Chapter 2

January 15, 2018

“You made it !!” Yelled a familiar voice as Spark clutching her guitar case unusually tight. Red’s hand smacked Spark’s back causing her to breathe.

“You good, boo?” She asked.

“Y..y..yeah” stammered Spark.

“I know you ain’t nervous fam?? This is your big break.” Red exclaimed. She skipped ahead of Spark. Her blue mini fro bouncing as she went. Red is a child hood friend of Spark and the friend you had to explain to others before they met her. Her blue streaks, tats and piercing made her stick out like a sore thumb and she was always up to something. The sun was setting and the sky was gorgeous. Spark took it all in. 

Red led Spark India the bar “Lazy Lounge” and signed her up for the open mic. She handed Spark a drink slouching on the stool beside her. “You look like you need to relax baby cakes.” 

“Red, I am freaking out ! What am I going to sing?”

“First things first, drink that drink. Second things second sing an Ed Sheehan song you do his songs beautifully and then blow us all away with an original piece.”  She took a sip with a smug look like she just saved the world. Sparks demeanor was unchanged as she took a sip.

The lounge began to fill in. Red was floating around the room hugging and chatting up the place. She was arm in arm with a brown skin handsome man and she was headed towards Spark. “Zeke this is Spark. Your next big break at Lazy Lounge.”  Red said with a smirk.

“Is that right.” He replied reaching out his strong hand to shake Spark’s hand. “ I look forward to hearing you Red here speaks very highly of your talent.” 

Spark became shy “I hope not to disappoint.” 

Zeke slid his arm to the lower back of Red’s back and whispered in her ear. She blushed. Spark took notice, her friend as great as she is had a habit of peeling men who were not good for her. 

“Isn’t he lovely Sparky” Said Red leaning on her friend watching him walk away. 


“I know, I know it probably won’t work he’s a nice guy and ya know my type.” 

Sparks head was her in hand and Blue went on and on about her past lovers. 

“Welcome to the Lazy Lounge.” 

The crowd started to cheer and Spark’s heart lodged itself in her throat. They called for the first act. A mediocre singer who made it by because of good looks and dance moves. Red and Spark key calm by cracking jokes for the night. In the middle of a gut wrenching laugh Zeke’s voice filled the room. “Now this next beauty I am sure will be a pleasant surprise. Let’s give a Lazy Lounge welcome to Spark !!” 

“Spark, boo that’s you go.” 

Spark was frozen on her stool. She snapped out of it as Red’s hand popped her back. 

She made her way to the stage. Eyes locked on Red to keep herself calm. 

Too nervous to speak she went to singing, her first language. 

Her voice drifting through the crowd, like a lullaby placing them into a trance.

Spark didn’t open her eyes until the whooping and hollering of the audience jolted her from her space of melodies. Her confidence rising as they cheered. “Is it cool if I left you all with an original song?” 

Zeke’s voice boomed from the back, beside Red of course, “encore.!”


Spark took a deep breath clinging to the lyrics of her song.

I know it ain’t easy

Letting us go 

Mama don’t worry 

There’s a light in our soul 

It shines for you . . . 


Red’s eyes swelled with tears reminiscing on their childhood and Spark’s mother. Zeke slid his arm around her to comfort her. Once again the crowds erupting cheers snapped Spark our her own trance. She felt the fear lingering on her cheek. Red met her on the side of the stage. Beaming with joy proud of her sister.

Zeke came up behind them. “Spark, if you need extra cash you can come lullaby my crowd a few nights a week. “

It was just what she needed. 

Red checked her watch. “Babes we gotta get going. Bartending that reception tonight remember.” 

Spark completely forgot. They took off and hopped in Red’s prized possession her hot pink Ford Fusion named Foxy. 





Spark didn't need an alarm clock with her neighbors. 6:15 made quite the entrance with her neighbors throwing their words around like grenades, 5 years deep and she wonders what's keeping them together. 

Spark is a spunky dread head. Quick wit and short tempered but deep down she is a sweet heart and hustler at heart. No one knows why her mother named her Spark, the old lady had an odd fascination with fire and it's no wonder she gave birth to a firecracker of a daughter. She definitely lived up to the name. Barista by day and bartender by night, Spark has big dreams but pockets that have a bad habit of cutting her goals short.

She snatched her red jacket off the coat rack and raced out the door. She always managed to be late being distracted with her latest lyrics and melody corrections.

The bus was about to pull off. Spark was running along side smacking the glass like she does almost every morning.

"Mikey what's the deal you always know I'm coming." She said with a sly grin.

"Ya lucky that smile of yours could give the stars a night off kid."

"Love you too Mikey," She said finding a spot on the bus.

Her coffee shop was in walking distance but something about a ride calmed her nerves before the hustle and bustle of "LATTE LOVIN". She didn't know what she hated more the name of the shop or her boss, Mark a heavy set Italian man with an accent as thick as his mustache. Luckily her favorite coworker Remy was in today. She slid in 5 minutes passed clock in time.

"Don't worry babe I punched you in," Remy said with a smile

"The most loyal man in my life, well except for Hemmingway of course." Hemming was is Spar's Siamese cat.

"That brother is damn near impossible to please," Remy said rubbing his waves. Spark noticed his deep waves coming in but she was stingy with the compliments. 

Spark new he had a crush on her but appreciated the brother he's become. Hopefully, he would stay within the boundaries and not ruin a good thing.

"Where is the boss man?" Spark asked brewing another pot of coffee.

"Eh didn't come into day something was up with his kid."

Spark couldn't stand the man but had a soft spot for kids, especially Mark's daughter Marley. The kid was special.

"Morning lovely," in walked Bo – well that's the nickname Spark and Remy gave him. A regular customer and faithful pursuer of Sparks heart. Only thing is he was 78 and kept escaping his place of residence.

"Morning handsome, now you know we can't keep serving you free meals."

Bo put his head down solemnly, but" whispered Spark over the counter, "the cats away and we mice, we like to play."

Bo's smile was so wide it almost slid right off of his face. Spark served him a breakfast sandwich fit for Chef Ramsey and the largest cup of joe on the house.


"Spark and Remy took advantage of the downtime in the shop to goof off and play their favorite music. They were deep into an argument about who was the classic vocalist of their time when the bells on the door rang. Spark’s heart was stuck in her throat. It was him. This guy had come in a couple of mornings and caused Spark to make a fool of herself. Something about that dang smile, Bo noticed. Taking off to the register before Spark could make her move. She overheard his drink and hopped on the espresso machine steaming the milk for his Carmel mocha, this time she would pay attention instead of spilling the milk and burning her fingers.

“Careful,” a deep hypnotizing voice came cutting through the smell coffee and the hushed conversations. Snap out of it Spark.

She came back to the coffee shop. Gave a short laugh and focused on the milk.

“You got a name sir?” she smirked.

“Jordan. You?”

She almost didn’t hear him return the question, Spark was a sucker for a deep voice and this brother spoke like the thunder from an April storm.


“Spark. Is that a hint of your personality or are you part Pyro?”

She could hear the laughter in his voice but she’s heard them all before.

“Little bit of both” she replied placing the sleeve over his cup.

“Don’t play with fire” she added with a wink.

“Spark can you take the register?’ Remy called with a slight edge in his voice.

When she looked back Jordan was halfway to the door.