16
Adam
I stood in front of the mirror in my hotel, just looking at myself.
Not narcissistically like I usually would. But because I had just bought a new suit.
It was blue with gold pinstripes, I paired it with a white button up, which was also bought that day. I could afford any suit I wanted, and I could have a collection of them, but this was the first one I’d ever purchased.
I could barely recognize myself in the mirror.
I walked by it many times, and glanced over, pretending like it was someone else. The suit covered most of my tattoos, except for the ones on my hands, and the ones poking out of the collar on my neck. But I figured that it’d be alright.
There was a red tie sitting on the bed.
I fiddled around with it many times, watching tutorials online to see how to tie it. I didn’t want to ask the guys or Simon, or my mom even. I was afraid that they’d ask me where I was going all dressed up.
I remembered that Pacey’s parents ended up paying for my ticket for prom in my senior year. I’d borrow a suit from Pacey’s dad, and he helped me to tie the tie.
He even picked out a rose for me to give to my date. Pacey didn’t have a date so the three of us shared a limo to the banquet.
After a while of tying and untying the knot several times, I gave up and shoved the tie in my pocket. I didn’t want to be late.
Earlier, I had arranged for a personal car pick me up and a bodyguard to escort me to the music hall.
The sky was already dark and it was just past seven o’clock. The car was waiting out back.
As we passed by the front of the hotel, I saw that there were more paparazzi than before.
I was anxious in the car, and I wasn’t sure why.
I’d never been nervous even at my own shows. But the thought of seeing Pacey perform for the first time was making my pits sweat. It didn’t help that I was trapped in this uncomfortable suit.
It was a short drive to the Music Hall.
People stood outside in suits and dresses. That evening was particularly warm, and the ground was wet from the melted snow.
The driver opened the door for me, and I stepped outside.
I heard whispers in the crowd and eyes followed me. I guess wearing a suit wasn’t enough to stop people from recognizing me.
I had a tight smile on my face, and I headed inside.
The man at the door scanned my ticket. Pacey had mailed a hard copy to my hotel.
Through the main doors was a tall and narrow atrium filled with even more people.
The crowd was a bit more mature and definitely not the type of people who’d go to my concerts. At least not in the clothes they were wearing that evening.
I was able to blend in with the crowd better since most of the men were dressed similarly.
I scanned the room looking for a bar. There was one near the top of the staircase.
As I was walking towards the bar, there was a tap on my shoulder, and I turned around.
It didn’t take me more than a second to recognize his face.
“Adam?” he said.
“Mr. Rivers!”
He opened up his arms, and I let his arms envelop me. He’d always smelled like Pacey. Home.
“It’s been a minute,” he said.
“I know,” I said, wanting to apologize and explain myself for not talking to him for so long.
He grabbed onto my arms and pulled me into his chest, then he eyed me up and down.
“You’re beefier than the last time I saw you,” he said, smile beaming from ear to ear.
“I know, I know. Been hitting the gym and eating healthy,” I said.
He touched the tattoos that were visible on my hands. “Got some chicken scratches on your skin now too, eh?”
I shyly pulled my hands away and smiled. “Just a few.”
Mr. Rivers saw the tie dangling out from the pocket of my suit jacket, and he pulled it out, ironing it with his hands.
He casually flipped the collar of my shirt up and wrapped the tie around my neck. In just a few seconds, he tied the perfect knot and tightened it around my neck.
Behind him, I saw Mrs. Rivers approach. There was a smile on her face that was bigger and brighter than any smile I’d seen in a long time.
“Wow,” she said.
Her hands stretched out as she straightened my collar. Then went in for a hug as well.
“Mrs. Rivers, I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful,” I said.
Her silver dress was detailed with rhinestones. She was wearing earrings that looked like the chandeliers hanging above us.
“Adam, still charming as ever,” she said.
She pinched my cheeks, and her green eyes met mine.
They reminded me of Pacey’s. She leaned in and kissed me on the forehead. I couldn’t help but compare her kiss to my own mom’s. Hers was warm, my mom’s was cold.
“I was just about to get a drink before the show. Can I treat you to one?” I asked.
“How about I get the first round, you get the second,” Mr. Rivers said.
He went up to the counter and ordered champagne for us.
As we were waiting in the atrium for the show to start, neither of them asked me much about the past. They just looked thrilled to see me.
They must’ve figured that I’d been doing alright for myself. They’d glance at me then back at each other like proud parents would to their own son.
Mrs. Rivers looked at the time. The show was starting soon, so we went inside to take our seats. Our tickets showed that we were sitting next to each other. I knew that Pacey planned that and it wasn’t by some lucky chance.
