonight, Jason had become another "participant".

This wasn't the first time.

Since Village Vanguard insisted on live performances and a daily rotating lineup of carefully selected guests instead of a fixed ensemble, various unexpected situations were unavoidable. Thus, there was an occasional need for impromptu firefighters. Until now, comedians were often the first choice, given their ability to deliver stand-up routines on stage, engaging the audience and interacting up close, making them an excellent time filler.

However, during an unexpected incident last month, there were no comedians available to rescue the situation. Thankfully, Renly volunteered and took the stage, averting a performance vacuum that night.

For families like the Halls, even if they were aristocrats in decline, they had to learn an artistic skill from a young age—painting, piano, violin, poetry, wine tasting, and more. The emphasis wasn't on mastery, but on cultivating character and refining demeanor. Particularly in formal social settings of high society, your demeanor, speech, manners, and demeanor during the initial impression determined your status and image within the circle. This was also the fundamental reason why parvenus and nouveau riche were never truly accepted in upper-class circles—a matter of heritage and culture.

Renly had learned the piano, and later experimented with various instruments at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in the UK, mainly to understand shifts and progress in popular culture. This played a crucial role in comprehending culture, history, and performance. Furthermore, it was a means to compensate for regrets from the previous life, exploring new and diverse experiences to broaden horizons. The guitar was one such instrument.

Originally just a one-time cameo for rescue, it unexpectedly received several compliments. Over the past while, Renly had taken the stage five times in succession.

Neil pushed Renly to a spot slightly off-center on the stage, then raised his hands in a gesture of innocence, revealing a relieved smile. "It's all yours now!"

As Neil, ready to be hands-off, was about to leave, Renly hastily caught hold of him. "How much time? How long do you need me to stall?"

"Fifteen minutes," Neil declared in an unceremonious manner. "When Jason arrives, we'll give you a signal from backstage." With that said, he didn't linger any longer, swiftly returning to the bar and throwing the hot potato directly at Renly.

As he watched Neil's hasty departure, Renly didn't panic excessively. He glanced at the clock and began estimating. Deducting the time spent conversing, breaks between performers, there was about a ten-minute window to fill. He only needed to perform three songs. The task wasn't overly burdensome.

At this moment, Stanley Charlson, standing on the stage, caught a peripheral glimpse of the ready Renly. He couldn't continue to ad lib. As the bar's owner, his presence on stage was only transitional. Two minutes of idle chatter was his limit. So, without waiting for Renly to catch his breath, he raised his right hand high. "Ladies and gentlemen, Renly Hall!"

"Ah, Renly! Renly!" Clapping sounds echoed from the direction of the bar. Turning his head, it was likely Neil making the noise. Accompanied by the clapping, many audience members joined in the cheer, whistling and laughter creating a lively atmosphere.

Using a piece of bread to mop up the last bit of soup in his plate, Steven put it in his mouth. Tonight's food was indeed delicious. Hearing Stanley's introduction through the speakers, he nearly choked. His first instinct was to shoot a questioning gaze at Tom, "What's going on?" But Tom spread his hands, a bewildered expression on his face. He had no idea what was happening either.

Turning his head towards the stage, Renly, with the guitar on his back, appeared before everyone with a beaming smile. The cheering in the crowd grew even louder, and Steven couldn't help but scan the surroundings. He noticed the customers who were cheering were all chanting something, evidently very familiar with Renly. The banter and playfulness between friends were evident.

Renly received the microphone from Stanley, his smile radiating. "Good evening, I'm Jason Mraz." The calm delivery of this obvious lie sent the whole bar into laughter. "Sorry, Jason is currently being detained by Michael Bloomberg's terrible management fifteen blocks away." Michael, the current mayor of New York.

This jest won everyone's hearts, and the sound of table-thumping erupted again. It was mixed with excited whistles.

