Chapter 12.2

39K 1K 124
By kewk123

So, dear Static readers. I won't be able to post for a while :( Like a month to be honest. I will be so full with exams and all! I won't even be able to go to my therapies (back spasm) or anything! But after that, it's summer vacations so don't worry :3 But if I do post at some point before that month it's because I somehow found some time.

Anyways, I like this chapter for some reason. It's really... like... deep in a sense? I don't know. Just read it :3

Kewk :3

p.s. I'd advice you to listen to the song next to the chapter ------------------------------------> and below at the last part cuz I think it's important :3

+++

There were many other things… other than the stage fright and how it came to be that have stopped me from playing publicly. Or at least, show my talent.  I enjoyed playing. I enjoyed performing. That’s the simplest of things I can describe music as when I was younger… but there was something that always scared me to death. That was exactly and horribly to try to not disappoint my mom.

It’s not that she was strict or anything, it was just that every time people clapped a lot, after the concert or small performance my mom’s eyes would shine so much. I knew that I, playing the trumpet, held some significance in her ego.

It was dumb now that I think about it, that my personal point of view of success was based on my mom’s reaction. But I was too observant to ignore her… much less if the quality of my playing also determined the enjoyment of others. Because it wasn’t only the public, but my mom.

That’s why that night in L.A. I didn’t stop playing when I realized how much of a burden this responsibility had become for me. I didn’t want to see disappointment in her eyes. At least, I’d simply go through with it and see what would happen later.

Now, we have a simple relationship. One I don’t really mind. We talk to each other when we need to. She pushes me to continue with my independent studies plus the IMT and I ignore anything else that is not important. And we make food for each other if we feel like it, or just the coffee. Now, she also has her Kindle which I guess is a nice substitute of entertainment.

--

“Hey guys.” Zoë said to Heather and the guy who stood next to her in a white suit. “Heather, you already know Alex, but Craig, you don’t know Alex. So, Alex this is Craig and Craig this is Alex.”

I looked at the tall… teenager who eyed me with big brown eyes that sort of reminded me of a cow. That is to say, he looked innocent despite his stature. I could tell his softly brown colored hair was long since he had combed it to the side but it curled up at the ends way down under his right ear. On the other side, his left ear was exposed to reveal a silver earring that looped at his earlobe.

“Nice to meet you.” He said stretching his hand to me.

“Oh. You’re British?” I asked suddenly with no hint of shyness in my voice for some reason.

Craig chuckled, “Yeah. From Yorkshire.”

“Nice.” I said smiling.

Craig smiled back at me with his eyebrows slightly raised as if doing a frown upwards. “Thanks but it’s fairly normal to me.”

“I bet.” I said. Man, this guy was surprisingly easy to talk to… It’s safe to say that he gave me a strange vibe that there was no doubt that he wouldn’t judge me for anything. Or at least I truly didn’t have to bother about what I did or said around him. Craig, huh?

“I like him, already” “I like her already.” We both said at the girls next to us. Me to Zoë, and he to Heather.

Zoë gave me a look of surprise and then smiled at me while shaking her head. “That’s good then cuz he’s another trumpet player. First voice as well.”

“Really?” I asked her back in surprise.

Zoë nodded, “Yeah.”

“Awesome!” I exclaimed raising my hand to Craig who high-fived it without hesitation.

Man, that was great news to me. Not that I hadn’t been thinking about it but it suddenly struck to me that I really really hoped that the other trumpet players were nice, or not awkward because if not it would be incredibly hard to cooperate. Or at least, I’d have a lot of trouble with it.

“By the way,” Heather said, “He’s my cousin.”

My eyes shifted to her after she said that but not because of what she had just said but because of the tone she had used. It was one that almost caught be by the neck and forced me to look at her. It was probably due to the great contrast of personalities the two people in front of me had.

One was just so… easy on the eye and ears. While the other was just tempting to watch and listen to.

“Where do you think my last name comes from then?” She shrugged in her well-fitted white dress, “Adlington. Not American.”

“But you don’t sound British.” I said.

“I have mostly lived in America and a while in France.” Heather said looking directly into my eyes while a grin slowly appeared on her lips. “Never really had the opportunity to learn the accent.”

She nudged Craig who looked down at her with a raised eyebrow but then smiled as if nothing was going on. The four of us talked for a little while longer after that. You can expect that my attention was torn between the three people in my presence but that was because the three made me feel so different about them that it was hard not to stop and think about each individual. In the end, I just blocked out my thoughts and said whatever seemed appropriate for the occasion.

