Strings of the Muse

by Kristi Ayers

  “My God, Holland, I had no idea you could sing!” He was laughing and crushing me to him. “You told me you couldn’t.” He stepped back, a big smile highlighting his features.

  “I— Turns out I guess I can.” I shrugged and smiled.

  Douglas leaned over to us. “Max, you joining? Looks like we’re doing a show.” He nodded toward the awaiting crowd that clustered around us.

  Max looked at me, his eyes dancing with genuine mirth. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

  Douglas took the mic and announced, “This next one is for Jessy!”

  Low and behold, when I looked over at her, she was smiling.

  Chapter 20

  Max

  Holland played the last note to the final song we chose to do for our street audience and the crowd cheered, a few begging for more. Especially the guy who found an empty coffee canister and put in a handful of dollars from his pocket, a fellow musician no doubt. And a little boy who played air guitar like a rock and roll fiend. I took a few dollars from the canister and handed it to him. “Great gig, buddy.”

  He beamed. “Thanks!” Then he turned and bounced to his mom. “I’m a rock star!”

  I waved to the crowd and said into the mic, “Thank you! If you want to see us again, we’re playing at The Mont on New Year’s Eve at ten pm!”

  I stepped closer to Holland, an idea forming in my head, a wicked grin to match. Her eyes got wide. “Whoa. I know that look. No way. This,” she made a circular motion with her finger, “was a one-time thing.” She turned and squatted down to put her violin in its case. I leaned against the brick wall of the shop, waiting for her to stand back up. She finally did and sighed when she saw my unwavering gaze. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Not when you can sing. Please, Holland, join us for the New Year’s gig. Just a song or two?”

  “On the violin, right?”

  “In addition to the violin. You’ve got to sing. Your voice is like an angel’s.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, then blinked as a flash of melancholy took her somewhere else for a moment. Her brows knitted, a look of strength crossing her face. “Okay.” She inhaled a fortifying breath. “For my sister.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be right there singing in the mic with you.”

  She looked up at me with a look I’d never seen on her, a mix of bittersweet gratitude. She took my hand and squeezed.

  I squeezed back.

  Later, as we broke away from the rest of the group, I just had to know something. The song she sang earlier spoke about being sorry, wanting to go back to the beginning, back to how they were when it all started. She chose that song for a reason and called me there for a purpose. Hell, she got my entire band organized for it right under my nose.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” she asked, but she knew where I was going with this.

  “Why that song? Why did you want to sing it to me?”

  She slowed to a stop and faced me. “Because you saved me. And you saw me.”

  My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

  “You found me frozen in fear under that tree and led me safely to my dorm.”

  She remembered? “I assumed you forgot all about that. I mean, you didn’t seem to recognize me when we officially met at Adam’s house.”

  She blushed. “That’s true. I usually blank out during one of my flashbacks. But Douglas told me everything about it.”

  “Did he now?” I put my hands in my pockets, knowing all the directions this was leading.

  “He did. He said you, um, couldn’t stop thinking about me, in so many words.” She raised her finger in the air, remembering. “Oh yes, he said you were ‘stupid over me.’” She flashed a very cheesy grin up at me.

  I tried to hold back the reaction that wanted so badly to sprout on my face, but dammit, it was out of sheer embarrassment that I didn’t want to exhibit this uncomfortable weakness, the traitorous flushing of my face. “Damn him,” I muttered, and finally smiled.

  “You’re cute when you’re all flustered, Max.”

  “Ha-ha. Let’s change the subject.”

  She giggled, entirely too amused at my discomfort.

  It was agreed that Holland would sing the same song she sang for me, and since it sounded perfect the first time, I didn’t want to put her through rehearsal. I knew it sounded best when she was wholly in tune with her soul and fully raw to her emotions. She was one of those singers; one who performed best when she embraced the significance of the moment. She did, however, join us on a couple of evenings to practice with her violin, which the rest of the guys loved.

  By New Year’s Eve, we were ready to entertain the biggest club to date. Douglas told me he invited his new “lady friend.” He wore happiness like a cape, suddenly stepping out with confidence and spreading his wings, flying high on all things Jessy. Especially when he divulged to me that she liked gaming just as much as he did.

  “Hey, Max. Should I wear a tie with this shirt or skip it?” Douglas asked. The tie he spoke of was a bow tie, a shiny silver bow tie. His shirt was a black button-up and unlike anything he’d ever worn for holidays.

  “This for Jessy?” I teased.

  He scoffed. “No. This is just my party attire. I’m ringing in the New Year in style.”

  I nodded and acted like I was contemplating his choice. “Yes, I think it will wow your lady friend’s skirt off.”

  “Whoa! I don’t need to be thinking about that just yet. Was hoping for our first kiss at midnight, not a wham-bam-kapow.” He did a little suggestive dance that I hoped to never witness again.

  “Dude.” I chuckled as I finished getting myself ready.

  The Mont was packed. People could barely maneuver from the dance floor to the bar. We made quick work to set up our stage while techno music pulsed in sync to green, blue, and purple lights.