"Before Jason arrives, you'll have to endure a fake me for a while." With just two simple sentences, Renly managed to reinvigorate the atmosphere. Rather than complaining about Jason's lateness, the bar became even livelier.

Renly casually pulled a wooden chair over and took a seat, fixing the microphone in place. The stage lights dimmed, leaving only a soft, buttery beam of light to fall upon him. The rest of the bar's lights were also dimmed, enveloping Renly in an ethereal aura. Dust particles danced in the air, landing lightly on his shoulders. The halo penetrated his tousled, unruly auburn curls, casting sporadic shadows on his face. His dense eyelashes projected a shadow, concealing the expression in his eyes, a ineffable tranquility gradually spreading.

Time seemed to suddenly pause in its tracks.

"Taking advantage of Jason's absence," Renly's voice resonated through the speakers, a velvet texture unfurling in the buttery-yellow ambiance. Amidst this night's beauty, a moment of audacious bloom, "I've decided to perform one of his signature works. Once he appears, you might experience a significant contrast." His self-deprecating jest, a mockery of himself, brought smiles to every listener, even including Steven.

His fingers, long and straight like the sleeve of a robe, each joint clearly defined, powerful yet elegant, lightly brushed down, and a resonating twang of strings danced within the spotlight. A rendition of "I'm Yours" effortlessly drew everyone in the bar into its sway, moving with its rhythm. In this leisurely moment, there was music, wine, friends—the fragments of life began to crystallize.

Steven's gaze remained fixated on Renly within the beam of light. Unlike the audacious and unrestrained performance on stage during the afternoon audition, Renly now appeared refined and clear. Whether due to the stark contrast between the spotlight and the surrounding darkness, or not, there was only one lone figure on the vast stage. Renly resembled a wandering troubadour, singing softly, his expression open, casually carefree yet unbridled, evoking envy.

His singing, seemingly without any technique, effortlessly captured the ears and even ensnared the mind. The lazy and husky voice intoxicated everyone, mingling with a subtle aroma of coffee that wafted in the sunlight beneath his nostrils.

As the song concluded, Steven realized the relaxed smile on his own lips and hurriedly reined it in. He cast a sidelong glance at Tom, relieved to see him raising his hands in applause for Renly, showing no sign of his surprise. Not just Tom, but all the other audience members were the same—nobody noticed the oddity. Each person was simply immersed in the performance.

Even though Steven was reluctant, he had to admit that, putting aside his professional judgment, Renly's performance was genuinely pleasing and carried an indescribable charm. Normally, only seasoned singers who had weathered the storms of life possessed such power. Yet, Renly was only twenty this year, a fact that seemed inconceivable.

This led Steven to recall the audition in the afternoon. Actors were similar in this respect. Young actors, lacking experience and exposure, often relied on talent and instinct to perform. Mature actors, on the other hand, gradually lost their spark, relying more on technique and experience to control their acting. However, in Renly's case, there was a blend of both world-weariness and vitality, a quality that immediately captivated. This was likely why Tom had taken a stand.

"Renly, perform "Charlie Boy", "Heroes" by David Bowie…" From below the stage, numerous audience members started requesting songs, creating a festive atmosphere.

Steven's train of thought was disrupted but grew more contemplative. Though it was his first visit to Village Vanguard, one thing was certain: the audience wouldn't be this enthusiastic solely due to familiarity if it weren't for Renly's exceptional talent.

Tom finally couldn't hold back and turned around, raising his voice. "Seems like this young fellow is quite popular!"

However, Steven remained obstinate. "As an amateur singer?" Actors often held an inexplicable air of superiority over singers. Steven's comment clearly carried some disdain. Tom rolled his eyes in response.

Renly's gaze settled on Table Fourteen. A mischievous smile played at the corners of his lips, prompting both Tom and Steven to cast curious glances. "This afternoon, I had a somewhat unsuccessful audition, but it did provide me with some inspiration. I'm willing to share it here with all of you."