A rapid set of taps on the table brought her out of her dreamlike state. The diner zoomed in around her, complete with it's cacophonous clientele, and more pressingly, the large man hovering beside the table she'd unceremoniously fallen asleep at. At least that's what her head told her, with an urge to yawn and the need to blink several times to even make out the world. The outside world once more brought with it an invasive assault on all of the senses, though the stink of food was certainly the most volatile aggressor this day.

"This ain't a hotel, kid. Order something, or get out." 

She waved him off with an unstable flail and a nod, trying to catch her bearings. That argument back at her parents' had really taken it's toll. Such a bother. And now you had some guy working for this 'fine' establishment playing warden. Why was she even here? Some vague hope that open mic night would put a shine to a day that'd turned out horrible. An open medium for what was working up to be a very Blues-y song, perhaps. 

"Coffee, then." She murmured half-asleep, but it was good enough for the man who finally left her alone, trundled off back behind his counter. She should probably take off before he came back with some coffee that wasn't worth the price. Pushing up, she escaped her table to plod tiredly towards the exit. She'd just about had enough of this particular da-..

[i]"If you love me let me GOOO!!!"[/i]

The mere power in the voice from the shoddy stage in the diner made her stop against her better judgement. Watched the man on the stage intently as he poured his everything into the microphone, to a crowd that quite possibly wasn't expecting just such an envigorating performance. But it found her. He had talent. She was amazed. Not because of the song perhaps, but how he'd captured everyone. While some may choose to see the rush off the stage, Jen elects to watch the crowd as some clap, and others just watch stunned. But for a few moments, everyone watches. The world cares.

Maybe she should say something. The halfway plod back into the diner proper is cut short when another guy flanks the recent singer and starts talking to him. She'd just be intruding. Guy's obviously going though a lot. But she'd have that coffee. Maybe give playing a go. Just then she caught someone rising from her previous table. She watched him slide towards the stage with just about no confidence. That stage was a confidence-killer, though. 

Giving the previous performer a few glances during the new guy's - Blake, apparently - show, Jen slid down into her previous seat. Standing up made you seem way-too-enthused or just odd. She didn't want to lose track of the guy though. For better or worse, she felt like someone should appreciate his effort more than a handful of claps. If she was -that- good at singing, she'd want to know.

The guy on the stage was no pushover either. This was quality mic night, apparently, and she'd almost skipped out on it. The entertainment value was fairly high too, with the awkward bowing and skipping off stage. There was a smattering of applause this time too. The people of this fine establishment were expecting someone to screech a country song and got quality. Probably. She remains seated at her - now his - table when the pianist returns, offering him a casual, subdued smile. He seems to be in his own world though.

"Nice." She eloquently suggests across with a voice still unused from her recent-enough sleep. Maybe she too should get on the stage. First she'd need that coffee, though..