I played it off like everything was okay, but on the inside I was freaking out. Jules and I went to the discotheque, which took my mind off of everything for the time being. "I love this song!" I yelled over the blaring Modern Love by David Bowie. She nodded at me agreeing. I felt safe in the environment, it was nothing like an American party or club. People weren't hitting on you, people most certainly were not grinding, it was just fun and if you make a new friend you make a new friend, nothing more. I'd met some of my closest Parisien friends at places like this.

I looked at a sweaty Jules dancing with some people she had just met and I decided to excuse myself, a surge coming over me that said 'get out now, or you'll have a panic attack.' I looked into my little purse that stayed strung across my hip and pulled out my lighter and a pack of Gitanes. I had started to smoke the brand in here because well that's what all the true French people smoke. I lit one letting it crawl under my skin and stay there for a while. I stood alone in front of a discotheque and I just wanted to go somewhere else, so I started walking. I smiled at the cold air, happy I had put on an oversized blazer to keep me warm. "J'adore, Paris!" I whispered to myself happily as smoke exited through more my mouth and nose.

The streets were quiet, not much going on that night I guess. As I turned the corner from Rue Saint-Jacques, I made it to a smaller street where the bar was. I smiled, knowing that I could go there and be happy alone. I texted Julie quickly, making sure to let you know I thought I might have a breakdown and that I had left. Then I entered.

The room was much darker at this time, the cream colored walls were lit with old sconces that magnified small yellow lights, but nothing more. I enjoyed it this way, I felt more at peace. There were not many people, a big table of people sat in the back and they made the most noise, but other than that there was an older wealthy gentleman sitting alone at the bar, and two couples in their mid-40s. I noticed I was standing in the doorway and staring at people, so did Alex when he turned and saw me. He smiled warmly and yelled rather loudly "Maggie! De retour si vite!" I smiled back at him laughing, but responding in english because I was so tired.

"I couldn't resist." I said, much softer than he had. I noticed the people in the restaurant all turn to look and me, probably annoyed.

"Come sit." He said. "We haven't had many people in tonight. I could use the company." I was happy to sit down at the bar and get off my feet, but I was also happy Alex was becoming a friend. He must have been 25 or 26 maybe and he understood me rather well.

Having decided on not drinking beer that night, I was finishing off my third glass of red wine, a cabernet that I never wanted to leave my lips, when I decided music would be a good thing. "Alex.." I called as he made a drink for the older man. "Can we listen to music in here?"

"Why don't you just play something?" He asked, I had told him all about my love for music, but I was far too shy to ever do anything with it.

"No, no, I couldn't. Plus, I don't even play the piano!" I said, overjoyed to have found a way out of playing. I looked over at the little stage on the side that was open to the whole place. The sad, but ever so beautiful piano seemed to be just another piece of artwork because it was never played.

"I might have something in the back for you." He said scurrying into the back office. When he came back, he had a guitar in one hand and a microphone stand in the other.

"You've got be kidding me!" I laughed.

"You have to do it now! Please, how does that ridiculous phrase go? Please with drizzle on top?" He put a stool on the stage, turning on the lights to shine on it, then placing the mic stand in front of it. He held the guitar out in front of him for me to take. I giggled once again at him

"Fine, I'll do it. And it's 'with cherries on top.'" Taking the guitar from him, I walked up to the stage, my heels clacking with every step. Getting into the light, I looked down at myself. I took off my blazer so I wasn't so ugly. That left me in my outfit for clubbing, although French clubbing was much more classy than any other culture. I actually felt kind of pretty, something I normally didn't feel at all. I got up onto the stool and felt some eyes turn to watch what I was about to do. "Bonjour à tous, j'espère que vous passez une nuit merveilleuse! Je m'appelle Maggie et oui, je suis américaine. J'espère que tu aimes ce que tu entends." I tried thinking of a song quickly to play, but it took me a minute to actually get a good one. I began playing Winning Streak by Glen Hansard. I remembered the first time I had seen him play. He came to the Fox in Detroit, his music didn't fight to stay in my heart, it won immediately. I had lived years without it, I didn't know what I was missing. My fingers began first and then my voice rang out after that. It was my truth, the lyrics were how I felt about life and everyone in it.

