Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Now, what should Kai interpret in his dance?” Savage asks the crowd, beckoning to them to throw out ideas. “Come on now, don’t be shy. Shout out your ideas.”
Several people call out their suggestions, but it’s Reed’s idea—“woodland creatures”—that makes Savage light up and point exuberantly at him. “Yes! Woodland creatures, it is! Laila?”
After stretching out her fingers dramatically, Laila shakes out her hair like she’s starring in a shampoo commercial, and with those two bits of preparation out of the way, the maestro lays her talented fingers on her keys and launches into a joyful, uplifting sonata that inspires Kai to flit around the makeshift dance floor like a woodland creature, much to everyone’s belly-laughing delight.
When Kai’s dancing is done and Savage has ruled his dare officially satisfied, the birthday boy turns to his next victim, Titus, and offers him the same three choices. And like Kai before him, Ruby’s brother chooses to entertain the party with another interpretative dance.
“What should Titus interpret for us?” Savage bellows to the crowd from his perch on Laila’s piano bench.
Suggestions pour in. But this time, it’s C-Bomb who offers the winning idea that gets Savage’s juices flowing: “A man with explosive diarrhea who’s desperately looking for a bathroom in a long hallway, but all the doors are locked.”
As everyone guffaws at the suggestion, Laila launches into a classical piece on her gorgeous piano—a frantic, foreboding tune that perfectly fits Titus’s over-the-top, frenzied dance movements. To put it mildly, Titus’s performance is a huge hit. Even bigger than Kai’s.
“Fitzy?” Savage asks his wife sitting at his feet. “Do you want to do a dare, baby?”
“Yes, but not here, my love. Dare me tonight, when we’re all alone, and I promise I’ll do anything you want, Birthday Boy.”
The party whoops at that, and Savage plays up the moment for a long beat, making everyone laugh and cheer even louder. Finally, however, the birthday boy returns to the task at hand by selecting his next victim down the line: Ruby. The woman who’s got no idea she’s about to become my fiancée. My future wife. God willing, anyway.
“Ruby Duby,” Savage says solemnly, leveling her with every ounce of his world-famous charisma. “Would you like to perform an original poem, song, or interpretative dance for the party?”
“A song.”
The crowd cheers.
“That is, if Laila is okay with me borrowing her beautiful piano for a few minutes?”
“Please, do.”
As the rowdy crowd titters and claps, Savage and Laila both vacate the piano bench, and Ruby gets herself situated. Like Laila before her, Ruby stretches out her fingers like a virtuoso preparing to play at Carnegie Hall, and a moment later, Ruby begins playing a dramatic, foreboding introduction that could easily be something from Phantom of the Opera.
The crowd is transfixed, holding their collective breath in anticipation of whatever lyrics Ruby’s going to pair with this dramatic instrumentation. But when Ruby knows she’s got everyone here in the palm of her hand, she pauses in her playing, ever so briefly, with her head slung back and her eyes closed, before lifting her head, hunching over, and launching into a two-chord, up-and-down banger that’s straight out of a circus.
Everyone guffaws at the sudden shift in tone, and a moment later, Ruby sings, “Savage sang Laila, tried to sell it as la-la. We all knew the truth, though, our rockstar was a gone-ah. And now, a soon-to-be daddaaa!”
The crowd cheers.
“Ooooh, nothing makes me gladda, than a fuckboy breaking freeeeeeeee! And finding the soulmate that makes him so happyyyyyyyy!”
Again, the party cheers, while Savage and Laila snuggle and laugh their asses off.
Ruby continues singing, “Oh, Mister Savage, do you know the old adage? Happy wife, happy life. Happy man, happy band. We’re all so happy for you, Adri-an. So happy, I can’t make a joke about that. Now, to your future kiddo: Oh, the places you’ll go! And wherever that is, always know, you’ll have your Auntie Ruby in tow to love you like her ooooooown!” Ruby plays a chord and lets the sound reverberate for a beat through the room—long enough to signal the ending to her masterpiece and elicit hoots and applause. But just as the applause starts in earnest, Ruby belts out her final line with enthusiasm, drawing out every syllable for emphasis: “Happy birthday, Savage!” Finally, with her song officially completed, she throws back her head dramatically and plays a rumble on the piano, while the crowd applauds loudly and raucously.
As the crowd continues expressing its approval, Ruby gets up from the piano bench and takes a demure bow, before accepting a hug from both Savage and Laila.
But when our hosts are done loving up on my future wife, I pull her to me and gush about how awesome that was, almost forgetting . . .
“Okay, KC,” Savage says. “You’re up.”