  We weren’t the first band to go on. They had a whole lineup that started when they opened and going long into the night. I was pumped to spend time hanging with my friends doing what we did best together, and ringing in the New Year.

  I looked over at Holland, who was standing to the side of the stage, a stunning sight to behold in her slinky, sparkling black dress. Earlier, when I saw it was backless, my mouth went dry and I couldn’t form words. Of course, Douglas caught that and teased me with devilish comments that thankfully no one heard.

  When Holland looked over at me, I saw the sheer utter terror in her eyes. “Oh no,” I said under my breath. Quickly, I made my way to her. “Hey, are you okay?” I took her hands in mine.

  She glanced out hesitantly and zoned in on the massive crowd. “I…I’m not sure.”

  I took my hand and gently pulled her face to look at me. When her eyes connected with mine, the words on my tongue came to a sudden stop. She was so beautiful, and it wasn’t solely from what I saw on the outside, but also from what I saw deep in her eyes. She wanted so badly to do this, not for me or the band, but for her sister. And herself. “Holland, don’t think of the before, think of the after. All the times you played for competitions and received top scores, think of that feeling. There was once a time when you walked into your first competition with judges there with critical attitudes, and you performed. You did it. The only difference now is that this place is full of happy people who are here to let loose and have fun. Their focus is on the kiss with their date at midnight and the year ahead of them.” I let my hand release her cheek then.

  She blinked and nodded with a fortified look of determination. “You’re right, Max.” Then her eyes fell on my mouth and lingered. “You’re right,” she whispered. Both her hands cupped my face and she pressed her lips against mine.

  Surprised, I froze at first, unsure this was really happening. I’d dreamt of this kiss countless times, completely free of Adam’s hold, and then like in my dreams, I kissed back, my hands entwining in her hair. It went from zero to one hundred, candy to carnal. My tongue skirted the opening of
her lips, asking permission. She met my tongue, hers warm and unbelievably erotic. Everything else became irrelevant. Gig? What gig?

  When we parted, our eyes locked. She smiled bashfully and said, “I couldn’t wait for midnight.”

  I chuckled softly. “I’m glad you decided midnight was too far away.” I gave her a quick peck, a promise for more later, then said, “We need to get ready.”

  When we turned, the entire band started clapping and whistling. Douglas yelled, “It’s about time! Cupid was running out of arrows, the poor sap!” The crowd around the stage started cheering and raising glasses into the air, finally figuring out our story. Embarrassed, Holland and I grinned with ducked chins.

  Holland grabbed her violin and I got my guitar. We positioned ourselves in our designated spots, ready to start. The DJ faded the current song out then announced us with unbridled enthusiasm. The crowd erupted in drunken excitement.

  Holland led us into our first song with her violin. She took my breath away as she swayed her body, the delicate skin on her back nearly making me forget my lyrics. The keyboardist joined in and played for sixteen beats before the rest of us joined.

  The audience went wild with recognition with each of our song choices. I closely watched Holland at first, but once she seemed to be having fun, I worked the crowd like I normally did.

  I didn’t have much time really to reflect, but during portions of songs when it was just instrumental, I took a moment to savor the feeling that I was happy. Truly happy. All my life, I felt like I was waiting for something. Until this very moment. Here and now. I had everything I could ever desire.

  Fifteen minutes into our set, it was Holland’s time to sing. Rather than introducing her and making her feel singled out, I just let her walk up to the microphone. She was supposed to wiggle her fingers to let us know to start playing, but her fingers remained frozen, as did her face. Oh no. I knew that look.

  After glancing at Douglas, I stepped up next to Holland and gave the thumbs-up sign behind my back.

  We were doing this together.

  The keyboard led us into the song. Our voices came through the speakers together in perfect harmony. The passion in her voice returned from the other day. I tried to remain engaged with the audience, but my eyes always found their way back to Holland. She seemed to be doing the same thing, hazel eyes meeting mine and locking. This caused the romantics in the crowd to go wild, cheering and some putting their hands in the shape of hearts while singing along with us. A handful videoed, likely uploading to YouTube later.

  I barely registered the resounding applause afterward, too focused on hugging Holland. “You were amazing,” I said into her ear as I squeezed her to me. Her smile and moist eyes told me how happy she was, but we had to finish our set, so it was back to work.

  Three songs later, we finished to the audience cheering loudly. We quickly cleared out the stage for the next band to set up. They were the stars of the night, hence why they were privileged to ring in the New Year. That was fine with me because I wanted to step into the next year with just one person beside me.

  Gear locked up in the van Adam let us continue to use, the guys then all went different directions, meeting up with dates. Douglas and Jessy strolled away toward the boardwalk.

  “They’re pretty cute together,” Holland commented, watching them disappear into the mass of people waiting for midnight.

  “I agree.” I gazed down at her, happy to just watch her watching the tipsy, laughing people walk by. After a couple of minutes, I took her hand into mine and led her to the beach, ready to turn around if she became overwhelmed with sadness.

  “This okay?” I asked.

  She looked out at the water. “Actually, yes. This is great. I think feeling her presence while singing has helped me realize that she’s not out there in the water. She’s in all the places I am, following my journey through life. So, yeah, this is perfect.”

