The Pianoplayer: A lesbian love story

by Rosalie Sommer

  But Adolé was sure that at some point she could see them and then address everything. And she was very curious about these answers!

  18.

  Tough days went by, days when time seemed to stand still and when the work in the studio suffered noticeably. Adolé spent hours alone in the studio during the day. Since Ella also found no means to convince Michelle to devote herself to her duties in the recording studio, Adolé had given up resignedly. She wasn't even sure anymore if Ella, who should know everything about her protégé and have him under control, even knew where exactly she was and why she refused her work so consistently.

  Roswitha, on the other hand, still took her job very seriously and had acted decisively. After all talks with Ella had failed and they would otherwise have been stuck with the not inconsiderable production costs, she unceremoniously relieved most of the musicians of their duties and released them for other projects. As a result, Adolé was able to work with an admittedly very talented musician, who was able to record the songs one after the other with different instruments and a technician alone in the studio. But this was not what she had expected at the beginning of the project - nor what it could have become in the meantime. She spent the nights more and more regularly in the hotel bar before she retired to her room, depressed and red wine blistered.

  Again and again she lay curled up in her bed, doubting and brooding. Again and again she was overwhelmed by the stabbing pain of despair and powerlessness and the bitter realization that there was simply no reasonable explanation for this behavior. And that's that! Michelle had simply taken advantage of her and the situation, and even though the expected headline in the corresponding celebrity news had not yet come, her prestigious scalp together with her dignity was already hanging in the overcrowded trophy cabinet of the French piano player, who probably still couldn't believe in her ecstatic stupor of victory how naive Adolé had been, how easy it had been to lure her into her arms and what a triumphant coup she had achieved that night.

  She felt numb. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Everything in her ached as if her body, her soul and her heart were one big wound for whose healing there was never any medicine, ointment or balm. Time did not matter. Improvement was far away. It just hurt, so much pain. She had no idea how to deal with this deep, painful injury or how and when to recover from it, if there was ever any improvement. At the moment she doubted, too present were the events of that magical night and the vile deception that followed.

  She wasn't just a woman for one night. Couldn't Michelle have found someone else to satisfy her needs, someone who was easier to have and had less to lose? She was in a rut. She kept falling back on these meaningless thoughts. There really were a lot of decent women out there, and I'm sure Ella could have found her a suitable test person, a playmate who could have met Michelle's requirements, even though Adolé had to realize that it was certainly more attractive for a woman like Michelle to fish for a difficult target like her.

  Yeah, so it made sense, of course. The hunting instinct. She was an attractive prey, after all. Adolé shook his head, got up and sat on the edge of the bed. She shook her head in disbelief, as she had been shaking her head a lot lately. Of course, some willing woman did not have the special booty potential that she, Adolé Varell, pop icon, pop queen and crowd-puller, Michelle offered. Yes, I'm sure there was no denying that. Adolé sighed.

  Her thoughts went round and round, over and over again and around this one thing, this one seductive, weak, sensual night and around this breathtaking woman. A solution had receded into the distance. Probably there was no explanation at all.

  Adolé got up. It was still early in the morning, but there was no point in staying down any longer. She preferred to take a shower and then go to the studio as usual. She wanted to finally end this unspeakable undertaking and leave it behind and return to her normal life. That was the only way back to normality and away from this madness.

  19.

  After Michelle apparently continued to refuse to participate in the studio recordings, Roswitha's collar burst at some point. Three months had now passed. She had really tried everything to save the recordings, had talked to Ella with angel tongues and tried to bring her to her senses. However, it soon became clear that Ella was not the source of the problem - on the contrary. She was extremely cooperative, but had lost control of her pupil.

  While Roswitha vehemently insisted on continuing the studio work and at the same time finally finishing it in the foreseeable future, Ella wriggled back and forth with flimsy excuses and finally agreed to the only reasonable proposal and interrupted the recordings. Roswitha had actually tried by all means to prevent exactly this last consequence, but in the end she had no other choice. Studio musicians and technicians had other engagements as well. And Adolé herself also had public appearances and other obligations, which she now had to fulfil more and more often. After all, at some point it was also necessary to promote the upcoming CD release in a sensible way.

  In fact, the most sensible thing to do was to put the whole undertaking on ice and wait until the stubborn pianist had finally come to her senses and the recordings could be resumed under the original conditions.

  Adolé had moved out of her usual hotel and got into her tour bus. It was always a comfortable home for her during the touring time of the year and equipped with all imaginable luxury, just as she was entitled to as a superstar.

  She resumed her usual doctoral appointments, tinkered all over Germany and the bordering countries and behaved as professionally as she had always been. Those who didn't know what had happened - and that was everyone except Roswitha - couldn't tell the difference to her usual impeccable behaviour.

