Laughing, Kris bites down onto the end of the straw that sticks out from her glass of soda.

"No, seriously!" Jesse, turning pink, looks off as he leans against the back cushion in the booth.

They're in a small sports bar in Downtown Greenville, the city in the midst of Lakewood and Riverside. In the center of their table is a plate with honey barbeque boneless wings and onion rings. Next to that is a half empty basket of tortilla chips and two small bowls of salsa.

She puts out her palm, signaling him to hush. "Stop! Please. You almost made me spit out my drink!"

"Sorry." He laughs. He glances over at the bar and is instantly reminded of something. "So, you remember Larry?"

"The creepy bartender guy?"

Smirking, he turns back to her. "To sugarcoat it, yes. So he was telling me that the owner has an opening on Friday at the lounge."

Kris leans forward to take another sip of her drink. "For a show?"

"Yup." He nods, his grin widening. "Whatcha say?"

Reluctant, she sits back in her seat. "I don't know."

"Oh come on. Look, you're cute when you're modest. Hell, you're cute when you're anything." He catches himself and lifts his whiskey glass to take a quick swig. "But you have to realize, you've got a natural talent for this. When you get up on that stage you're amazing! Don't hide it from the world."

"I'm not hiding anything."

"We're all hiding something." He says, his voice shifting to a more solemn tone. "I know I know, you post videos. But those are filmed from the comfort of your own room. I can help you get more out there."

Kris shoots him a playful glare. "What are you, my manager?"

"I could be." He says, his tone still serious. "That is, if you want me to."

She shakes her head. "No."

"What? Why not?!"

Cocking an eyebrow, she isn't sure whether or not to take his offer seriously. She props her elbows onto the table to where she can rest her head on her the back of her hands. "Jesse, you barely know me. Why on earth would you want to be my manager?"

"Honestly?" It's clear he already knew the answer to her question before she even asked. "I think you have great potential. If you get your songs out there the right way, you can go really far in the music industry. And I like you, as a musician and as a person."

"And what about your music?"

"What about it?" He shrugs. "Helping you isn't gonna stop me from singing. Besides, for me it's just a hobby. You on the other hand, I can tell it's a passion. A dream."

She gazes around the bar as she considers the offer. It's tempting. "No, I can't. I can't ask that of you."

He smiles. "You didn't ask."

Sighing, she lets her hands fall to the table as she gives in."Okay fine!"

He makes a fist and quickly pulls his arm down, as if winning a victory.

"So, manager." She squints her eyes, as if the word had left a vile taste on her tongue. "Where do we start?"

"We start with a song."

"I didn't bring any of my lyrics."

Jesse sits up attentively, clinching his fists as he slightly leans on the table. "No, pick a song. A song that inspires you. A style that you can, someday, imagine yourself standing up on stage singing in front of thousands of strangers."

"Hmm... Okay." Kris ponders about it, still resting her head on her palm as she glances out the window. "Stay Away by The Honorary Title."

"I've never heard it. Pick another one."

She looks over at him, scoffing. "Really? Just because you haven't heard of it means that I have to pick another one?"

He still clinches his fist as he gazes over into her eyes. "Rule number one about being a successful artist. Pick a currently trending band or song—one that preferably doesn't make your ears bleed—and look at their style, the rhythm, the lyrics. See why people like it, take that and make it better. Make it your own."

She nods, soaking in his advice. He has a good point. In reality, she can sing whatever she wants to. But if she doesn't get with what is popular, she more than likely won't get anywhere far in the music industry.

"The Honorary Title, huh?" He grabs his drink from the table as he sits up, slowly scooting out of his seat."Let's hear them."

A couple of minutes later, Jesse feeds a dollar bill to an electronic juke box positioned against the wall behind the bar. He searches for the song she had mentioned and finds it, pushing a button on the touchscreen monitor to play it. He sips from the drink he holds in his other hand and looks up at the speaker on the ceiling as the song starts.

A few seconds pass and he nods as the first verse begins to play, turning back to face Kris with an approving smile. "Talent and good taste. Now that is a rare combination."

She pushes her bangs to the side as she smiles back at him, the two locking eyes.

"So, Friday?" He asks.

"What time?"

"Eight-thirty."

Kris nods, actually feeling more excited than nervous this time. Deep down, she can't wait to get back up on that stage. To feel that adrenaline rush through her blood again as the crowd cheers her on.

He takes another sip of his drink and raises an eyebrow as a thought crosses his mind. "Hey, you said your friend Taylor is a photographer, right?"

♫ sᴛᴀʏ ᴀᴡᴀʏ / ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏɴᴏʀᴀʀʏ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ♫