  I guided her to a place on the sand to sit. We looked out over the ocean, dark and beautiful, a few boats anchored with twinkling lights. “You blew me away earlier. For what it’s worth, I think you found your calling.”

  She laughed. “A singer? You saw how I so elegantly froze when it came time. No way, no how.”

  “I was exactly like you at first, believe it or not. My intention was to only play the guitar. But things changed. Life throws a curve ball and asks you to do wild things and you end up finding yourself doing them.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Is this your way of asking me something?”

  I tossed a sly grin her way. “Like join our band? Yes. Yes, I am.”

  She mused inwardly at this proposition, her teeth sliding across her bottom lip and making me forget everything except how her mouth felt on mine earlier.

  “Okay.”

  I did a double take. “Wait, really? You will?” I fully expected her to say no.

  “Only if we can sing together. That was… That really got me here.” She put her hand on her heart.

  I exhaled, “Same,” then tenderly put my hand against her cheek, my mouth coming down to meet hers just as we heard five, four, three, two, one, HAPPY NEW YEAR!

  ~*~

  It wasn’t until four months later that I finally saw something about Adam. Remarkably, he’d joined a promising indie band in California and their first album was coming out. They even had a tour in the works, sixteen cities across the US. The pictures I came across had Adam appearing much healthier, happier, and from the looks of it, a girlfriend by his side. Kissing the same girl in multiple pictures wearing different clothing outfits gave me a clue that they were serious. Relief that he was truly going to be okay flooded my senses. California and everything it embodied looked good on him. I would need to show Douglas this when he got back from his date with Jessy.

  “Is that Adam?” Holland’s arm circled from behind me as she bent over my shoulder as I sat in the chair at my desk.

  I’d been attempting to write a paper while she lounged on my bed reading, but surfing the web was more interesting than the paper. “Yeah. The band he’s in will be touring, it says.”

  She enlarged the picture on my phone. “He looks so much better. Happier. We’ll have to catch his concert.” She kissed my neck, the phone and my paper immediately forgotten.

  I maneuvered out of the chair so quickly that it caused her to gasp as I gathered her in my arms, hugging, kissing, walking her backward to my bed. My hands went under the back of her shirt, trailing up the soft skin on her back, pressing her closer, until we couldn’t stand the fabric between us any longer. Clothes flew in all directions and we fell onto my bed.

  Not only were we compatible singing together, we were even better with the things we did under the sheets, completely in tune with each other and how to access the most amazing heights.

  Her touch was the most delicious fire on my skin. Her scent, her taste, becoming one with her, lifted me to places transcendental. The sounds she made fueled the desire to have her follow me to that blissful, exquisite high. Together.

  Afterward, as we lay in each other’s arms, I loved the peaceful unity we shared. The gentle caresses and soft murmurs. The extraordinary feeling of experiencing this intimate life with someone so special, you’re thankful to the angels above that your paths crossed on that fateful overcast day. A day that set into motion a chain of events, some good, some terrible, to finally come out the other side a believer in all things serendipitous.

  Chapter 21

  Adam

  What can be said about a person who completely refuses to own his emotions, who shoves them down into the darkest depths, covers them with a cloak, and negates the need to endure and overcome them?

  Someone might know, but it wasn’t me. I failed to care. At least, at first.

  I hid from my truest emotions, denying their plausibility as if they were indeed nonexistent. This wasn’t to say I hid from my desires; that was entirely different. I did what I wanted when I wanted. But to admit my veritable
feelings? Why would I want to own my brokenness? It was a weakness, and I wasn’t weak. Losing my father pushed me into the worst version of myself, but ironically, it was also transforming. His death taught me when your world fell apart, you started a riot.

  You riot when you’re hurting, when you’re angry, when you might feel a sliver of happiness…when you may have fallen in love.

  And, when you undoubtedly must put a complete and utter halt to your life as you knew it. Pick yourself up and go in a different direction. Because that was the only way you were going to survive.

  I went to California with my sponsor in order to clean up the mess that haunted my mind and wrecked my life. I’d been in a war with myself for far too long, bound by invisible threads holding me prisoner in my own existence. First by the excess weight I carried the first part of high school, then later from demons that haunted the death of a loved one.

  Girls don’t see you. The cool guys don’t care you exist. You’re just a nobody.

  My father was in the right place at the wrong time. He was happily married to my mom, who then had to become a single mother, and what better way than to make her feel welcomed into that role than forcing her to become an irrelevant superwoman, which was entirely my fault.

  That was what a nobody son did; made his mom feel like all her hard work keeping the two of us stable was something to be less than proud of; taking, destroying, but never giving back. Never attempting to see things from her side. Never appreciating that moving two hours away to start a new life was a good thing.

  She was broken too, just like me, but she never showed any evidence of being less than whole. Always sacrificing, making sure we had what needed, just enough to feel normal. And I failed to give her enough back.

  I didn’t give anyone enough. I made sure everything was too good to be true because that was what a nobody deserved. I was never good enough, therefore in my mind, I was destined to all things unreachable.