The Howling Voice of a Mute Beauty
The room was dark, and the people are sitting on their tables, waiters are serving them foods, and their eyes are glued at the people on the stage.
I signed at the drummer to stop for a bit and held my mic, positioning it in front of my mouth where I will not have difficulty once I played the guitar.
"Good evening, Everyone. For those who are new here, my name is Tayla."
My eyes darted at the two men who just entered the bar. They are tall, probably comparable to those basketball players in our University. The one is wearing a pair of eyeglasses, and the other one is just sporting his man bun.
Bab Populer