by Twyla Turner
“You’re gross!” Day looked at him like he was crazy.
“No, it’s the caveman in me.” Chase smirked and quirked up an eyebrow. “One day, I’m gonna get you pregnant.” Chase leaned down to kiss her softly.
“Slow your roll there, Tonto.” Day pressed her palms against his chest, leaning away. “We’ve got time. You’re only twenty-three and I’m twenty-two. I think we’ve got a lot more growing up to do first.” Day reasoned.
Chase could read between the lines. And she was saying that he needed to grow up and get his shit together first. He bit down a retort as he watched her walk back to the bathroom to get cleaned up. The night was going well and he didn’t want anything to get in the way of that.
They finally sat down to eat and Daylen moaned in delight at how good the beef stew was. She couldn’t believe that he’d made it. Or that her mom would even give him the recipe.
“Are you sure my mom didn’t come over to cook this while I was at school?” Day asked suspiciously.
“No! I swear. Scout’s honor.” Chase smiled, holding up two fingers in the scout’s symbol.
“You weren’t even a boy scout.” Day gave him a look.
“Okay fine, but I still made it myself. I just followed your mom’s directions. So I’m gonna take your disbelief as a compliment.” Chase chuckled as he got up from the table and walked over to the fridge.
“Definitely! This is delicious, just like her stew. Ya done good.” Day smiled though it faded quickly as she watched Chase grab a beer from the fridge.
When he turned back towards her, she plastered on a fake smile. They continued to eat in relative silence. Her frustration with him not being able to go a night without drinking stilted the flow of conversation. Once he got up for his third beer, Day couldn’t keep silent any longer.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” She asked as he popped the cap.
“Don’t start, Day,” he grumbled as he avoided eye contact.
“One night. Just one night, can you go without drinking? I mean, even one or two drinks a night isn’t that big of a deal. But you don’t do that. You drink until you can’t see straight! Don’t you think that’s a problem, Chase?” Day exclaimed, frustrated that the wonderful night had gone downhill fast.
“I don’t have time for this shit! Get off my back!” Chase snapped.
He stormed out of the kitchen and back towards his mancave. Where he always went when things got heated between them, which was happening more and more frequently.
Daylen collapsed back in her chair. The tears she’d been holding back since she’d woken up and found his side of the bed empty finally spilled over. She folded her arms on the table and laid her head down as sobs wracked her body. She was at a loss.
Chapter 23
“Again!” Rhys shouted at Daylen. She flinched and started from the top.
It was mid-March and the schools senior symphony orchestra was deep into their practices for the musical in late April. Rhys had made his way through the sections. Each section of instruments received personal instructions from the well-known conductor. He had also done one-on-ones with each student. Daylen was one of the last one-on-ones that he’d scheduled.
Day had begun to sweat through her hot pink, vintage Care Bear t-shirt she had decided to wear, during the intense session. She wiped the sweat from under her bangs. She was glad that she’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail. But her bangs and longer tendrils on each side that laid against her temples and cheeks, were now stuck to her face with perspiration. She had no idea what Rhys wanted from her, but every time she started to play, he’d make her stop and then start over. Her fingertips ached on her left hand and her right arm that the held the bow was trembling.
Things hadn’t gotten better with Chase. In fact, they’d seemed to have gotten progressively worse. Either he didn’t come home till late or the next day. Or he’d shut himself in his mancave. They couldn’t talk without getting into an argument. It was killing Day that she couldn’t reach him, no matter what she did.
If she stayed silent, it felt as if she was enabling him. If she yelled, he acted like she was pressuring him to be perfect. If she tried to have a calm discussion, he argued that she was babying him or psycho-analyzing him. She was at her wits end, and it was affecting her performance at school. And it was obvious that Rhys knew that.
“Stop! Do it again!” Rhys thundered. “Play the piece right or quit wasting my bloody time!” He clapped his hands together in her face.
All the anger and frustration that was bottled up inside of Day bubbled up like hot lava in her throat.
“What the fuck do you want from me?!” She finally screamed.
Day’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Her dark chocolate eyes blazed. And her skin was flushed pink with fury.
“That,” Rhys said with satisfaction.
“What?” Day scowled, not comprehending what he was talking about.
“Passion.” He cocked his head to the side, challenging her. “Fury. Desperation.”
“This is bullshit.” Day hissed as she went to stand. She was done with the session, whether he was or not.
“Daylen, stop.” Rhys touched her arm and heat radiated up her skin. “Do you know why I waited to coach you last? Do you know why I’m being so hard on you?” He asked.
“Enlighten me.” Day replied sarcastically. Her shyness gone in the face of his continual taunting.
“You are technically flawless. I’d heard from other faculty members, how well you play. But they all agree on one point, and so do I. You lack passion. You lack fire.” He said with the type of passion she was apparently needing.
Day looked down at the floor, her timid side reappearing. Rhys squatted down in front of her and used an index finger to lift her chin. Tears clung to her bottom lids and his next words made them spill onto her round cheeks.
“You have the potential to be one of the best cellists in the world. But you hold in all your emotions when playing is the one time you should let it all out.” Rhys said gently as if she’d break. “Now…what’s going on in your life that has you wound up like a top?”