  But secretly, questions remained unanswered, and Adolé continued to be upset, no matter how much she concentrated on her appearances, and the distraction this offered her was welcome. Again and again her thoughts wandered to this extraordinary night, which simply had to mean something! She couldn't push aside the same painful questions for good and found herself again and again desperate in thoughts in the mask or other quiet moments, in which she sat unobserved, left to herself, absent in a corner and stared at herself.

  Roswitha rolled her eyes each time and kept saying sentences like: "Child, don't torture yourself like this. Stop that. Understand that you were just one of many. It had no meaning. Don't make it so difficult for yourself...

  Adolé had no more tears. She felt weak and powerless and had given up resignedly to trying to convince Roswitha of something else. She was probably right. Adolé knew she just wanted to make things easier for her. That's why - so what - she pushed thoughts of Michelle aside more and more often. A quarter year was now really enough sadness. After all, they hadn't been a couple. So why all the fuss?

  More and more often Adolé called herself to order, if only to get her daily life under control. She had no opportunity to give herself over to her grief and despair. Even Julius, after all, was not allowed to notice any difference to the "normal" Adolé. She realized that it was better to keep her composure and simply concentrate fully on her career again, as Roswitha prayed to her over and over again. She finally had enough to do.

  So she gave Roswitha's concept a chance and did several other performances and interviews.

  When she was a guest at a well-known German talk show in Cologne on a Friday evening in September, she enjoyed the creative atmosphere of this relaxed live event. She felt comfortable, had checked into one of Cologne's better hotels in the early afternoon and was driven to the studio early.

  The hostess greeted her personally and then discussed with her some of the topics she wanted to address in the show. Other interesting guests were invited, some of whom Adolé knew but of whom she had never heard of before. But exactly that was the attraction of this entertaining evening show.

  She liked the concept of this entertaining show and did well. She talked entertainingly about her unusual everyday life and gave the viewers and conversation partners in the s
tudio an insight into her interesting life. Time flew by and before she knew it, she was already back in her hotel room in the south of Cologne.

  When she came out of the shower and turned on the TV in her room, her cell phone beeped. She threw the obligatory glance at the display and was actually expecting a message from Roswitha when her gaze and movement froze to ice.

  "Can I see you?"

  These four words jumped at her after all the weeks and months of waiting that had passed since then. Four words from the sender "MM".

  Adolé couldn't believe her eyes. Who did that woman think she was?!! Her pulse was racing, she got up and walked restlessly around the room. Again and again she sat down on the comfortable hotel bed, only to jump up again shortly afterwards.

  How was she supposed to react to that now?!?!

  After all, this woman had not only exploited her feelings, she had also disregarded contracts, harmed the crew and finally brought the recordings on her CD to a standstill. She obviously didn't care about her responsibility towards the musicians and everyone involved in her project. Social behaviour seemed to be a foreign word to her.

  Adolé decided not to react to this news. Who would expect her to do anything else?!!!

  She pushed the message away and deleted the corresponding chat history. With a snide movement she moved her phone to the empty side of the bed next to her and lay down. The TV was babbling to herself. She looked up at the ceiling again, as she had done so often lately. Her gaze looked for support up there, her thoughts racing.

  Who could possibly understand that stubborn, opaque woman? Why did she make life so difficult? While she was thinking about it, her gaze slipped back to her phone from time to time, but it lay silently where she had peppered it.

  Should she answer? Should she really make it that easy for her? Or would Michelle possibly write her again? And indeed. It did not take ten minutes before the display of her phone lit up again. It showed only one word:

  "Please. “

  She closed her eyes and breathed heavily. What was that about? She thought, hesitated briefly, doubted. She couldn't have been involved in a meeting like that, could she? And what good would it do? I mean, Michelle had had enough chances, and she'd let them all go by. Worse, she had also ignored professional arrangements, contracts and had turned the whole project upside down. She had gambled away all credit.

  "No. No!" Adolé shook his head. The sting of the injury was too deep. How did this French keyboard player imagine this? "At first she treats me as if I were a supplicant, but my career is at least equal to hers! Then she endangers our CD and our whole project. This is so irresponsible!

  And then she wraps me around her virtuoso fingers, only to disappear from the picture at the end... And I fall for her, too!" Adolé again closed his eyes stunned. She still couldn't believe this had really happened to her. But that wasn't all. "And then she also expects that she only has to snap her fingers and I stand at attention when she changes her mind again?!

  No! Not with me!"

  Adolé took a deep breath. She sat up, grabbed her cell phone and blocked Michelle's WhatsApp contact without comment.

  That's it for now. Once and for all!

  20.

