The bar was packed. Millie had just finished her performance. She bowed and left the stage, acoustic guitar on hand. While she was approaching the table where Emma was waiting for her, some people were telling her how great she was that night. She would smile and walk faster, her eyes always avoiding others’.

She finally sat. The noise coming from Emma’s sucking what little was left of her drink through the straw was a huge contrast from Millie’s folk pop songs from a while ago. Millie started to tap her finger on her own hand. When Emma finished, she asked:

"Come on, Millie Vanilla. It’s not that I’m against your kind of music, but can you try to make us dance a little every once in a while?"

"I don’t know, Emma. That’s not my style. And please don’t call me Vanilla."

"Look. If you don’t change your whatever-the-heck you call that, you won’t get out of this hole."

"If it’s a hole, why do you come?"

"Because I love you, silly."

Emma snapped her fingers. Since the waitress didn’t approach the table, she started snapping her fingers over and over again, until she came.

"Sorry. I was at another table."

"Yeah, well. We need some beers. Get us some, please."

"Sure."

"Wait," interrupted Millie. "I don’t want beer."

"Of course you do," Emma turned to the waitress. "Please?"

The waitress was hesitant but ultimately decided to look for the beer.

"So what’s new?" Millie asked.

"Same old story. My parents want to get me married. They’ve been talking with this geezer from an IT company."

"Are you going to marry an old man?" asked Millie, her eyes wide open.

"Of course not! It’s his grandson. They showed me some pictures. He’s really handsome. He’s tall and, for the looks of it, he must go to the gym. But damn, I don’t want to get married. I mean, ever. Do you know what I mean?"

"Kind of. I don’t know if ever, but as of now, I want to focus on my career. I want to keep making songs and see if I can get better gigs."

"Who wants to marry you anyway, silly?" she laughed and then started to drink the beer the waitress just left on her side of the table.

"My guitar would look great on your head, but I love it too much to waste it." She smiled at her own comment, looked down at the bottle in front of her, and finally took a sip.