SEBASTIAN
It’s been two weeks since we started rehearsals for the new album, and I think I deserve some sort of medal for keeping my hands off of Cadence. Almost ten rehearsal sessions of me sitting there alternating between thinking of taking her in every position known to red-blooded mankind and then visualizing Weird Al Yankovic in a teddy and rotting meat to stop the effect that thinking of fucking her has on my cock.
Every sound, every word, every move she makes drives me fucking insane. The way her hair falls down her back, the soft bounce of her hips when she walks, her ass swaying to the music on the piano stool. Every little movement is torture to me. And she’s the only one who can relieve it.
Is this the age old effect of just not getting what you want? Because if it is, with this contract in place, I can’t see me getting any relief any time soon.
It doesn’t help that the other guys adore her. Because now I couldn’t get rid of her if I tried. She’s hardworking, passionate and just as talented as any of us. After long days at work, she comes and works until one of us begs Dennis to let us stop; never complaining, never stopping. Every rehearsal, she walks in here having taken everything we’ve suggested on board and worked on it. And every rehearsal she walks out, and I have to do everything in my power not to chase after her. Tell her, beg her not to leave.
Sometimes I also visualize me throwing her over my shoulder and dragging her back to my room like a caveman, but mostly, I just want to be with her, around her. Around her infectious endless positivity, her sharp and bright outlook on life.
She’s done exactly what I’d hoped she would, breathe life back into our band. Reminding us how lucky we are to be doing what we’re doing, and the life it allows us.
A few nights ago, almost falling asleep exhausted from our rehearsal schedule, I let the deal slip to Marius. Surprisingly, he didn’t find it too shocking All he said was, “Good thing she can actually play.”
Well, that and, “Don’t fuck it up.”
If he means professionally, well, that’s up to her.
If he means personally, I think it’s too late for that.
***
“Sebastian, can I talk to you alone for a moment?” Cadence comes up to me after we’ve packed up our instruments for the day. It’s the first time she’s initiated any individual conversation with me and I can’t help but be a little surprised. My pause must have confused her and her face is closing up, as if she’s embarrassed to have bothered me.
“Oh, sorr-...” she starts and turns away.
On instinct I reach out and grab her gently around the wrist. She doesn’t shake me off. “No. Sorry, I was just daydreaming. Of course we can talk.” I lead her over to a quiet corner of the room, away from the guys chatting in the living area. “What can I help you with?”
She looks up at me, and for the first time in weeks, I’m staring down into her eyes again. Their oak brown depths are endless and in seconds I’m already getting lost in them.
“I have something for you,” she says and I notice her holding a flat brown paper bag.
“Oh. What is it?” I can’t guess what it might be, and I can’t think of any reason she’d be giving me something.
“It’s, ah, it’s actually, from me and the kids in the orchestra. Um, kinda like, ah, an early thank you.”
I’m shocked. I don’t know what she’s told them, but I’m surprised that she’s told them anything at all. I guess she has no doubt that I’ll follow through with my promise. I can’t believe the confidence she has in me if that’s the case.
“A thank you? For what?”
She doesn’t smile, but something flickers in her eyes that fills me with warmth. A look of deep appreciation. One I can’t imagine that I deserve.
“For giving us hope.”
“Cadence...” What is it about this woman that touches the very core of me?
“I haven’t promised them anything yet, I just told them, it’s possible that someone may be answering our prayers.”
I lean in, wanting her to hear every word, “You know I have no intention of ever breaking the deal we’ve made, right? You can count on that money.”
“I know.” And I hear it in her voice, she really does.
“Good.” I smile. “Now, are you actually going to give me my gift?”
She laughs and it’s like a fucking nightingale singing, and hands the small bag to me. “We’ve been practicing this over the last few days. The kids came in early to record it this morning. Sorry about the blurry video, we just did it on my iPhone.”
“What’s it of?” I open it and see a DVD. I’m burning with curiosity.
“You’ll see. Or hear. We hope you like it. I chose it specifically for you. I hope you’re not disappointed for believing in us.” And then, she leans in, and grazes my cheek with her lips. “You’re a really good guy, Sebastian.”
I’m frozen to the spot. I’m torn between wanting to run to my laptop and put the DVD in, and pulling her back for another kiss.
She makes the decision for me.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow! Great rehearsal today!” She calls across the room as she walks away from me, lingering at the door for a moment for one last look, and then closing the door behind her.