“Hey,” Zoë said looking to the side at the wall where a clock was hanging, “It’s time.”

“For what?” I asked her since I knew she was saying that to me as she had grabbed my wrist suddenly.

“Your solo?” Zoë reminded me. “Don’t tell me you forgot about it.”

Um… no. How the heck was I supposed to forget something that was going to totally take off my comfort zone? I mean, I was practicing it today in the morning until she came over and had be go to her Big Air thing. When I got back home I tried to think about it the less I could because I’d totally get nervous especially because of all the people here. Musicians.

“Don’t worry about it,” Zoë said. “You’d be more nervous if I’d let you come in from the front door. Everyone would’ve seen you immediately. You can thank me for that later. Now let’s go do your thing.”

I looked back at Craig and Heather as Zoë pulled me across the room. Craig gave me a thumbs up with a look of anticipation in his face, obviously since I’m supposed to be better than him. Heather, on the other hand, stared at me with her parted lip look which just froze time for a few seconds in my head because I could feel myself blush a little bit… Man, how was I going to focus right now?

“What are you playing?” Zoë asked me as she pulled me next to her so that we could walk next to each other.

“Trisstesse…” I started

“By Chopin?” Zoë said, rather than ask, honest surprise in her voice. “Wow. Doing a piano piece with a trumpet, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said knowing what she meant. It was a really hard song both in the piano and in any other instrument. Much more in the trumpet because it basically isn’t a trumpet piece, but I guess I’ve always loved these kinds of challenges. “I need accompaniment though.”

“Me?” Zoë asked.

“Yeah.” I said to her, “In my case I’ve got a recording of both voices. The piano and trumpet. I can show it to you.”

She nodded knowing how I knew that she could perfectly play any song after hearing it. I made a different arrangement for it so I knew that the only person I could rely upon to play the song how I wanted was this person next to me. I guess I wholly trusted her in this sort of thing.

We headed to where people were playing the piano at the end of the living room where I had left my trumpet case inside a cupboard. I glanced at the piano realizing it was the one Frank had been fighting for a few days ago. Probably Zoë liked how it looked so she brought it here.

“Frank was annoying with the designers of that thing.” I said using my chin to point at the piano with reverse-colored keys.

“I know.” Zoë said from behind. “I thought that maybe I should be considerate and make his job seem more pleasant. You don’t know how much of an advantage it is to be on his good side.”

 “I do.” I huffed.

I took the trumpet out of the cupboard and set it on a table next to it. I have to admit that I wasn’t surprised that my hands were shaking the hell out of my nervousness. I was not scared like I had been at the party. That time it was because I was incredibly overwhelmed by the whole atmosphere. This time it’s more because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone here. I mean, these people are musicians for crying out loud!

I handed to Zoë the recording of the arrangement which she headed to listen to with the earphones I had left on it while I assembled my trumpet. I grabbed a 3WC mouthpiece, the type I felt the most comfortable with despite the constant advice of using better ones, and put it on the trumpet. Wiggling my finger on the valves I felt the weight of the instrument on my right hand knowing that the faster I got used to it the faster I was going to settle down.

“Yeah I can do it.” Zoë said to me taking off the earphones. “Ready?”

I looked at Zoë for a while locking eyes with her pale blue ones noticing, for some reason, how her eyes were completely blue. There was no hint of any other color there. After a few seconds her eyelids relaxed and she searched my face.

“You’re ready. Just don’t think about it too much.” She said sitting down on the bench after inoffensively telling some guy to move. “Plus I’m here. Remember that.”

I felt myself hesitantly giving her a nod and gulp at the thought of me having to turn around an face the people here. Before I did, or while I was doing it, I heard a boom of a voice from speakers.

“Hello everyone.” Heather said into the microphone she was holding gracefully (how the heck did she get it? I don't know), “May I have your attention?”

People started to look around and noticed the three of us at the end of the room. More and more did after a few seconds so they moved to form a half-circle around us.

When Heather saw that she had caught their attention she continued. “So welcome to the party. Most of us here are from the local high-school so we must at least have seen each other at some point during the year. Now, I was brought here, to the mic I mean, because these two girls over here are going to play something for you.”

I looked at the teens dressed up formally in their mixture of colors staring at both Zoë and me with curious eyes. My grip tightened around the trumpet knowing perfectly how expectant they were of us.