Mr. and Mrs. Rivers insisted that I sat between them, so I did.
We were in the highest section on the balcony that was exactly centered to the stage. I looked all around as people looked for their seats. They quickly filled up.
When everyone was settled, there wasn’t even one empty seat in sight. It was a full house.
The musicians entered from the door next to the stage. People clapped as sections of musicians walked in. From violinists to bassoonists.
Then, the very last person to walk out was Pacey.
I clapped as loud as I could and whistled before Mrs. Rivers put her hands over my mouth. She gave me a look, then we both burst out into quiet laughter.
It must have caught Pacey’s attention because he looked up at us. He shook his head in disapproval but with a grin on his face.
Pacey sat down at his harp, the only one on the stage.
The harp looked different from the one in his home. It was white and silver, and the lights above the stage shone onto it, making it glow.
He organized his music on his stand, and I could tell that he looked a bit nervous. I wasn’t sure if it was because his parents and I were there or if he was always that tense before a performance.
The conductor walked out. He was wearing a black tuxedo, his hair was gray and frizzy as if he’d forgotten to comb it, or just didn’t bother to.
He got up at the conductor’s stand and all the musicians stood up to bow to him. Then, he went right into the first song.
The first thing I noticed was how beautiful the acoustics were in the circular music hall.
Every instrument could be distinguished from each other. There was no audio feedback like the places I played at.
The second thing I noticed was how wonderful classical music sounded live.
I’d always written it off as a genre of music that was for old people. But I was wrong. The harmonizing melodies, the gentle subtlety of the different instruments, and the passion coming from the musicians put me on the edge of my seat.
I leaned up against the railing to watch the performance. I was captivated by the beautiful phrases by the violins, the assertive and playful buzz of the trombones, the jazzy riffs of the saxophone.
I felt a hand run on my back, breaking me from my trance.
It was Mr. Rivers who had a smile on his face. He squeezed my shoulder, a gesture to show that we were sharing this beautiful experience together. I looked over at Mrs. Rivers who was swiping a tissue at her eye.
“Don’t mind me, I cry every time I come here,” she said.
I couldn’t help but smile at how her dark mascara was running down her face.
I turned back to focus on the music. Each and every song that the Symphony played gave me another music idea. I couldn’t wait to get back into the studio.
At intermission, I went back to the main atrium with Mrs. Rivers who needed to fix her makeup in the bathroom. I went to the bar to get more champagne.
We returned and chatted a bit about my life in Los Angeles. It was just casual stuff that skimmed the surface of my life. None of us wanted to get that deep into our lives after we hadn’t spoken in so long.
The lights dimmed once again, and the hall went silent.
The conductor walked out, and instead of going right into a song, he spoke into the microphone.
“I’ve been a conductor for the Symphony Orchestra for a long time,” the conductor said. “I had always thought that you needed years of experience to be able to play at a high level. While I’m correct about that for the majority of people, two years ago, I decided to open up auditions to everyone. It was essentially a blind audition. When a young gentleman came in, I saw something in him that changed everything I knew about music. At twenty-four, Pacey Rivers is the youngest member by far, and we’re honored to have him as a part of the orchestra. This is a song that was composed to showcase this young man’s talent. I can ramble on for another hour about this guy, but I’ll let the music do the talking.”
He turned around again, and the crowd went silent.
My heart beat fast in my chest as I looked at Pacey. He looked relaxed. Still.
His focus was unbreakable.
The song began with a gentle hum from the flutes. Then, the violins came in, harmonizing with the flutes.
Both instruments diminished into the background.
Pacey came in gently, playing a soft riff on the harp.
The riff intensified, and the conductor’s arms were still, as Pacey played his solo. His body flowed with the music, moving with increasing intensity like the feeling right before an orgasm.
The percussion started to play quietly, letting Pacey be the focal point.
I could feel the passion coming from his harp, into my ears, then right into my fucking heart.
The hair on my arms rose under my suit, and tingles of pleasure shot throughout my body.
Pacey slowly transitioned back to the quiet riff. The violins came back in, then the flutes, and finally silence.
It was customary to hold applause until the end of the performance. But I couldn’t help myself and I stood and started clapping.
Shortly after, Mrs. Rivers stood up too. When I glanced over, she was even more of a mess than before intermission. Her newly applied makeup was all over her face again.
Mr. Rivers stood up and started clapping along with us.
Then, our whole section of the balcony rose, and like a chain reaction, the whole music hall was on their feet.
It was a standing ovation for Pacey.
The conductor gestured for Pacey to stand up. He did, shyly waving at the crowd, turning to each section. He looked up where I was sitting, and I winked at him. I knew he couldn’t see me in the dark, but I did it anyway.