by Daisy Allen
I can’t tear my eyes off the cellist, envious of his talent, of his connection to the music, maybe even jealous... of his commitment to the notes, his complete surrender to his passion.
And then, just as the song builds to its climax, he throws his head back, the hair falling from his eyes and he looks out into the crowd.
And my blood runs cold even as my body bursts into flame.
It’s him.
Chapter Five
SEBASTIAN
I don’t know if it’s my breath, or Jez’s next to me, that is hissing in my ears. But it’s definitely my own blood I can hear coursing through my veins. It’s amazing I can hear anything over the crowd but it’s right there, in my ears, racing too fast to use to keep time. The ceiling light show is fading and we’ve just run on stage with whatever light there is left. Once it’s completely dark, I count under my breath - one, two, three, four and pull my bow.
That first note is always the hardest.
The sound to break the tension, to build the excitement, to meet and raise the expectation.
While we take turns taking the lead during our performances, that wuss ass Jez will never play that first note. So no wonder it’s me pacing the greenroom before every show.
But here. Now. I’m glad that mofo doesn’t get to do this.
I wouldn’t give anything up for the feeling this gives me.
Knowing that it’s that sound, the whisper from my bow against the cello string, singing out to this crowd, who have paid, can you believe, it? PAID! To come here and listen to us, is from me.
Yeah, I brought you here. And I’m going to give you the show of your life. I make my promise to the crowd.
I break the monotony of the single note now I know I have the crowd’s attention, and break into the intro to U2’s “It’s a Beautiful Day”.
Every time I play this, I remember the day we picked it. It was after our first paid gig in a tiny pub in Edinburgh and after a long night drinking our pitiful pay, we stepped out onto the empty streets feeling on top of the world. We ran all the way back to our backpacker’s motel singing “It’s A Beautiful Day” at the top of our lungs and during our rehearsal the next day, we arranged it into our now trademark opening.
I hear Jez and then Brad and then Marius’ instruments join mine in turn, and for a moment, I can’t help but grin at how we, the idiot boys of our class, can make such beautiful music, and even more unbelievable, do it together.
Jazz’s cello’s notes dance around mine, our instruments whispering and yelling at one another in kind, like lovers in the most tumultuous and passionate relationship. We know each other’s parts so well, we could chop and change between us without a beat. Something Dennis made us promise to stop doing just to try to trip the other up.
But today, today I’m lost in my own performance. It’s been a while since we’ve been on stage, and I’ve missed it. I close my eyes and just let me fingers do their thing. I’ve learned long ago never to interfere too much, my body knows what and how to play better than I could ever consciously tell it to. I feel the sweat start to drip from my forehead onto the flop of fringe covering my eyes.
The second chorus comes before I know it, and the lights start to fade in, focusing on me. This is usually the first time I can get a really good look at the audience. I flip my head back, and with a puff of air, blow the hair out of my eyes. I look out into the crowd. It’s a sold-out performance. I skim the tops of head and moving bodies. Until my eye catches on someone in the front row. She’s not moving. She’s standing still amongst the sea of writhing bodies. And her eyes are closed, her hand clasped like in prayer, her lips resting on the tips of her touching index fingers. She’s mesmerizing to me. A figure of peace amongst chaos.
And then the world comes falling down.
She opens her eyes and it’s her.
The girl with the perfect moon eyes.
Cadence.
***
“What the hell happened in our intro man?” Jez pushes the door open to the restroom and confronts me.
As soon as we’d left the stage for intermission, I’d run off to the little boys room to go relieve myself. And also in part because I knew this confrontation was coming.
“What do you mean?” I know exactly what he meant. But there was no way in the world I was going to be telling him.
“You missed a whole fucking section!” He throws his arms up in the air in frustration.
“It wasn’t any big deal, mate, you took over.”
“Yeah, but give me a head’s up next time.” He calms down, but is still frowning.
“What’s with the hard time, mate? We used to switch it up all the time.” Yeah, that’s right, I tell myself, deflect, Jez loves when I do that.
“Don’t fucking make it about me, Seb.” OK, maybe not. “Something happened and it freaked you out, and I want to know what.”
“It wasn’t anything! Get off my case, sheet. I’ve covered for you a hundred times.” I say before I can stop myself.
Jez stops and grabs my arm. “Hey. I’m just trying to make sure you’re OK, you don’t have to-...you know.”
I instantly feel bad and grab his hands still wrapped around my arm and squeeze. “I’m sorry, Jez. Fuck. It’s...I just saw a woma- person, I knew.”
His face relaxes and a cheeky grin starts to spread across his mouth. Ugh. I should’ve just let him continue to worry.
“Ohhh, a ‘woma-person’? I see. And does this ‘woma-person’ have a name? Or do we just know her by her measurements?” He sounds just about as gleeful as I’ve ever heard him, opening the restroom door and letting me out.
“Oh, fuck off!” I shove him on the shoulder and take off down the hallway to my dressing room. I can hear his footsteps running behind me to catch up and I run ahead, barreling through the door and pushing it closed behind me, locking it fast. I hear him slam against the locked door and curse.
