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The Fiore

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Stanley Uris was a failure. A brat. A rich kid who lived off of his daddy’s money. That’s how people saw him at least. But the truth was that Stanley was a musician. He had been banging on the keys of his mother’s grand piano since he was just 6 years old. The treasure had sat in the upstairs foyer right next to a light gray sofa he was never allowed to play on. Stanley didn’t have a problem with that though. He was a good kid. The one who never got in trouble. The one who always had a 4.0. You could imagine the shock and horror on his parents face when he told them that he did not want to go to college, but in fact start a career in music. “But Stanley dear, you could be a lawyer with those grades! Don’t waste your potential!” His mother had cried. But Stanley’s mind was already made up. He was going to be a musician.

Nothing Stanley wanted had gone exactly to plan. His father had offered to pay for his apartment until he got a job, but that was taking a lot longer than expected. 6 months into what would be his freshman year of college, and Stanley had still not found a job. Day after day, coffee after coffee, Stanley was starting to run out of options. “You could become a street busker!” His friend Eddie had enthusiastically suggested. “Who would listen to a classical pianist on the street? Besides, buskers don’t make anything.” Stanley replied sharply. “Neither do you!” Eddie argued. Touche. “I’m just saying, the son of Donald Uris running off to be a jobless musician does a number on your whole family’s reputation. You might as well be doing something.” Stanley just rolled his eyes. Eddie took a sip of his cappuccino and glared at him. “Now we have more important manners to discuss.” Eddie whispered. “Why is that barista so hot?” Eddie said as Stan laughed. “Go talk to him!” Stanley exclaimed. Eddie shrugged and went for it. While Eddie was gone, Stan saw a man approaching him. The man was very friendly looking, but was dressed like some loaded lawyer. Dressed like his dad. “Hi, I’m Ben Hanscom.” The man said and stuck out his hand. “I’m Stanley. Stanley Uris.” Stan said while shaking Ben’s hand. “Yeah I know. I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re Donald Uris’s son.” Ben said curiously. Stanley was nervous. “I manage the Fiore club and bar just a few blocks away. We like to keep a high reputation and we would like to warmly invite one of this town’s most prestigious lawyer’s son to play for us.” Ben smiled at him. Oh god. Stanley knew what it felt like to be used for his social status. People had been using him ever since he was little. But Stanley didn’t think he had a choice this time. He knew the pay would be good, and he didn’t have a lot of time before his father's monthly check ran out of money. So he did what he could. “Would you like to come audition for us this afternoon?” Ben asked. “Uh, sure.”

“So how’d it go?” Eddie asked him as he walked out of The Fiore. “I got the job.” Stanley awkwardly smiled. It didn’t take much for them to pat him on the back and tell him he starts on monday. The only reason they made him audition was to make sure he didn’t sound like a toddler on crack. He knew the real reason he got the job. Hell, Ben had been quite blatant about that. “We would like to warmly invite one of this town’s most prestigious lawyer’s son to play for us.” Stanley couldn’t blame the man too much for his honesty. Ben didn’t even look like he could lie. Like it would make him break into hives or something. The audition was small and intimate. The noir black concert piano sat on a small LED lit stage close to the bar. It looked like a scene straight from a movie besides the obvious lack of people. Ben and a tall, dark, and kind man sat on bar stools while Stanley worked away at the piano. He later discovered the other man’s name was Mike Hanlon, and that he and Ben had started this club together a couple years prior. They just sat there and smiled at him while he played. In most instances, he would feel extremely uncomfortable in a place like this. Too loud, too judgy, but with Ben and Mike smiling at him, it might not be so bad afterall.