"Through summers long and

Winters cold

May you always have someone good to hold

And may good fortune wait on every bend

And may your winning streak

May it never end

So, roll the dice, boy

'Cause my money's on you

Take my advice now and put your money down too

Because there's something in the eye you can't pretend

And may your winning streak

May it never end

And may the sign of the Southern Cross

Be some comfort to you when you're lost

And may the devil's evil eye

Pass you by

Well, it's not for glory, I tell you true

That I do these things I do for you

But for a promise I made now I must defend

And may your winning streak

May it never end

Hey

And may the sign of the cross

Be some comfort when you're lost,

Help you when you're all broke down

May the spirit of good brethren, turn you around

And may the devil's evil eye, pass you right by

Don't you look back my friend

And may the sisters of good charity

Take you in

Through summers long and

Winters cold

May you always have someone good to hold

And may good fortune be a constant and a loyal friend

And may your winning streak

May it never end

May your winning streak

May it never end

May your winning streak

May it never end."

As I finished, people were clapping. More people must have entered because it was louder and some people were standing trying to get drinks at the bar. I looked to Alex, who signaled me to keep going. I looked at the dark glob of people. The group in the back had turned all their chairs to watch me and the couples shifted. The rest of the people made their way to tables, but there wasn't enough, so the bar was the last result. I smiled at everyone. "How is everyone?" I laughed out. A unison cheer came. "I figured I would just speak english if you don't mind. I don't want to kill you with my French." I heard laughs. "This next song, it's very special to me, by a very special artist. It's a song of love, I think we could all use a little more of that in our lives. This song is for J, wherever he is, this is for you, this is for the love you gave and the I felt." I couldn't believe I had said that, but it came out anyway. Then I started Goodbye Again, the John Denver song I had listened to the night... well the night that he...

"It's five o'clock this morning, and the sun is on the rise

There's frosting on the window pane, and sorrow in your eyes

The stars are fading quietly, the night is nearly gone

And so you turn away from me, and tears begin to come

And it's goodbye again, I'm sorry to be leavin' you

Goodbye again, as if you didn't know

It's goodbye again, and I wish you could tell me

Why do we always fight when I have to leave

It seems a shame to leave you now, the days are soft and warm

I long to lay me down again, to hold you in my arms

I long to kiss the tears away, give you back the smile

Other voices beckon me, to go a little while

And it's goodbye again, I'm sorry to be leavin' you

Goodbye again, as if you didn't know

It's goodbye again, and I wish you could tell me

Why do we always fight when I have to leave

Have to go and see some friends of mine, some that I don't know

Some who aren't familiar with my name,

It's something that's inside of me not hard to understand

It's anyone who listens to me sing

And if your hours are empty now, who am I to blame

You think if I were always here, our love would be the same

As it is the time we have, is worth the time alone

And lying by your side, the greatest peace I've ever known

But it's goodbye again, I'm sorry to be leavin' you

Goodbye again, as if you didn't know

It's goodbye again, and I wish you could tell me

Why do we always fight when I have to leave."

I was crying, I was really crying. Not hard enough for all the people to see, but tear rolled down my cheeks and I smiled. I can't remember the last time I had sung that or even thought about that night. The clapping from the audience was even louder, more and more people came in. There must really have been nothing that night. "You guys want to hear a few more?" I asked.

"Oui!"

"Yes!"

"Hell yeah!"

"Belle continue!" I smiled out, my cheeks were hurting from how wide my grins were. I played A Case of You, another song that reminded me of him. After that though, I decided it was best to not play the songs that reminded me of him in front of other people. From there I started to play others, some Neil Young, some Patti Smith, and of course some Bob Dylan. I finished my little performance with Joan Baez's rendition of Farewell Angelina.

"Thank you all for an amazing night, you've truly made it great! Merci, merci!" As the claps quieted down, I made my way over to the bar, specifically to Alex. "I can't believe I just did that!" I yelled at him, pretending like I might hit him.

"You're so good, I wasn't expecting that."

"I had a good teacher." I smiled softly.

"Drink?" He asked.

"I might go out back for a smoke? Do you mind? I'll make it quick." He nodded, letting me go through to the backdoor to a little alley way. It was right off another little street. I rested my back against the building quickly lighting my cigarette. My head was spinning. There was a big black car parked behind the building and I looked at it suspiciously, you weren't allowed a car back here. I smoked another cigarette, just to help myself come down even more. As I made my way back into the bar, people were speaking loudly to one another, I couldn't hear myself think. "Alex?" I said.

"Oui."

"There's a car parked out back. Shouldn't it be taken away?" I asked.

"No, that's someone's car in here. We couldn't get it picked up. Plus it's not hurting anyone." I nodded, knowing he was right. "The table in the back, they sent you this. Weird taste, but I'm French, so I guess I should like it."

"They're not French?"

"No, Americans, well most of them anyway." I nodded and looked at the drink he pushed in front of me. It was a Black Russian. I jumped back at the thought, it couldn't be a coincidence.