Page 1
CHAPTER ONE
Felicity
The comedy club buzzes with frenetic energy, laughter and chatter mingling in the dimly lit space. I stand just inside the entrance, gripping the strap of my bag like it’s a lifeline. The sharp tang of alcohol and the faint smell of stale popcorn assault my senses, pulling me deeper into the reality of this place.
My heart races, each beat echoing the surrounding din. This job, this sanctuary of humor, it's a world away from the chaos I escaped. But tonight, it feels different—more alive, more intense. I can almost hear Raj's deep, rumbling laugh from the back, a sound that always cuts through the noise and finds me, grounding me in the present moment.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that ripple through me. I know he’ll be on stage soon, and the thought sends a thrill down my spine. I’ve seen him perform countless times, but each set feels like the first, his sharp wit and easy charm never failing to captivate me.
"First night?" A voice cuts through the noise, snapping me back to the present.
I turn to see a woman in her thirties with platinum blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her bright red lipstick matches her shirt, emblazoned with the club's logo. She looks all business, her posture confident and assertive, but there's a softness in her eyes that makes me relax just a bit. She smiles warmly, and I feel a flicker of connection, a hint that maybe this place isn't as intimidating as it seems.
"Yeah," I nod, my voice almost drowned out by a burst of laughter from the main room.
"You’ll be fine," she says, handing me an apron. "Name’s Tina. Just follow my lead and you’ll get the hang of it."
I tie the apron around my waist, feeling its weight settle like an anchor. "Thanks, Tina."
She offers a quick smile before diving back into the fray, weaving between tables with practiced ease. I watch her for a moment, taking mental notes. Her movements are fluid, like she’s done this a thousand times, and I admire her confidence. Gathering my courage, I step forward, ready to follow her lead. The hum of conversation and laughter fills the air, and I remind myself to breathe. I can do this.
The room is alive with movement and noise, with glasses clinking, chairs scraping, comedians testing their material on stage. It’s chaos, but there’s an underlying rhythm to it. I focus on that rhythm, letting it guide me.
"Hey! Can we get another round over here?" A man waves from a table near the stage, his friends already half-drunk and boisterous.
"On it," I reply, moving toward them with a confidence I don't quite feel yet.
I juggle drink orders and dodge rowdy patrons, slowly finding my groove. It's hard work, but there's something satisfying about it. Each successful delivery feels like a small victory, a reminder that I can handle this chaotic environment. The adrenaline pumps through me, minglingwith the laughter and chatter around me, giving me a sense of belonging I haven't felt in a long time.
Between orders, I steal glances at the stage where Raj—one of the club’s regular comedians—is performing. His humor is sharp and effortless, drawing laughter like a magnet. There's an undeniable charm about him that pulls at me despite my best efforts to remain guarded.
A loud crash from behind startles me, and I whirl around to see another server dropping a tray of glasses. My heart races as shards scatter across the floor. Tina, ever the unflappable one, swoops in to help her, unfazed by the mess. She flashes me a reassuring smile, and I can't help but admire her calmness under pressure.
"I can do this," I whisper to myself, tightening my grip on my tray. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses becomes a distant hum as I focus on steadying my breath.
With renewed determination, I step back into the chaos. The bar is a whirlwind of activity—servers weaving through the crowd, bartenders mixing drinks with flair, and patrons losing themselves in Raj's performance. I'm ready to face whatever the night throws at me, even if my heart still flutters every time I glance his way.
I hustle backstage, balancing a tray of drinks and trying to navigate the narrow corridor. My heart thumps in my chest, partly from the adrenaline of my first night and partly from the proximity to Raj’s booming laughter echoing from the stage. I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I can handle this.
As I turn a corner, I collide with something solid. The tray tips, and in slow motion, the drinks fly off, crashing to the ground. My eyes widen in horror as liquid splashes up, drenching the front of Raj's shirt.
"Shit!" My voice comes out in a panickedsqueak as I scramble to pick up the pieces. "I'm so sorry!" I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks, mortified by my clumsiness.
Raj looks down at his soaked shirt, then up at me with those warm brown eyes. His expression shifts from surprise to something softer—amusement? He runs a hand through his black hair, now glistening slightly from the drink.
"No harm done," he says, his voice a deep rumble. He chuckles softly, a sound that somehow eases my anxiety and makes my heart race at the same time. "I've had worse things thrown at me on stage," he adds with a wink, his warm brown eyes twinkling with amusement.
I scramble to pick up the broken glass, my face burning with embarrassment. "I didn't see you there," I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper. My hands are shaking slightly as I gather the shards, trying to avoid his gaze.
"Guess I'm just too stealthy for my own good," he jokes, crouching down beside me to help pick up the pieces. His presence is overwhelming up close, his scent a woodsy cologne that is something uniquely him. The warmth of his body radiates towards me, making it even harder to concentrate on the task at hand.
I can't help but laugh despite myself. "Yeah, or maybe I’m just too clumsy for my own good," I quip, my voice lightening as I glance up at him. His warm brown eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the tension eases. The way he looks at me, with amusement and something deeper, makes my stomach flip.
His hand brushes mine as we both reach for the same shard of glass. The touch sends a jolt through me and I pull back quickly, nearly losing my balance. He steadies me with a firm grip on my arm.
"You okay?" His eyes search mine, concern flickering behind the humor. The warmth in his gaze makes my heart skip a beat, and I can't help but feel a strange comfort inhis presence. It's like he's genuinely worried about me, and that thought tugs at something deep inside.
"Yeah," I breathe out, my voice shaky. "Just... not how I imagined meeting one of the club’s headliners." I force a small laugh, trying to lighten the moment, but the intensity in his eyes holds me captive. His grip on my arm is firm yet gentle, and the warmth from his touch radiates through me, making me acutely aware of every point of contact.