Embarrassed, Day wiped at her tear-streaked face. At his nod of encouragement and sympathetic dark blue eyes, Day spoke.
“It’s my boyfriend.” She took in a shuddering breath and continued. “He lost his mom last year and it’s affecting him badly. He drinks all the time, he’s angry, and he won’t talk to me.”
“I’m sorry that you’re going through this rough time, Daylen. And I believe that you deserve better. But don’t you see…you can use that hurt to your advantage?” Rhys reached for her hands and clutched them tightly. “Les Miz is tragic and heartbreaking. Take your anger, frustration, and sorrow and put it into every note that you play. Let all that emotion radiate out into your fingertips till you bleed onto that damned cello. And I bet, if you leave it all here…” he touched the cello lightly. “…you’ll feel like you’ve unloaded a whole heap of weight off your shoulders.”
Day nodded her assent. “Okay,” she spoke softly.
Rhys stood up and looked down at her. “Again.”
Daylen positioned her fingers on the chords and placed the bow lightly on the strings below. She closed her eyes and felt all her anger and frustration still sitting on her chest, making it hard to breathe. This time, though, instead of trying to push it down. She let it spill over. She let it radiate throughout her whole body, and she began to play.
At the right moments, the fine horsehair of the bow attacked the strings or caressed them like a lover. Like she once did when she would lie in bed with Chase. She was so lost in the refuse that poured out of her that she didn’t see Rhys pacing around her. Nor did she hear him speak.
“Yes!” Rhys clenched his fists as he listened to her play. “Dig deep, Daylen. Perfect!”
He continued to coax and cheer her on as she played though she didn’t hear much of it. Day came to the end of the piece and practically collapsed after sh
e pulled the bow along the last note. She felt drained.
“That was bloody brilliant, Daylen!” Rhys exclaimed and grabbed her shoulders, giving her a little shake.
“Thanks. I feel like I’ve been through battle.” Day sighed. Worn but happy.
“You did go through battle. And it was exquisite.” Rhys said softly.
Day’s coffee brown eyes met his deep cobalt blue ones. They stared at each other for a few awkward beats too long. Rhys straightened back up and cleared his throat.
“Pain isn’t always ugly. Messy, maybe. But it can be beautiful. It lets you know that you’re still alive. And it has its uses. Like making extraordinary music. Why do you think Beethoven is still discussed today? You have to be a little mad, when you’re an artist. Madness is a prerequisite for the job, I think.” Rhys grinned and winked at her.
Daylen stared up at him, as if in a trance. He was older and wiser. He was devilishly handsome and crazy passionate about music. She felt like she could listen to him talk about music for hours and the accent didn’t hurt. But the awkward silence, shook Day from her reverie.
“That was really insightful. I never really thought of it that way.” Day remarked.
“It’s okay. I’ve been doing this a bit longer than you.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’m sorry that I was a bit of a wanker to you today. I just knew that you had it in you to be great. And you were.” Rhys said earnestly.
“Thank you. As pissed off as I was, I’m glad you did it now.” Day smiled shyly.
“Good.” Rhys nodded and slid his hands into his pockets. The move wasn’t unsure like when Chase did it. With Rhys, it was a relaxed and self-assured pose. Very adult. And very sexy. “I think you’ve earned a break for the day. I think we’re all done here.”
Day mentally shook herself and began to pack up her cello and bow. While Rhys busied himself with shuffling sheet music.
“Alright. Well…I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Day said as she gripped the shoulder strap to her cello case.
“Until then,” Rhys said deeply before she slipped through the door.
Daylen quickly walked outside into the chilly spring air. She raised her face up, to let the cold wind smack some sense into her. You can’t have a crush on your conductor, ya big dope! Besides, he’s older and way more sophisticated than you could ever be. Oh, and you have a BOYFRIEND! She rolled her eyes at herself and began to walk towards home.
She didn’t see the blue eyes watching her from the office window.
~~~
The next couple of weeks, Day continued to do well under the direction of Rhys. Most days when they were finished with ensemble or section practices, she was exhausted. When she put all of her emotions in whatever piece from the musical they were practicing, she was emotionally, mentally, and physically drained by the end. There were days that she just couldn’t put it all out there, so she held back, but Rhys instantly noticed and took her to task for it. Day was ready to strangle him with her horse hairs.
The symphony was just wrapping up another grueling practice, only a few weeks before the musical’s opening and finals. Day and Amy were heading off the stage when Rhys called out to her.
“Daylen! I need you to stay after for a few minutes,” he said.
“I’ll meet up with you at the student center.” Day said to Amy.
The rest of the orchestra students gave her curious looks, as they made their way out of the conservatory. After everyone had gone, Rhys pointed to a chair and she sat as he straddled the one in front of hers. A packet if papers in his hands.
“I know it's late notice, but I wanted to talk to you about your plans after college.” Rhys began. He continued at Day’s blank stare. “What are they?”
“Uh…I was going to audition for a cellist spot in the Chicago Symphony.” Day answered.
“You’re not ready,” Rhys said bluntly.