“Fuck! Bastard! Let me in!”
I ignore him and collapse on the couch, flipping the switch on the light, bathing the room in total darkness. I’m craving just a moment to myself. Myself and my thoughts. I try to zone out the banging on the door, covering my head with a cushion.
The darkness allows the questions in my head to focus.
Focus on her.
She was the reason I’d missed the beat and Jez had had to jump in and take over the lead. She was the last person I’d expected to see in the crowd, it’s almost as if I’d conjured her into being just from thinking of her all afternoon.
What was she doing there?
Well, duh. She came to see the band. Then why didn’t she recognize me from the music store? Did I look that different in person? Good different? Or bad different?
She, on the other hand, didn’t look any different. Fuck, she looked so good. There in her mismatched outfit. Short, barely there black mini dress and the woolen pink cardi. She looked sweet and so fucking sexy at the same time. I didn’t know whether I wanted to take her home to meet my parents, or drag her backstage and make myself blissfully acquainted with every single inch of her body.
God, the way she looked up at me with those perfectly round eyes of hers. At one point she looked as surprised to see me as I did her.
I’d recovered after the intro, and spent the last forty-five minutes see-sawing between staring at her and trying to not look at her at the same time. She was obviously trying to do the same as I’d either catch her looking at me and she’d look away immediately or she’d turn back to me and I’d be the one to look away.
But I couldn’t look away for long.
I’d wanted to know what my music was doing to her.
And I’d wanted her to know that tonight, I was playing for her.
CADENCE
“Wowwwwww.” Sarah lets out a long satisfied sigh, and I’m almost inclined to ask her if she wants a cigarette. “That was amazing.” She leans back against her chair as everyone around us shuffles out to get a drink or stretch their le
gs during the intermission.
I don’t say anything.
I can’t.
Because ‘amazing’ and ‘wow’ just don’t cut it.
Calling it ‘classical mashed with rock’ is just about the biggest musical injustice I’ve heard in a long time. They’d taken iconic modern rock and pop songs, and classical pieces hundreds of years old and completely made them their own. After the epic opening, they’d pulled back on the pace and played a somber and haunting version of the Gladiator Movie theme interspersed with the cello part of Autumn from Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons”. The interweaving of the two pieces was seamless as if they’d been made to be played as one.
And then one after another, the songs had come, surprising in their range and variety. But no bigger surprise than the sheer talent of the band.
And one member in particular.
I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off Sebastian during the whole set. From that first moment we locked eyes during “It’s A Beautiful Day”, this concert became something different than any other concert ever had been, it felt like it was a concert for me. There is no reason for it other than, I guess, having had the interaction with a member of the band just hours earlier. But something, something unexplainable made me feel like, it was for me.
“Come on, I need to go use to ladies.” I stand up and grab Sarah’s arm, who protests. “Oh hush, I’ll buy you a poster or something.”
“Oh YAY! I can kiss it good night.” She springs to her feet, gathering her things. “Did you see how freakin’ hot they all were?”
“Um, no.” I hadn’t. I’d just noticed the one.
***
“Where is the bloody thing?” We open a door and step out into the darkness.
“I don’t know, that guy just pointed out here.” Sarah says, suddenly clinging to my arm a little too tightly.
“Well, it looks like a death alley.” There’s a sliver of light about fifty feet away and I consider running to it instead of just walking.
“I’ll protect you with my rolled up poster.” Sarah promises to defend me, even as she hides behind me.
“Yeah, thanks. Ok, look, if it’s not around the corner, we’ll just go back.” I say, wondering where my bravado is coming from.
We suddenly hear footsteps behind us and we start walking faster.
“Hey!” A voice calls out to us.
“Fuck! Should we run?” Sarah whispers to me.
“Hey, are you girls OK?” Another voice speaks up.
And I freeze. And turn back towards it.
“Hi, Cadence.”
Chapter Six
SEBASTIAN
Her friend replies before she does.
“Wow. You guys are with...you’re the band.”
Jez grins that grin of his I’ve seen him lure thousands of women with, and reaches out his hand, “And you are?”
But she seems to know just the kind of smile Jez has given her, “I am...married,” she replies, matching his grin, but just for a moment, before she turns to Cadence. “Wait. He called you by your name. Do you two know each other? You told me you’d never heard of them before.”
I watch her, dying to know the answer myself.
Cadence looks up at me, her eyes locking with mine. I blame the sudden racing of my heart on the short jog Jez and I had just taken catching up to the girls. I cock an eyebrow, waiting for her answer, but she seems tongue tied.
“Um, no. We, er, we just met briefly today.” I speak up, just to break the silence.
“Today?” Her friend frowns a little, as if turning something over in her brain. “When did you meet anyone today? You were at work all day, until lunch time when you went to...” Suddenly, everyone turns to me. “You’re the bloody rosin thief!”
Cadence’s mouth drops open and her eyes grow wide, striking. She grabs her friend’s arm and shushes her. “Shut up, Sarah!”
