But, I Can't Sing

Your knees quake and as you're walking up the stairs you fall on your face. Embarrassment accompanies the rush of blood coming out of your (now twice) broken nose. Your vision swims and a small hand grabs your shoulder. You gaze up and into the blurry face of a small severe-looking woman with choppy black-dyed hair. Cruel red lips part into a genuine smile and you attempt to smile back. She holds out a new t-shirt to staunch the blood from your nose and you accept. She then takes you by the hand and leads you towards the back. She points to a velvet armchair and as you sit she begins to rummage through her purse. She shakes out two pills and you...