The Life Of Billy Batson | Shazam

Billy The Kid

(2143 words)

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The room was warm, cigarette smoke wafting through the air and making the lights in the building foggy. Billy walked near the bar, smiling at the bartender, who was busy wiping down a couple of glasses.

Said bartender was young, in her early 20's, with a tomboy aura to match her thin, wiry body and her long brown hair tied up in a bun. She had freckles that peppered her face and framed her hazel eyes, and, had she played for a different team, Billy would have asked her out.

Katie, her name was, smirked at the teen, nodding to him before grabbing something from under the bar. "Boss gotcha a new mic," she said, tossing the wireless microphone to him.

"Knock em' dead, kiddo." she said, going back to her cleaning.

Billy smiled again, nodding as he glanced at the mic in his hand before walking towards the stage.

He had had this job for a couple of months now- entertaining at a local bar and grill. The place was decked out in southern-themed decor, from tumbleweeds and barrels decorating the stage to wagon wheel tables and antique chairs.

The bar was a local spot in Fawcett City; a place that friends would go to get together, and more often than not, where just about everyone in the room knew everyone else.

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Overall, the place was homey- Billy enjoyed the time he spent here, and being paid was a bonus in his book.

At the moment, there was no one really there other than a few people sitting at the bar. He looked out at the sea of tables and found them empty, a bit of his anxiety melting away. It wouldn't stay that way once he started performing, he knew that, but the sight was still calming.

Billy was able to get himself into the 'zone' and overcome most of his stage fright, which his co-worker was still surprised he had even after all this time and often teased him about. The teen overall took it in good form, jesting back about various things, such as the woman's lack of luck with the ladies around Fawcett.

The raven took a steadying breath and attached the mic to a stand, straightening it before leaving it on the stage for a moment before going backstage. He dug around in a few unlabelled boxes until he found what he was looking for; a worn, well-loved acoustic guitar. The teen smiled at the old object and brought it out on stage, setting it against an old stool.

Just then, his communicator went off, Billy's hand instantly going to his back pocket. He took out the new device he'd gotten from Cyborg, which looked surprisingly close to a cell phone an opened it. He noticed a mass message that had been sent out a day previous- how had he not seen that? -that was talking about some type of team bonding event taking place on that day.

Billy shrugged and put the device away, not bothering with the specifics since he wouldn't be able to attend because of work anyway.

"Hey Bats-" his co-worker Katie spoke up, rubbing down glasses nonchalantly. "Forgot to tell you, we got a big party tonight-- bought out the whole place for the night. Some kind of office party or something," she told him, rolling her eyes as she spoke.

"You know how those can get..." she muttered, shaking his head. "Just be prepared for requests," she muttered, putting the glass away.

Billy sighed, picking up the guitar an sitting on the stool. He strummed it, cringing at the fact that it was horribly out of tune. "I don't know why people think I take requests. I only know 8 or 9 songs in general, and only like, 3 of those are country," he muttered, tuning the instrument.