Sarah just shrugs her off and turns back to me, her face excited. I wonder what I’m in for. “You are, aren’t you? The one who took the last rosin she needed for class. She’s been going on about that rosin all day. She didn’t mention how good-looking you are, though...or that you’re a freakin’ celebrity!”
I cover my face with my hand, unable to hide the smile at the news that I’ve been on her mind as much as she’s been on mine.
“Yeah. You really pissed her off.” Her friend adds.
Oh. OK, maybe not for the same reason though.
Cadence groans and the sound is seductive. I’m finding it hard not to try to commit every look, every sound of hers to memory.
“I promised you I’d make it up to you,” I say to Cadence, feeling like it’s a promise for so much more than pilfered rosin.
“That’s only if I give you the chance,” she finally speaks up. The challenge sends a chill through me. It’s been a while since a woman spoke to me this way. Most of the time they’re falling over themselves to tell me how much they love me.
Jez guffaws next to me and I guess he’s figured out who was the reason for my slip-up during our intro. Which means he’s enjoying her challenge to me a little too much.
“And why wouldn’t you?” I ask her, and hold my breath for the answer.
She looks at me, and I can see something in the back of her eyes, playful but dangerous. Who is this woman?
“Well, what chance does a thief have to make it up to me when I still owe him a spanking?” She shrugs a little to make her point and stares me down.
“Whooooa.” Sarah and Jez exclaim simultaneously, and Jez hops up and down a little out of pure excitement. I want to kick him in the shin, but I’ll save it for later when I’m not being scrutinized by this strange creature.
“Be honest, Mary, you kinda want to give me that spanking now, don’t you?” I grin at the way she cringes on hearing my nickname for her, but I can tell she won’t give into the urge to ask me about it.
“Only to teach you the lesson in politeness that you’ve obviously need.” She counters.
“Ooooh!” Our two spectators gasp.
“I’m plenty polite. In fact, I remember I thanked you with a kiss.” I say, pressing my finger to my temple as if in thought.
“What?” Jez yells out.
“Oh relax, it was just a kiss on the cheek,” Sarah tells him. And I flush at the knowledge that she shared that news with her friend as well.
“I’m not surprised that you think that an unrequited and unwanted kiss is polite.” Cadence comments.
“Was it?” I ask, taking a step closer to her and lowering my voice, the mood suddenly changing.
“Was it what?” She tries to back away but I follow her.
“Unwanted?” I whisper by her ear. The return of that orange blossom scent is making me dizzy.
The pause is felt by everyone and is only broken when the bell signaling the end of intermission rings.
“Fuck!” Jez grabs my hand and pulls me back to the door, “We’re gonna be fucking late!”
I wave him off and he shakes his head and run off, leaving me behind.
I need my answer.
“Cadence? Was it unwanted?” I press her for an answer.
I reach out for her, the uncertainty making me feel weak. I want to touch her, to know that this woman and what I’m feeling are something real.
The back of my hand skims her cheek. It’s warm. She says nothing.
“Cadence. We better go.” Sarah speaks up, forgotten by both of us.
The bell dings again and I can’t ignore it.
I tear myself away and run down the alley, and just as I wrench the door open to run inside, I think I hear a whisper.
A whisper that tells me, “No, no, it wasn’t.”
CADENCE
“What. The Fuck. Just Happened?” Sarah asks me when we’re back in our seats waiting for the second set to start.
“I don’t...I don’t know.”
“What happened between you two at the store?” She presses on.
“Nothin
g.”
“Come on, the way you two were talking and touching...it can’t have been nothing.”
“I’m telling you, it was nothing. We were there for about two minutes, and then he stole the rosin, kissed my cheek and ran off.”
“You seemed like...like...old lovers or something.”
“Oh, shush.” I brush away her words.
“Honey...” She touches my arm and I turn to face her. “I’m serious. He has it bad for you. And, you’ve definitely got...something for him.” She chooses her words carefully.
“Yeah. In the eight years you’ve known me...have I ever given you any reason to think of me as a person who would have it bad for someone?”
“No. Until just then.” She says pointedly.
The lights go down and I’m glad. I can’t keep the act up for long, and I can’t process my thoughts wilt her haranguing me for answers I don’t have, and don’t want to share with anyone.
The second act starts like the first one, in complete darkness. It gives the audience no choice but to focus on the music. The music that deserves our complete and undivided attention.
The clearest note rings out, that one single note, enveloping my consciousness, building and building the anticipation, until I realize I haven’t taken a breath in so long. The mind races, trying to generate a melody from the one note, craving for a resolution to the question – what song are they going to play next?
And then, the stage explodes into light, and the opening strains to Ram Jam’s “Black Betty” blasts from the speakers. Four spotlights focus on the band, all four on their feet, facing each other in the middle of the stage, completely engrossed in their own instruments, but creating a sound that carries as one. Sarah and I can’t help but jump to our feet along with the 10,000 people around us, the crowd singing along to the music.