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couch.
    Apart from the microphones sitting on the marble coffee table, this was what I imagined a brothel looked like. The room, and the corridors we'd walked down, smelt of stale smoke and some kind of air freshener with undertones of debauchery and sex. All the red velvet and gold fittings and the walls lined with sofas big enough for an orgy, it gave off a dodgy vibe.
    This is going to get weird, I'd thought as we'd entered the room. I imagined scenes of seduction in the secluded room, like in a Regency romance. Me, the innocent victim screaming with no one to hear as I was deflowered amongst the debauchery. Well, maybe not deflowered…
    But Tamaki had picked up the phone near the door and ordered a bottle of champagne then got the controller and put some songs on. He'd not laid a hand on me, just passed me the machine so I could select songs myself. I'd scrolled through the song list trying to find something I wanted to sing, feeling a bit nervous about singing around him and trying to find a song that wouldn't sound too bad.
    I'd finally found a song but, by then, Tamaki's song had started and he belted it out. Totally off-key.
    I suppressed my grin, feeling so much better about my own singing voice.
    After that, I'd put on every cheesy song I could find ― Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Justin Beiber. We sang them all. Out of key and totally flat, it didn't matter. We had the room to ourselves and an endless supply of good champagne. The night was ours.
    We’d sung for hours and I thought I could sing no more but Tamaki handed me my microphone.
    “ Come on, duet with me.”
    The opening bars of “I had the time of my life” filled the room. I wanted to rest but how could I resist “Dirty Dancing”. As I started singing, Tamaki moved his hips, trying to dance like Patrick Swayze. Trying so hard, but not succeeding. I tried not to laugh.
    “ Stop!”
    “ I like to dirty dance.”
    I picked up a cushion off the sofa and threw it at him. He’d completely changed from being so aloof and uptight earlier in the day. I liked this side of Tamaki. He was fun and crazy and easy to be around.
    “ Hey, you missed your line.”
    I kept singing but no way was I going to dance with him.
    After the song, he high-fived me.
    “ We are awesome, right. The best karaoke combi ever. We need more champagne.”
    “ And maybe some cake. Do they have cake here?”
    “ They have cake. Do you like The Beatles?”
    “ Huh? Beetle cake?”
    “ No, do you like singing The Beatles?”
    “ I hate them. Boring.”
    Tamaki reeled back in fake shock, falling back against the cushions. “How can you say you hate The Beatles? Everyone loves The Beatles. They are the best.”
    “ Boring. Ring for champagne. I want to do more Britney.”
    “ Yes, and One Direction. I love One Direction.”
    As he phoned for more drinks, I wondered if he was gay. No straight man actually said they loved One Direction.
    I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun.
    When the waitress arrived with the champagne bucket, I noticed her checking Tamaki out then giving me a dismissive look but Tamaki just ignored her.
    He poured me another drink.
    “ This really has to be our last then. I need to sleep.”
    “ Ah, yes. Poor Hannah, I'm sorry to keep you out so late. You are still not rested from your flight.”
    “ No problem. It's been fun. Let's sing some more.”
    “ You eat the cake first. You can't eat cake and sing at the same time.”
    “ True words,” I said and picked up a fork to attack the cake.
    Tamaki sat down beside me, finally taking a break from singing. His knee touched mine but I wasn't sure if he'd planned it that or it was just accidental. I rested my head on his shoulder, almost ready to fall asleep, my body heavy with that sleepiness that made think it might be better to fall asleep here than to try to make it home.
    Tamaki put his arm around me and I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I didn't even care, maybe I even welcomed