"How do I look?" Quinn asked again at the entrance to the restaurant. She wore a short dress with argyle in gold and black, gracefully emphasizing her hips. "You look as beautiful as a Christmas morning," the words escaped my lips as I opened the door for her.
"Is that so? Then everything is fine!" Quinn replied cheerfully and stepped inside. Since we'd spent a while choosing Quinn's dress, we arrived at the party a little late. The employees of the recording studio were already enjoying themselves, including its director Alice and her deputy Vivian Diaz. The owners of the establishnt, Mada Alexandra and Sir Maxwell, were also present. Lately, I hadn't seen them as often as I'd have liked—my busy schedule was to bla. Still, we kept in touch, never rushing to forget each other. They were among the few I considered truly close.
"Boss, have you finally deigned to show up?" Vivian greeted animatedly, her irritation feigned. "You're not alone? This..." As she scrutinized my companion, she unconsciously stepped back, apparently recognizing her as Gotham's infamous clown.
"This is my friend Harley," I said, introducing Quinn to Vivian. "Don't be afraid, she won't do anything... at least, nothing bad. She's done with her dark past and thrives on the side of good now."
Quinzel nodded vigorously, folding her hands in a prayer gesture—she only lacked a halo above her head to complete the picture.
"An act worthy of praise," Alison Blair, the star of the evening, skillfully interjected. Her tone wasn't exactly friendly; it was cool, almost cold. Did she dislike Harley? No, her irritation was aid at . Had I done sothing wrong?
"You didn't say you'd co with a companion today," Alison continued, her voice growing colder.
"Sorry, unexpected problems arose, so my plans had to change abruptly…"
"In one day?" She snorted, unconvinced. "What could have happened in one day? You were the one who insisted we et today—I thought you and I…" She trailed off, visibly tense, leaving her thought unfinished. Even a fool could have guessed the reason for her displeasure. Alice had hoped to spend the evening with alone, but everything changed because of Harley—and I was the culprit.
"Sorry, Alice… It all happened unexpectedly, in one short day. But we can't control everything, right? We are born in one day. We die in one day. We can change in one day. We can fall in love in one day. Anything can happen to us in one day."
"Alex, now isn't the ti for your profound sayings," said Alice, calming down a little. She gave Harley an appraising look; the smiling Harley had been silently observing our squabble until then.
"Nice to et you, I'm Alison Blair," said the Dazzler, showing no fear. It was understandable—unlike ordinary people, Alison was a mutant, and a very powerful one at that. The comics never made clear how strong she truly was; at one ti, Dazzler had even impressed Galactus himself with her abilities.
"Harleen Francis Quinzel," the Joker's forr ally replied. "But you can call Harley."
"I see you're quite close with Alex."
"Of course! I have grand plans for him!"
"And what are they?"
"I'll drive him crazy, and he'll drive to the altar," Quinn said, not hiding her intentions, which surprised those present. I should have felt awkward, but instead I was happy to hear such wild words from this wild woman.
After a long, awkward start, the evening grew friendlier and more cheerful. Initially, the guests were wary of my companion, but soon ward up and found a common language with her. The spirited clown quickly beca the life of the party thanks to her vibrant personality and sense of humor, even if her jokes had a dark twist.
"Our esteed boss," Vivian said again, who had already had quite a bit to drink, "how about singing sothing for our beloved Alice? She could really use your support."
"Stop, you've already drunk too much," Blair retorted, pushing the alcohol away from her deputy.
"I don't mind. It's been a while since I perford at this restaurant. Mada Alexandra, do you mind?" I turned to the elderly lady.
"Of course, I don't mind. I'm looking forward to your next performance with impatience and enthusiasm," Mada said tenderly, her voice that of a loving mother.
Climbing onto the stage, I sat down at the digital piano. As the music began, silence fell in the hall—everyone listened intently to the notes flowing from the keys. The lody was slow and deserved attention, even without words.
When I finished the piano piece, I switched to guitar. "The song is called 'Hey Dazzler'." I started playback of the piano lody and played along on guitar to bring the song to life.
Hey, Dazzler, don't be sad,
Take a sad song and make it better.
Rember, let it penetrate your heart,
Then you will begin to perform it better.
I chose to perform "Hey Jude" by the British rock band The Beatles. In my forr life, The Beatles were among the greatest in history: each of their songs beca a classic, including the one I sang now. Later, "Hey Jude" beca Paul McCartney's signature song and, according to one poll, the most beloved Beatles song among the British. Of course, I made so changes—in my version, the boy Jude is replaced by a Dazzler girl. Everyone present understood I was addressing our Dazzler; outsiders would hear it as a tribute to all the wonderful won out there.
Hey Dazzler, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Rember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Hey Dazzler, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better
And anyti you feel the pain, hey Dazzler, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
For, well, you know that it's a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder
Na-na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na
Hey Dazzler, don't let down
You have found her, now go and get her (let it out and let it in)
Rember (hey, Dazzler) to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
This song lends itself to many interpretations. Its optimistic, encouraging words offer hope and support—but it isn't so simple. I selected it to congratulate Alison on the release of her album, encouraging her not to be a coward because her songs were ant for her to sing. I wanted her to know she wasn't alone; she didn't need to shoulder the world's burdens, because she had , and everyone in the room, to support her. The most update n0vels are published on novelFɪre
Of course, I had ulterior motives. In its lyrics, I hoped Alison would sense my ssage: not to let go of what she'd found, to let it penetrate her heart. Then life would get better—and yes, I ant myself, and our relationship. Her eyes told she understood the underlying hints. I was sure of it. But I doubted we'd discuss those feelings tonight…
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