“Oh…”
“Don’t get all down on yourself. I didn’t say, you’re not good enough. I said you’re not ready.” Rhys explained.
“Okay, then what?” Daylen asked in frustration.
“More schooling. Maybe a master’s program? But maybe not here.” Rhys hinted.
“What do you mean?” She asked, truly perplexed.
“I’m a guest conductor here, but my normal residency is at the Royal College of Music in London. I think you’d do well in the master’s program there. And honestly, I feel that I need more time mentoring you. I’m arrogant enough to say that I don’t trust your growth in the hands of someone else.” Rhys quirked up a dark eyebrow.
“I don’t know, Rhys.” Day responded softly though her heart was pounding. Could she really just up and leave to go to another country on the other side of the world? What about Chase? “Shouldn’t I have applied already? What about an audition? I mean, I don’t even have a passport.”
“I’m an instructor there. Don’t you think I could grease a few wheels to get you in? As far as I’m concerned, you’ve already auditioned with me. And we can get you a passport in plenty of time. It’s up to you, but you would have to let me know soon.” Rhys suggested as he handed her the papers he’d been holding. “Here’s the application. You can fill it out and turn it into me. Just to see if you get accepted, and then you can decide from there.”
“A-Alright. I’ll think about it.” Day said, taking the application and feeling overwhelmed.
Rhys stared at her for a few uncomfortable beats and then pushed off from his chair.
“I hope you do,” he said deeply.
Day swallowed, grabbed her cello, and hightailed it out of the conservatory.
~~~
“So what did Conductor Melt-in-my-Mouth Reese’s Pieces say?” Amy asked curiously as Day sat down with her food.
Daylen had caught up with her friend in the student center to have a late lunch, before their next class. Of course, Amy was primed and ready for the Spanish Inquisition.
“First of all, I think that was M&M’s line, not Reese’s.” Day gave her friend a look.
“Whatever. You know what I mean. So what did he want?” Amy pressed.
“He asked what my plans were after graduation.” Daylen hedged.
“And?” Amy leaned forward in her chair.
“And I told him that I wanted to audition for the Chicago Symphony.”
“Go on.” Amy leaned in closer.
“And he said I wasn’t ready.” Daylen shrugged.
“That’s it? That’s all he said?” Amy gave her a knowing look.
“Well, then he said that he thought I’d benefit from getting my masters. At the Royal College of Music…in London…mentored by him.” Day eased out slowly.
Amy’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“You’re shittin’ me?!” She shouted out.
Everyone turned and looked at them curiously. Daylen ducked her head in embarrassment.
“Do you have to be so loud? Not everyone needs to know my business.” Day hissed under her breath.
“Sorry.” Amy cringed. “It’s just that this is a huge opportunity for you. Are you gonna do it? I would in a heartbeat if he asked me.” Amy nearly bounced in her seat.
“Really? Even though that would take you thousands of miles away from Jake?” Day asked doubtfully.
“I mean, it wouldn’t be easy. But it’s the chance of a lifetime. I don’t know if Jake and I will spend the rest of our lives together. But I know that I want to play flute for the rest of my life, or until I’m too old to play. Why give up a sure thing…your dream, for a maybe?” Amy said.
“I think that’s the deepest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” Day said in amazement.
“I have my moments.” Amy shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “But you and Chase are having problems right now. He needs to get his shit together and stop using you as a crutch. And you need to find your own life. One that doesn’t revolve around trying to make him happy, which isn’t working, by the way.” Amy reached across the table to clutch Day’s
hand when tears came to her eyes. “You can’t heal him, sweetie. He has to want to do that on his own.”
“But this is different.” Day sniffled. “He’s not just my boyfriend. He’s my best friend. No offense.” Day wiped her eyes.
“None taken. I know you have a bond that goes way back. But even best friends go off to live their own lives. And like most true best friends, they’ll more than likely be there when you get back. Just maybe not in a relationship.” Amy advised.
Day sighed heavily. “I just don’t know. But I told Rhys that I’d think about it. And he gave me the application to fill out.”
“You really should. I just want to see you happy. And you haven’t been for a year. Hell, even before that when you were dating Drew. Stop trying to make these guys happy. Focus on you and make yourself happy. You have that right.” Amy added passionately. “Just fill it out and see if you get accepted. Then make your decision afterwards.”
Daylen nodded, deep in thought. She was already making a list of pros and cons in her head. The longer the pros’ list got, the heavier her heart felt. Could she really leave Chase? That’s the million dollar question, she thought as she pulled out the application and a pen.
Chapter 24
It was opening night of the college’s production of Les Miz, and Chase could tell that Day was a nervous wreck as she ran around getting ready. He thought she looked gorgeous anyway. She wore a sleeveless, black dress that swept at her heeled feet. Its plunging neckline displayed her lush, creamy breasts. Her jet black hair was pulled back into a messy chignon at the back of her neck. Her bangs fell past her arched brows, drawing attention to her lined, dark eyes. The longer tendrils on either side framed her face and rosy cheeks.
“You look gorgeous, as always,” Chase said deeply.
He leaned against the doorway to the bathroom and they looked at each other through their reflections in the mirror.