After Alex straightened up his flat a bit- just in case he had a visitor over the weekend, he paid a trip to the fridge again and, much to his dismay, found it completely empty save for a few bottles of beer and a dwindling pack of water bottles. No food. He checked the cupboards and found some saltines and a jar of peanut butter. It concerned him how quickly food things vanished in his flat when he was the only one living in it.

Or, as he recalled, there was going to be an open mic night tonight at the diner. There was much to earn in way of tips there, but it was great for publicity. And the food was great. He knew one of the waitresses and a little flirting always got him a discount. He grabbed Iskra since she was already out, put her in the case, and left.

He was already chowing down on a burger and some fries in a booth by himself, save for Iskra who sat in the booth beside him. It was also one of the few diners in the area that had a smoking section, which was opposite the non-smoking section, but still gave him a decent view of the stage. He signed himself up, but he was a little later in line, so he had plenty of time to hang out. 

He was polishing off his fries when a guy about his age took the stage with nothing but a mic and some background music. He never saw him take the stage before, but when he heard the first line the guy dropped, Alex was pleasantly surprised. He had style, he had talent and substance, but the feeling he was putting out was so strong and so, well, relatable it was off-putting for some members of the audience. 

Personally, Alex was fascinated. His English wasn't so great that he picked up every lyric, but he got the idea. He had sat through enough first-timers with their awkward karaoke covers or lovesick or heartbroken original indie songs to make himself sick, but this guy mixed it up. The game changed now. Belatedly, he realized the guy was walking off the stage and he was supposed to be applauding. His eyes followed him to a table in the corner and put his head in his hands. Damn. Maybe he should say something. He was hardly a veteran, but he knew exactly what the guy was going through. 

He slid out of his booth, confident that no one would steal Iskra in the few minutes he left her alone, and crossed the diner to the guy. He put his hand on the back of one of the empty chairs at the table.

"Hey," He said to get his attention, "First time, right?" His accent coated his words, but he knew English well enough to be understood when speaking. "You did a great job. Very impressive."