The Substitute

I woke up naked and disoriented.

Across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, was a guy named Jake, looking all smug as he exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke.

"That's for taking my business, Danny. I slept with his girl; we're even now."

Dude, you've got the wrong girl. I'm not Danny's girl. I'm just the stand-in for that messed-up rich kid!

1

Danny, the trust fund baby, came to Club Lux for the first time, and he immediately fixated on Brittany.

He had Brittany join him for drinks, then, because that wasn’t romantic enough, he demanded I sing backup for them.

In the VIP room, he declared to her, "Brittany, I'm into you."

Brittany's reply? "Thanks, Danny."

“Be my girlfriend, okay? A real girlfriend. I’ll take care of you, and you can stop working nights.”

“You want to buy me? Sorry, I'm not for sale."

They were playing out some cheesy soap opera, and I, the totally invisible side character, was stuck in the corner, just singing to create some mood.

The song was “A Thousand Goodbyes” by Priscilla Chan, which Danny had personally requested.

After the first go-round, Danny, who had eyes only for Brittany, turned to me and said, "Don't change the song. Play it on repeat. Ten times.”

I was suffering.

After an hour or so, the rich kid finally lost patience and switched his tune.

"You won't 'sell out,' huh? Fine. You're gonna drink your fill tonight." He pointed at a line of shot glasses filled with liquor. "Five hundred bucks a shot, Brittany."

"Man, I should get in on this," I thought. I wanted some of those.

Brittany didn’t say a word. She picked up a glass and downed it.

By shot number eight, she was running out to the bathroom, puking.

Danny was lounging on the sofa, looking all angsty.

I sidled up to him: “Hey Danny, I’ll take her place. How’s $200 a shot?”

Danny didn’t even look at me. "Keep the music going," he mumbled.

That night, Brittany drank 20 shots and walked away with a five-figure tip. I sang “A Thousand Goodbyes” about 50 times, my throat raw, and only got the basic $100 tip.

Ugh, talk about a raw deal.

For days, Danny showed up, ordered Brittany, and spent like it was going out of style.

But you can’t buy love, as they say.

Brittany just would not agree to be his girlfriend.

2

Then Danny disappeared, probably having given up.

I told Brittany, "You crushed the poor guy's heart."

Brittany just shrugged. "I've got plenty of customers. He's no big deal."

Whatever.

Brittany, I had to admit, could get away with that attitude.

She was stunning, aloof and mysterious—the most sought-after girl at our club.

One morning, around 3 am, I was ready to hit the hay when my phone rang. It was a voice message from Danny.

His voice sounded hollow and exhausted, “I can’t sleep. Could you sing for me? I’ll pay you.”

Well, that’s one way to spend your money.

"Sure, what do you want to hear?”

"A Thousand Goodbyes."

Again with "A Thousand Goodbyes"! I didn’t get it, what was his obsession with that dusty old song?

...