Landon stood outside the San Francisco Conservatory of Music admiring the juxtaposition of the modern glass against the colonial style columns. It suggested a modern take on classical themes, an idea Landon could get behind.
Royce stood beside him, giving a soft hum of approval.
The last week had been hell for Landon. Not only did he struggle to get through his theory classes and rehearsals, but his hours spent in the practice room were haunted by memories. He kept expecting Derek to slide into the room, ready to seduce him again. And Landon knows he wouldn’t have been strong enough to say no if he had. Landon had abandoned all attempt to hang out in the lobby with his friends at the risk of seeing Derek walk by. Instead, he had spent the extra time in the practice rooms.
He played and played until his lips were chapped and his cheeks ached. Even his wrists were beginning to twinge, a side effect from not taking enough breaks. Nina had been furious with him.
“You’re going to burn yourself out! You need to rest. If you don’t rest, don’t expect to do well at your audition,” she had said during their last lesson a couple of days ago.
Landon had taken a day to rest and felt antsy the entire time.
Royce and Landon had made the trip down to San Francisco last night. Royce had splurged on a hotel room. Landon had protested while they had made plans, only for Royce to shoot him down.
“You need to be well rested for your audition. Not rushed. Besides, it’s already paid for.”
That had been the end of that.
Now that he was here, a strange sense of melancholy filled him. He was really doing this. If everything went according to plan, he would be leaving Tri-Pac, leaving Royce by January.
And he wouldn’t have to see Derek again.
The sharp pain in his chest had dulled to a throb over the last week. In its place grew a soft anger, a frustration at being cast aside as though he were nothing. There had been moments where all Landon had wanted was to march into Derek’s office and give him a piece of his mind. But he also feared that Derek would still refuse to listen. Derek had kept his distance during rehearsal and classes, not sparing Landon a glance. Landon wasn’t a fool to think Derek actually cared enough about him to listen to his tragic little story. In the end, he held onto the anger, a reminder that it was a better idea to just let Derek go.
“Are you ready for this?” Royce asked.
Landon nodded, giving Royce a huge grin. The excitement had been bubbling in his stomach for the last twenty-four hours. He was ready. They walked toward the building, Royce holding the door open for Landon.
Royce had been nothing but a saint for the last week. Despite having his own studies to deal with, Royce had spent every spare moment with Landon. They had eaten all the bad food they could and drank all the alcohol over the weekend. They had nursed the biggest hangovers the following day in front of the television. Landon knew Royce worried about him. And Landon was more than ready to be over Derek. Ready to move on with his life.
And here was the first step.
It didn’t take long for Landon and Royce to find out where they needed to be. Landon was given access to one of the practice rooms, a room twice the size of some of the smaller ones at Tri-Pac.
“Remember, don’t blow out your chops before you’ve even begun,” Royce said.
Landon rolled his eyes. “It’s like I’ve never played before.”
Royce winked at Landon. “You’ll do great. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”
Landon smiled as Royce left.
Turning, he placed his music on the stand. He placed his case on the floor and unsnapped the fasteners. Pulling his horn free, Landon grabbed the mouthpiece and blew some hot air into it, feeling it warm in his palm. He attached the mouthpiece to his horn and gave a few testing buzzes. He smiled at the sound.
The next fifteen minutes were spent in a haze of scales and arpeggios. He ran a few of the more difficult sections of the solo pieces he had planned to perform for the audition. He felt good about the music, but he also felt distracted.
What was he even doing here? Was this the right place for him?
Get a grip! It’s just an audition. You don’t have to come here if you don’t want to, though you would be a fool not to.
And he would be. The San Francisco Conservatory of Music would set him up with the education that would let him do anything he wanted. He could teach, he could perform, he could compose. Anything he wanted. All he needed to do was reach out and take it.
Derek filled his mind as he raced through yet another scale.
Landon couldn’t stop the yearning he felt for the man. He wanted Derek with him. Nothing else mattered to him anymore.
The thought made him crack a note.
A soft knock sounded on the door. Royce poked his head into the window.
Landon pulled the door open to let Royce in.
“It’s time, Landon,” Royce said. “How you feeling?”
Landon shrugged. “Nervous, excited.” At Royce’s pointed look, Landon sighed. “I’m making a mistake, aren’t I?”
Royce shook his head. “No mistakes here. None at all. You’re doing what’s right for you. And there’s no harm in putting yourself first.”
Landon nodded, still not quite convinced.
They made their way down the stairs.
“I’ll be right back, gotta find a restroom.” And Royce took off before Landon could say a word. Landon frowned after him.
