...the song began. He scratched nervously at a slight itch under his jeans and craned his neck, hoping that he had time to order a drink before it all began. Maybe a shot to calm his nerves.

He looked around and scratched again, this time the back of his neck. He barely avoided putting his fingers in his mouth afterward.

Project. Project. Project confidence. The words rang in his head.

But there was so little to project. He stuttered as he gave his order to the indifferent server with the overlarge eyes that never connected with his own.

He didn't recognize anyone. Maybe the blond guy with the shaggy beard, or the chubby brunette woman at the end of the bar, but neither seemed to return his knowing glances. The guy had even turned away uncomfortably, and Jack felt stung and embarrassed.

Hadn't the point of all this been to meet new people? He moved to the area three months ago and had never felt so alone. The startup job that had promised him security and flexibility hadn't provided him with an office, something they failed to mention until he had already spent his savings getting there. He spent most days huddled over his flimsy desk either working hurriedly or catching up on his Netflix queue.

The social life of the social networks, he thought, grimly.

But it was on that network, the one he had given his new life, that he found someone trying to reach out.

A flash mob? Was this 2011?

No, but it was 2:30 in the morning and he had just opened his fifth beer. He emailed the organizer, and switched back to the fourth season of 30 Rock.

He looked around again. The blond woman at the high-top table looked familiar. He watched her for a minute, admiring the way she sipped daintily at her drink. She caught him staring and smiled back sweetly. He looked away quickly, suddenly unsure she was who he thought she was.

The first notes on the song began. He finished the last of his beer and rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. He waited, but no one got up.

The song swelled, and he felt his muscle memory sync with the music as he waited for someone, anyone to join.

Nothing.

He stayed seated. He waited. A second chorus began.

Project, Jack. Project confidence.

And suddenly, he was watching himself stand. He was walking to the center of the room. He was flailing his arms unnaturally, kicking in time, and as the bridge started he began jumping and skipping and closed his eyes to ignore the stares.

And then it was over.

Jack grabbed his jacket from the booth and turned toward the door. He glimpsed the blond girl grinning wildly as he walked passed.

Right before the door slammed shut he heard the faint sound of clapping. He smiled as he walked home, wondering what he would watch when he got there.