  Since Adolé had fended off Michelle's last attempt to contact her, she had not heard from her again. On the one hand, she found this a relief, especially since she had not succumbed to her charms. On the other hand, she still thought of her, although several weeks had passed in the meantime. Her heart still jumped as soon as her thoughts strayed to her, but often she didn't allow herself these runaways.

  Besides, she had enough on her mind. Now that the recording sessions for the record were officially interrupted, the studio musicians were released from their duties and the studio was no longer kept free, her daily appointments became more and more important - here a TV interview, there a charity event and repeated appearances in well-known TV shows, which further maximized her fame and popularity. Soon there could be no one in Germany who did not know Adolé Varell.

  Michelle Mimieux had disappeared from her life as quickly as she had appeared. Adolé compensated for this loss with work and a sense of duty.

  She was on her way with her driver to one of those talk shows that are very popular in Germany on Friday evenings when she received a call from Roswitha.

  "Yes, please," she whispered happily into the receiver, knowing that Roswitha had set up one of her usual "I wish you all the fun in your life small calls". "Are you on your way yet?" she heard Roswitha ask. "Yes, of course, it's just about to start. You know, I still have to get into make-up, and we always get these short instructions at the beginning, what is allowed, what not, how we should sit and talk and what questions they want to ask, whether we agree with them. Bla bla bla. ", replied Adolé bored.

  "Yes, I know." Roswitha replied. "But that's not why I'm calling. “. She took a creative break, a fact that made Adolé nervously sit up and take notice. Roswitha always resorted to these pauses in art when she didn't quite know how to tell Adolé bad news.

  So Adolé impatiently reiterated: "Oh no... Then why are you calling so shortly before a recording?! Tell me!"

  Roswitha pushed around a bit more and then took an audible run-up. She took a deep breath and then said: "Adolé, we still need a real hit on your project CD with your Frenchwoman. I know you don't want the contact anymore, and of course I understand that. Nevertheless, we still need a real lead, a song that will lift the CD for you from an insider tip and interesting excursion to a new level and also make your work a financial success that justifies all the effort. That's what we are missing so far and you know that...". She paused to wait for Adolé's reaction. She almost thought she couldn't believe her ears, but said only "You're not serious!"

  "But little one. Look. You've had so much work on the album. It really turned out pretty good under such difficult circumstances, which wasn't to be expected, because the pianist didn't really participate and on the contrary was more of a brake than a help. Nevertheless, together with the excellent studio musicians and the technology, you really did a great job. You hardly let yourselves be distracted and conjured up a great album from the little you had. Let's now make sure that it is worth it for everyone...".

  "So what do you want from me now?!" Adolé returned annoyed. She knew that it would be nothing that would get off her hands easily if Roswitha was already buttering her beard so massively.

  She heard Roswitha taking a deep breath at the other end. "You need a hit. And I have two composers on hand who wrote one. I really think their piece is extraordinary - and it fits you perfectly. All you have to do now is work with them and make your song out of them. That's all," Roswitha tried to play down the fact that Adolé should go into the studio again together with Michelle.

  "What?! You want me to take her back to the studio? We've been through this long enough! You know how this goes. "What the hell are you doing?!" she was outraged accordingly.

  "Yes, I know, sweetheart. "Roswitha gave in. "I've already spoken to Ella about it, and she assured me that things would be different this time. Michelle will be there and will also be actively involved in the preparation of the pilot play. In the end at least the EUER will be a joint hit. And Michelle will be good. Ella has assured me."

  "And you believe her again? That's what she said about the other pieces. Weren't we promised a completely different approach for the whole project? Better still - even contractually promised? You know yourself what became of it and how she behaved. All the work got stuck to the boys and me, not to mention everything else. I really don't need that again - I can do my records on my own, I'm better off and I know what I've got.

  Roswitha could not help but agree with her. "Yes, I know, little one. And you're right, of course. But if we don't have this one shot, all the other drudgery was for nothing. Don't do this to yourself. Take one more bite of the apple and finish it properly. Then you'll have something to be proud of for the rest of your life - you and the st
udio musicians at least. At least think of them. You know that they are involved on a percentage basis and can make good use of that extra money.

  When Adolé still didn't bite, she pushed afterwards: "I only ask you to try again. If it's another disaster like this, we'll call it off."

  Because of the studio musicians, who had now really done everything humanly possible to save this crazy idea of cooperation, and because Roswitha assured her that she could stop the work if she tried and it didn't work out again, she finally reluctantly agreed. The press hadn't yet got wind of what had happened here for an extraordinary collaboration - at least externally. Adolé knew this could have been good publicity. Especially free publicity. Without it, they themselves would have had to drum up publicity for their project when the time came. So a real hit at the beginning of the release was actually a real plus.