Giving a small sigh, Landon waited a moment before he turned around. Maybe he could just go on with Royce, get this audition over with. Then they could go home and watch more bad ‘80’s films.
Landon caught sight of a man with dark hair coming in through the front doors just ahead. The light behind him cast his features in shadow for a moment, but then cleared.
Landon’s heart stopped, any movement frozen in time.
Derek.
The shock of seeing Derek in San Francisco, at the Conservatory, made Landon’s mind go blank. He watched as Derek drew closer, their eyes meeting. He didn’t want to believe what he was seeing, hoping against all hope that it was true.
Derek was smiling at him.
Landon sucked in a breath, his heart now beating hard enough that Landon was afraid Derek could hear it.
He was dreaming. Had to be dreaming.
He watched as the man walked closer to him. He was wearing those familiar tight dark-wash jeans and a close fitting gray t-shirt. His dark leather jacket billowed open in front. He looked good enough to eat and right at home in San Francisco.
“What are you doing here?” Landon finally forced out when Derek drew close enough.
Landon watched as Derek paused, a sad look crossing his features.
“Landon,” he began. Landon shut his eyes at the sound of the man’s voice, fighting the sting in them. It was real. It was all real. Derek was here, in San Francisco.
Why?
Landon felt a soft touch on his arm and he jerked away, eyes wide. Derek stood with his arm outstretched, a haunted look on his face.
It was then that Landon noticed that Derek didn’t look any better than he had all week. The dark circles under his eyes contrasted sharply to his pale skin. Lines had been etched around his eyes and lips. He looked tired.
Derek looked down at his feet, as though gathering his thoughts, then back up to Landon.
Landon saw the fierce determination in those dark eyes and swallowed hard.
“I know my being here is probably the worst idea, but I honestly didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to be here for you, today. I wanted to show you I support you and your decisions. I should have listened to you. I should have realized that you are your own person and you had reasons behind your decisions. How I behaved,” Derek’s voice broke. He cleared it. “How I treated you was wrong. It was unfair. And if you never want to see me again, I will respect that.”
Landon felt the floor lurch beneath his feet. His grip tightened on the trumpet hard enough for his fingers to ache. His vision was blurring and darkening around the edges. If he could only sit down for just a moment…
“Jesus, Landon,” Derek said, striding to him and gripping his arms. “Breathe.”
Landon sucked in gulps of air. The darkness hovering at the edges of his vision faded away. The familiar scent, the sweet warm sandalwood and something distinctly Derek, surrounded him. Overwhelmed him.
“Royce,” Landon said. Derek frowned at him. “Royce told you, didn’t he?”
Derek nodded.
“So, you’re here because you pity me?” Landon reaches for the anger, his constant companion for the last week. He can’t believe that Derek is actually here for any other reason.
“No, Landon,” Derek answered, his tone soft. “I can’t begin to understand what you went through. But I’m not here out of pity. Never that.”
“Then why are you here?” Landon demanded.
“I love you.” The words seem to echo in the stillness of the hallway. Derek met Landon’s eyes fearlessly. “I love you. I never want you to hide who you are for me or for anybody else.”
The anger that Landon had held on to for so long dissipated in an instant. In its place came the rising warmth of hope. Landon leapt forward and, holding his trumpet to the side, kissed Derek.
Derek’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close and answering the kiss with enthusiasm. Landon allowed himself to drift within the warmth, the scent, the taste of Derek. All the ugliness of the last week melted away. He let his tongue slide into Derek’s mouth, wishing his hands were free so he could grip onto Derek’s hips.
After what seemed like only moments, Derek pulled back, holding Landon in place. Then he leaned forward, his lips brushing Landon’s ear.
“We can continue this later, but right now you have an audition to do.”
Landon turned when Derek pulled back, seeing Royce with his thumbs up and a wide grin. Next to him stood a faculty member in a suit and a light blush on her cheeks. Most likely one of the judges.
Landon’s neck and cheeks warmed.
“Mr. Woods?” she asked.
Landon stepped away from Derek and put on his most charming smile. “Right here. I apologize if I’ve kept you.”
“Oh, no, not at all,” she said, waving a hand in dismissal. She smiled at the two men before her. “If you’ll follow me? We’re ready for you.”
Turning back to Derek, Landon leaned close and whispered, “I love you, too.” He watched as Derek’s eyes and mouth widened into a relieved grin. Then he turned on his heel, following the woman down the hallway and onto the stage.
Landon glanced at the panel of faculty members sitting in the well-lit auditorium as he walked out onto the stage. Or floated. He wasn’t sure, but it certainly felt as though he were floating.
