ahana

The full moon, out in all its pristine white glory shone down on the Kildare jazz bar where Jackson Genrette sat, nursing an old-fashioned. The bar buzzed with murmurs of anticipation ; anticipation for the singer who was to be the performer of the night.

Kiara Carrera.

Jackson had never been even remotely interested in music and yet had heard that name many times. She was an up and coming singer, the 'next big thing in jazz' is what frequent bar hoppers were calling her. He was indifferent to music and yet felt a twinge of curiosity whenever he heard her name.

Perhaps that was why he ended up at that bar. Or perhaps he was at the bar to drown his sorrows in alcohol after another argument with his father. Jackson's father never wanted a son and unfortunately was forced to take upon the responsibility of a child on his own when Jackson's mother passed at childbirth. This caused tensions and frequent arguments between the two.

"Fancy seeing you here"

Jackson looked up.

His best friend John Routledge grinned down at him, his wife Sarah in tow.

"Figured I'd try something different"

"And this 'something different' just coincidentally involves the woman you've been obsessed with for months?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Well-" Jackson began but was cut off as she stepped onto the podium.

There she was, in an emerald green dress that hugged her delicate frame, shimmering as she moved to the music. Her hair was styled into soft waves, framing her face elegantly. The spotlight cast an almost angelic glow on her perfect features.

Jackson felt his throat dry, awestruck even though she hadn't started singing.

She was beautiful. The kind of beauty that makes you stop in your tracks and just stare. She looked like a movie star.

And as she started singing, her lilting, soulful voice encapsulating the now- silent bar, Jackson felt his composure slowly slipping away. It was like he was in a trance and she was the hypnosis. He managed to turn to John and Sarah, and surely enough, they seemed to be in the same trance.

As he turned back to Kiara, their eyes locked. It felt like she was singing to him. A small smile briefly graced her features. The gesture was so quick, Jackson wouldn't have noticed it had he not been staring at her like a lost puppy.

The music faded and Kiara smiled, bowing and thanking the crowd for their time as the room erupted in applause.

Jackson's hands felt heavy on his drink, the old fashioned now forgotten. He felt catatonic. The world around him moved but he felt like he was stuck reliving the moment where his eyes locked with Kiara's. It felt like the air around him had shifted.

John's voice broke through his haze.

"You alright?" The man looked at his blonde friend in amusement. Jackson realised he was staring at the empty podium, Kiara had left.

"I'm fine" Jackson managed to croak, despite his throat feeling like sandpaper.

"I think you need another drink, J" Sarah commented, a knowing smirk on her face.

Jackson turned to the bartender, about to ask him for another drink when a soft voice beat him to it.

"Could I get a martini, please?"

He turned, expecting Sarah or John but his heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell on Kiara Carrera.

He nearly choked on air. She was even more beautiful up close. Her eyes were the colour of burnt caramel and held an air of mystery and mischief.

He couldn't stop staring at her as she walked away, drink in hand.

"You know staring isn't going to get you a date, right?" The bartender commented.

Jackson turned to him, recognition overwhelming him.

"Pope? Pope Heyward?"

"In the flesh" his boarding school roommate smiled at him.

Jackson hesitated, a question about why Pope was working on the top of his tongue but Pope sensed what the man wished to ask.

"I'm trying to pay my way through university myself, you know?" He leaned back, sighing "Education ain't cheap, man"

"Yeah" Jackson had decided long ago that university wasn't for him. This, of course didn't sit well with his father.

"But seriously man, go talk to her. What could go wrong?" Pope nodded to Kiara.

"Realistically, a lot" Jackson licked his lips "What, you think I should just go up to her? Hey, I liked your song, here's my number, call me maybe?"

Pope chuckled "You could always say 'Hey, I think you're amazing' or something like that"

"I don’t do that." Jackson glanced up at him. "That’s not me."

But even as he said it, he couldn’t ignore the weight of the moment that had passed between him and Kiara. The way she’d smiled at him. It wasn’t just a smile—it was an invitation, a spark that had ignited something in him.

And as if on cue, Kiara looked up at him, eyes locking once more. She smiled again, except this time it was anything but brief and fleeting.

And just like that Jackson knew what he needed to do.

"Fine, I'll talk to her" he muttered.

With the eyes of John, Pope and Sarah on him, he made his way toward the stage, trying to ignore the nerves twisting in his stomach.

When he reached her, Kiara was laughing with what he assumed was a friend, her face lit up by the dim, amber lights. Jackson hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat.

Kiara turned toward him, and her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before it returned, warm and alluring.

"Hey," she said, her voice like honey. "You enjoyed the show?"

"Absolutely," Jackson said, finding his voice at last. "You were... incredible. Really." His words felt clumsy as they tumbled out, but he didn’t care. She was here. In front of him.

"Thank you," Kiara replied, her smile softening. "It’s always nice to know when someone appreciates the music." She paused, studying him for a beat. "You’re not the typical jazz bar crowd."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Kiara laughed lightly. "Well, you don’t exactly have the 'I’m too cool for this' look. You actually look... interested."

That was when Jackson realized he was leaning in slightly, his body drawn to hers without thought. "I guess I was. I wasn’t expecting to be, but... well, you’ve got a way of pulling people in."

Her eyes twinkled, and she leaned closer, intrigued. "And here I thought you weren’t a music person."

"Yeah," Jackson said with a grin, "I guess you could say you’re making me reconsider."

Kiara smiled again, that same small, knowing smile. "I’m glad to hear it." Then, as if on impulse, she added, "So, what’s your name?"

"Jackson," he replied, surprised by how easy the answer came out.

Kiara nodded, her gaze soft. "Nice to meet you, Jackson."

"You too," he said, his voice quieter now. "I—uh—I don’t know if you’re up for company after your performance, but if you’re free, I’d love to grab a drink sometime."

She considered him for a moment, a flicker of hesitation crossing her features before it melted away into something more genuine. "I think I’d like that," she said, her smile widening.

"Great" He smiled, cheeks slightly red and walked back to Sarah, John and Pope, who wore wide grins, huddled together like best friends.

"Well, look at you," Pope said, clapping him on the back. "I didn’t think you had it in you."

"I didn’t think I did either," Jackson replied, his grin spreading across his face. "But something about her... I don’t know."

John gave him a knowing look. "You’re already thinking about her, huh?"

Jackson’s grin faded for just a moment, replaced by a quiet, introspective look. "Yeah. Maybe I am."

Sarah laughed softly. "You know, you’re actually kind of cute when you’re like this."

"Shut up," Jackson muttered, but there was no malice in his voice. He felt lighter, freer, weirdly.

And as he sat there, drinking the night away with his friends, Kiara's eyes gravitating towards him from time to time, he realized something else: he didn’t have to figure it all out tonight. He could just let it unfold, take things one step at a time.