The last note fell, ending with two single notes on the guitar.
Silence filled the venue.
If "And the Days to Come" brought everyone the sweetness of a first love, then "Sorrow Fish" was a kind of sorrowful emptiness.
"And the Days to Come" was too light-hearted, so many imitated it; although Senior Sister sang it better than most, there were still voices of skepticism.
But when "Sorrow Fish" ended, those who had mocked and jeered finally conceded, utterly convinced.
The next moment, somebody started clapping.
Soon, the venue erupted with thunderous applause.
Shi Mei looked down at the watch on her wrist, slightly curled her lips, and whispered, "Thank you."
"Can we request songs?"
"I want to hear ’Child’!"
"I want to hear ’My Days After You Die.’"
"Sorry," Shi Mei unplugged her guitar’s power, looking at the audience below, "there’s only two minutes left, not enough to sing a whole song."
With that, the crowd exploded.
"We’ve only heard two songs, and you’re done singing?"
"I paid money to come here just to hear you sing, and you’re calling time this quickly? Wasting my time?"
"No, sing a few more!"
"Yeah, sing a few more, how much for a bouquet? I’ll buy you flowers!"
Bars require live singers to be paid when they perform.
But this money isn’t called a song request fee, nor is it a tip; it’s paid through staff or other employees who go ’buy flowers’ to give to the singers.
Of course, this money isn’t actually used to buy flowers; it’s split between the bar and the singer.
Shi Mei, watching the commotion below, gently whistled and said, "I’ve made it clear with the boss, I only sing for fifteen minutes a day, and now I have one minute and seventeen seconds left. I can interact with you all a bit; you can ask me questions, and when the time’s up, I’ll leave."
The audience below was even more uproarious.
"Isn’t that a bit too diva-ish?"
"Darn it, what’s with this crappy boss hiring such a singer?"
"Sing a few more songs at least, just singing two is too perfunctory."
"Only one minute left." Shi Mei snapped her fingers, "If there’s nothing else, I’m off work."
"Wait a minute!" A burly man stepped out from the crowd, "You said we could ask you questions, right?"
"Yes." Shi Mei glanced his way, the corners of her mouth curling slightly, her voice lazy.
The burly man’s previous intimidating demeanor somehow weakened considerably.
He asked, "What’s your main job?"
"Running errands, this is part-time."
"How much do you earn?"
"Not enough to live on."
The burly man’s attitude softened a lot, though there was a sense of coercive persuasion as he said, "Then switch jobs. I’m a staff member for ’Behind the Scenes Star.’ If you join us, you won’t need to go through auditions; I’ll put you straight into the competition rounds."
His voice wasn’t quiet, and it stirred another wave of noise below.
"Openly pulling strings?"
"66666 Nice! Say yes to him!"
"Jump ship, jump ship! If you make it on ’Behind the Scenes Star,’ that’s pretty much making your debut, right? Then would you still worry about not making a living?"
"Go for it, you believe that? The kind of skill and temper this Senior Sister has, are you blind? How could someone like her be content with running errands?"