karaoke is a waste of time

I checked my phone and glanced up at the neon lights.

KBO Karaoke

Yeah, that was it. It was some little hole-in-the-wall bar wedged between an empty storefront and a 24-hour ramen shop. I must have passed it before on my way home and just never noticed it. 

The lights flickered, and I looked away from the glare. 

Why, out of all the karaoke bars in Shinjuku, did my friends decide to come here?

They knew I hated karaoke - they should have at least picked somewhere that had good food. I’d bet anything that this place was going to be terrible in every sense of the word. It was cheap, I guess. That was about the only thing it had going for it.

The streets were busy, even more than usual, for a Friday night. It had been raining like crazy the past few days, so much so that puddles still lingered in every alley. People were desperate to get out and enjoy the evening until the storms came back. Typical for June weather, but the rain never bothered me.

The neon lights buzzed over my head. I had to step aside to let two people pass by, watching them walk down the stairs with all the grace one would expect of two drunk salary workers.

Ping!

I looked back down at my phone.

<< Yo! Daiki - where are you?>>

I guess my friends hadn’t forgotten about my promise to show up tonight. Even though I had better things to do - like study. I was a first year at Tokyo University; I had been one of the top students my entire life, and I planned on continuing that until graduation. Math, Business, Science, you name it - if I didn’t have a 100%, it was damn close.

I let out a sigh and made my way down the narrow dark stairwell into the basement bar, leaving the noisy sounds of the street behind me.

<< Room B3>>

My phone pinged again.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered with a shake of my head. I pocketed my phone and walked past the front desk, making my way through the narrow aisles of private karaoke rooms.

It smelled like smoke and sweat and booze. I knew why my friends picked this place - no one checked ID. I’d find all of them drunk off their asses by now, I was sure of it. I was the only one who still went to cram school.

If my parents knew about the kind of people I hung out with - well, didn’t need to worry about that anyways.

I squinted in the dark, looking for the right room.

“Love is like a melody, so sweet and true, it's the rhythm of my heart, it's all because of you!”

I heard a voice - it was like something I had never heard before. It echoed out from one of the rooms, just barely loud enough. Then it stopped, and I snapped back to my senses.

“What was the room number again?” I muttered to myself, ignoring the muffled sounds of other partying groups.

B3 - That’s it!

I pushed open the sliding door. “Sorry I’m late,” I said, knowing they hated the formality.

Quiet.

I looked up from the floor to see a girl in the tiny party room. Alone. She had a microphone in her hand, and she was dressed in a high school uniform, complete with a plaid skirt and socks pulled up to her knees. Her hair was pink and tied in pigtails. Her big blue eyes were framed with a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose.

The girl stared at me for a second. Her face went as pink as her hair. “Get out!” She screamed as if I had just walked in on something private.

I dodged the microphone as she threw it.

“Sorry! I exclaimed. “I’m sorry - I thought - Isn’t this room B3?”

The girl growled, gritting her teeth. She stomped over to me and jabbed her finger next to the door frame. “B-13!” She said.

It was obvious now - someone had picked off the 1. I could see where the paint used to be, leaving a scar on the wall. This place was so rundown I hadn’t noticed before, and the dim lighting didn’t help.

“Oh,” I muttered. “Sorry. My bad.”

I stooped down to pick up the microphone.

The girl hesitated before snatching it out of my hand.

“Just so you know,” I said, trying to clear the air. “I’m not some pervert. I was meeting my friends. I thought this was their room.”

The girl looked at me, analyzing my words and expression like some sort of cute supercomputer trying to catch me in a lie.

“Ok,” She said finally, holding the microphone close to her chest.

A moment of silence stretched between us. The awkwardness swelled like a giant balloon. I was no good at talking to girls, and this situation made it even worse.

“Anyways,” I coughed. “Sorry again.”

“Whatever,” She said. She acted annoyed, but the blush on her cheeks told me she was embarrassed more than anything else.

I started to slide the door closed, stealing one last glance at her.

The girl didn’t turn her back until the door was almost closed.

I should have walked away then, but something in me didn’t want to move just yet. The music started up again, and I heard the same beautiful voice.

“Love is like a melody, so sweet and true, it's the rhythm of my heart; it's all because of you!”

So that voice that I heard, it was her. The pink-haired high school girl.

I edged closer to the closed door, catching the faintest sounds of her singing through the padded walls. I shouldn’t have been surprised that a sketchy place like this would have cheaped out on soundproofing.

That girl’s voice was enchanting. It was better than anything I had ever heard - angelic. Maybe even better than that, I thought, even though I probably wasn’t the best judge of anything artistic at all. Her voice gave me goosebumps.

“Every moment spent together feels so right. In your arms, I find my shining light!”

Someone walked by, giving me a weird look.

Oh, right. I probably looked like some creepy stalker. I had to leave before people got the wrong idea.

I kept my hand on the door for another moment, savoring the sounds of her voice one last time before continuing down the aisle to find the right booth.