“Let me hand you to Zoë, who, by the looks of it, is who invited us all here.” Heather said handing Zoë the mic and glancing up at me as she took steps back.

“Hey there.” Zoë said from the bench. “So. Let me get straight to the point. You have all been invited here due to the common interest you have. Music. Each having a specific instrument you play which can be part of  a big ensemble. That is: an orchestra.”

People started to murmur to each other, but it seemed as if they weren’t offended. They seemed more excited and totally knowing what she was talking about.

“Of course, some of you knew this already.” Zoë continued, “While the others I bet bothered to come to look for my house before the party to verify I wasn’t going to kidnap you.”

I heard laughs coming from them but I didn’t, I was seriously losing my wit here but not because of all the people here but because Zoë was taking too long already.

As if sensing my discomfort Zoë said, “Now. The purpose of this chamber orchestra is to achieve the huge potential of each and every one of you. Though it’s mainly about one person in particular, and it’s this person in front of me. Alexandra Bianci. So, right now, before you start criticizing such an objective she’s going to play a sonata for you with me, your future conductor as her accompaniment.”

After about a few seconds of awkward silence someone started clapping and the rest did as well in a following wave of sounds. It died out and I was faced with the horrible gap inside of me that I have felt since that last night at L.A.

“Alex,” Zoë whispered reassuringly from behind me. “Ready. Go.”

That cue sort of brought me back to my senses. And that was because it was so stupid of a cue. This is not a sport!

I turned back at her seeing the smirked formed on her face as her hands went down to the piano. Maybe it was her posture on the bench, or the way her hands and arms seemed to flow over the keys, or the way her eyes glanced at me during the introduction that gave me a little bit of courage to lift my trumpet up to my lips and bring out the sound I had practiced for so long.

The thing about this arrangement is that the introduction was played almost as if it was the song itself and then the piano would go back to the start with a distinctive cue only to the trumpet player. Like that I could take over the melody for a while and then exchange with Zoë as she took care of the hardest and literally impossible parts for the trumpet. During the time she did that I’d complement with low notes that took challenged my skills to the max because I had to match them with the melody of the piano as if I were the chords. Then, during the point when Zoë did play the whole song, I’d have to add little parts in where I felt like the trumpet would melt from exhaustion but it didn’t because I was maneuvering it for my own pleasure.

As it came back to what I could describe to you to an encore, almost like a repetition of a chorus, I headed back to the melody. It was much slower now almost as if soothing to the soul, if I want to sound dramatic. It’s called Trisstesse anyway, ‘sadness’ in English.

When Zoë and I played the last note, it somehow lingered in the silent air that followed it. It was as if both me and Zoë were entangled within that small sound that was quietly descending upon us while at the same time leaving us… Man, long time since I have felt that a song is my own even if it isn’t and even if I just played it and each note doesn’t exist after I’ve played it.

That was great.

I heard claps then as I realized it myself and my vision focused back on the people who I could see batted their hands together in a expression of common enjoyment. I saw the look on their faces and saw that glitter in them that I had seen in my mom’s face years ago, and in the people years ago. Though, for some reason I didn’t feel overwhelmed by it, or as if had been useless to play the song. It felt completely different, as if there was no real responsibility for these people.

It all was for me. Only for me. It sounds a little selfish but it makes sense…

It dawned on me though that I don’t know how I can think of this if I know it won’t always feel like that. How can I think music is only for my own enjoyment and that all the rest is a plus?

My hands went to my side remembering how this was one of the other reasons why I hated playing in public… because I knew things weren’t only for me. When it came to performances, it was also for others… people with expectations, critics, ratings…

“Look,” I heard next to me. It was that deep voice I had forgotten for a while. The voice that would always make me turn despite the fact that I was succumbed inside my own thoughts. “They’ve enjoyed it. Now there won’t be anyone who can criticize your talent. It’s about earning respect and nothing more. Every great musician has faced troubles. But nothing has stopped them from expressing their love for their music. Though to do that they needed respect.”

I stared at Zoë and I didn’t understand why she was saying that but I knew that was exactly what I needed to hear. I think. Not sure myself. I don’t know.

For some reason, however, the only thing I was sure of at the moment was how I felt Zoë’s arms wrap around me as I felt tears running down my cheeks. 

Crying is so stupid... I never do it.

...Trisstesse huh?

It sure is a stupid thing when you’ve been holding it for such a long time.

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