“Good afternoon.” Landon gave a short bow in greeting. “I’m Landon Woods. Thank you for having me.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Woods,” called a middle-aged man in a tweed jacket and large eyebrows. The eyebrows were the only distinguishable feature Landon could see from the stage. “Proceed whenever you’re ready.”
Landon turned to the stand and placed his music on it. After a moment of consideration, he moved the stand to the side, facing the wall. It wasn’t a requirement that he play the music from memory, but he felt confident that he could do it.
Lifting his trumpet to his mouth, Landon began to play.
He thought of Derek as much as he concentrated on the music. The piece Landon played had been written for a Catholic mass nearly three hundred years ago. The music was full of reverent prayer and love for their God, written in a minor key and full of dissonance. Landon remembered the ache he felt for Derek, and the love channeling it into the piece.
Derek had surprised him, traveling all the way down to San Francisco to show his support. To apologize to Landon. He knew they had a lot of things to work through, and it wouldn’t be easy, but he was willing.
The piece ended, the last note echoing in the vast hall. Nobody moved for a few moments, not even Landon. Finally, he lowered his horn and watched as the faculty stared at him. Gradually, the returned to their notes, writing down their observations.
“Thank you, Mr. Woods,” said the man with the eyebrows. He stood. “I’m Professor Moyer. I’m one of the trumpet instructors. Can you give me the chromatic scale?”
Landon nodded and lifted his horn. Professor Moyer asked him for a few other scales before asking him to continue with his second piece. This time, the professor walked up to the stage and stopped Landon halfway through the piece. He began to instruct Landon, asking Landon to play sections over and over again. Worry grew in Landon’s belly at the gesture. He had never heard of an instructor giving a lesson in the middle of an audition. But he went along with it, implementing the changes Professor Moyer suggested.
In the end, Professor Moyer stood back and nodded. He had a slight smile on his face, as though he had done a good job with Landon.
“Excellent work, Mr. Woods. I’ll expect to see more of that come January.”
And with that, the professor turned and walked back down the stairs toward his colleagues. Landon stared after the man, frozen in place. Someone cleared their throat to his right, startling him into motion. He rushed to grab his music, nearly forgetting to say thank you as he bolted from the stage.
Did I just get in?
Landon looked at the assistant that had escorted him from the stage.
“Um, excuse me,” he said, gaining her attention. He noticed a piercing in the bottom corner of her lip. He liked it. “Did Professor Moyer say what I think he just said?”
The assistant smiled at him. “I’ve never seen him do that during an audition before. He’s not one to waste time. He must have seen something in you. I can’t say anything officially, of course, but I would start looking for an apartment nearby.” With that, the girl turned and entered the stage, leaving Landon alone in the hall.
Mind reeling, Landon turned and walked back toward where he knew Derek and Royce were waiting for him.
“Well?” Royce called, bounding over to Landon.
Landon let the grin he had been suppressing shine.
“I think they liked it. The trumpet instructor even started giving me a lesson on the stage.”
“Holy shit!” Royce crowed, giving a quick jump before rushing to Landon and giving him a hard hug.
Landon looked at Derek, who held his trumpet case. He had a warm look on his face. Landon flushed.
Derek looked proud of him.
“We heard some of your playing out here,” he said, drawing closer. “Sounded beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Landon said. He cast a look toward Royce.
Royce rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Fine. I’ll be outside, you two lovebirds.”
Landon laughed before taking the case away from Derek and setting it on the floor. He busied himself with putting his horn away.
Nerves skated inside his belly. Derek was really here. Derek really said he loved him. Derek was willing to be with him.
Landon snapped his case closed and stared at the top. He didn’t know what to do next. What did Derek expect? They couldn’t just start holding hands and walk off into the sunset, could they?
Derek knelt beside Landon. He placed his hands over Landon’s, prompting Landon to look up at him.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Derek whispered.
Landon couldn’t stop the flush. How did he even begin to ask Derek what they were to do now?
One word at a time.
He sucked in a breath.
“What do we do now?” Landon asked.
Derek smiled. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?”
Landon’s jaw dropped. “Here? In public?”
Derek nodded. “Here. In public,” he repeated.
Landon began to smile and nod right away. “I would like that very much,” he said. Then a thought occurred to him. “What about Royce? We were going to drive home tonight.”
“Let’s ask if he’d like to join us. Though, I do have to protest against his attendance for the activities I have planned after dinner.”
Landon flushed even as he laughed. Derek pulled him into his embrace.
“I missed your blushes,” he murmured into Landon’s ear.
“I missed you,” Landon returned, brushing his lips against Derek’s neck.
“Don’t start,” Derek warned.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”