Epilogue
Asher Hart
The club was quiet when I entered. I usually showed up early before we opened on Saturdays to set up the karaoke system. But my feet were dragging today. Over the past few weeks, I’d come to dread karaoke night. Ever since I’d performed that idiotic song about watching some girl singing karaoke, a horde of women had flooded the stage every Saturday, butchering that very same piece, as if I’d automatically think their performance was better than hers had been.
I never did. She never came back. And I grew even moodier.
I blamed my coworkers entirely.
Every single f*****g one of my friends at the bar had paired off. Even the new guy Knox had snagged Felicity—the lucky bastard. It was messing with my head, making me write stupid songs about girls I didn’t even know and
