Annie checked the app on her watch. “Just over three thousand.” Annie loved the closeness she and Charley shared. They had been best friends since high school, forming a strong bond initially over music and then over their love of books, junk food, and scary movies. Despite what people assumed, Charley was straight and had a boyfriend of three years, but fully supported Annie’s queerness.

“I bet by the end of the night, you’ll have five thousand viewers,” Charley said.

“I hope so. Half of the sign-up sheet is new to me. My viewers really appreciate fresh sounds.”

“Harmony Hannah isn’t horrible,” Charley said.

Annie nudged her in the ribs. “Shh. The phone picks up everything. We don’t want people to hear you.” She turned around to watch Hannah. “But you’re totally right. She’s pretty decent, just not comfortable in front of a crowd.” Hannah’s glittery rainbow guitar strap reflected the spotlight, blinding everyone in the crowd when she strummed.

“High school. Who didn’t have anxiety then? She sounds like she’s wrapping up. Go save her before she melts into a puddle of awkwardness,” Charley said.

Annie quickened her pace and slid up beside Hannah right when she strummed the last note on her guitar. Annie started applauding, and the crowd picked up her cue. “Thank you, Harmony Hannah. Was that an original song?” The young musician nodded and blushed. She now understood why Hannah asked to go onstage first. Sometimes it was easier to get it over with and sit back and enjoy the rest of the night without the anxiety of counting down the minutes until stage time. “Great job.” She waited until Hannah shuffled off the stage. “Next up is a new-to-us band, Loco Motion, that just formed a month ago.” Annie ignored the rest of the biography they handed her. They were pressed for time, and this was an open mic. “Let’s give them a warm welcome.”

“They sound pretty good for being new,” Charley said when Annie returned to her spot next to the stage.

“I think so, too.” Annie liked their youthful energy. They were only a minute into their song, but she heard something she liked. Maybe it was the lead singer’s vocal agility or the way his fingers glided so smoothly along the strings of his guitar. His chord transitions were flawless. With practice, she imagined Loco Motion could go far, or the lead singer could strike out on his own. He was good enough. Since she started open mic two years ago, three performers had gone on to sign contracts with record labels. Not because of her, but Annie liked being able to say, “I knew them when.”

“What’s your schedule for tomorrow?” Charley asked softly.

“I’m headed to the hospital to play for a bit. Then I’ll be here after lunch, if that’s good?”