“Hey! What’s that?” Jez comes over to me, and takes the disc from my hands.
“Oi! Give it back. It’s private.”
“Oooh, private with our Cadey. We want to know!” Marius pipes up and jumps on the couch.
“Jez, give it the fuck back. It’s none of your business!”
“Come and get it, piss ant!”
I pretend to give up and just as he turns away, I run over, leaping over the couch, and wrestle him to the floor. He grunts and tries to knee me in the groin as I straddle over him. He throws the DVD over to Marius before I can grab it from him. I punch him in the shoulder and he grabs my hand and twists it.
“Ah fuck!!! Let go, dickhead!” I scream, which just makes him twist harder. I manage to get my other arm free and give him a right hook to the left cheek.
“Motherfucker!” He grunts in pain, loosening his grip for a moment given me a chance to grab his throat with my hand.
“WHAT DO YOU PICKLEDICKS THINK YOU ARE DOING?!” Dennis’ voice booms over us and we stop wrestling, still holding each other tight, but turn so we’re both on our backs looking up at his face, so red it looks like it might just pop off his neck in a cloud of steam.
“Erm. He started it!” Jez nods to me.
“Did fucking not.” I pout and tighten my grip around his neck and he pretends to choke.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me. Do you KNOW how much I pay in insurance for those girly hands of yours? And hire people to do everything from your laundry to your dishes to practically tying your shoeslaces, for fuck’s sake? It’s so you don’t hurt them doing anything more strenuous that jerking off. NOW FUCKING LET GO OF EACH OTHER!”
“Count to three and we’ll do it at the same time.” Jez tells him.
“Good lord, I should just let you kill yourselves and take the life insurance and go live on an island where I never have to listen to any string instruments ever again.” He moans and presses the ball of his hand against his temple.
“You better do it or else they’ll still be there in a week’s time. Remember that time Jez didn’t change his shirt for two weeks because no one laughed at the joke printed on it?” Brad reminds him.
“Oh, yeah! That was a good one! Hey, Dennis, knock knock.”
“I’ll knock knock your fucking heads together! Fucking hell. On three, OK, willywankers? One, two, three.”
“Ooooof!” We let go and push each other away, biting back smiles.
“Guys, shut up and look at this.” Marius waves to the laptop screen. He’s put in the DVD.
We go over to the couch just as the video focuses.
It’s Cadence. She’s dressed as she was at rehearsal today. A long, sleek, sleeveless V-neck black dress and black ankle boots. She comes to the front of the lens. The camera shakes a bit and she laughs and reaches out, stabilizing it. Then without a word, she goes and sits down at the baby grand piano, where I first heard her play.
The cameraman walks over to her and zooms in on her face. She closes her eyes and places her hands on the keys. Taking a deep breath, she opens her eyes, and starts to play.
It’s a beautiful melody that I think is from the soundtrack of The Truman Show. I don’t know if there’s any meaning behind her choosing this song, but it’s a simple, gorgeous piece that sounds angelic coming from her talented fingers. Everyone is just as mesmerized as I am. It’s hard to focus too much on each other during our rehearsals because to some extent we’re all trying to work on our own parts, but here, unencumbered by our own need for perfection, we can really sit back and enjoy her performance.
Then, as the piece comes to a soft, gentle end, the camera zooms out and the rest of the room comes into view. Her entire orchestra is sitting there, instruments in hand and without missing a beat, as soon as she plays her last note, the orchestra lifts into song.
Cadence runs from the piano to the middle of the room and climbs onto her conductor’s box, arms lifting, fingers alive, already directing her band to create their best sound.
Marius whoops when he realizes they’re playing “The Fight Song” by Rachel Platten and holds up his fists and punches in time to the music.
They are good. Really good. Cohesive as an ensemble as well as individually talented. I watch them watching her, their passion matching hers look for look, note for note. There’s a look of pride on her face that is infectious, and I wonder how it is I already feel a sense of belonging to this band, as if their future successes will be mine as well.
Just as the chorus breaks, on screen, a teenager drops his bow and stands up in his spot, holding up a sign with the lyrics.
We can’t help but sing along at the top of our voices, grinning at each other during the impromptu karaoke session.
The song soon comes to an epic, overwhelming close. The entire orchestra all get to their feet and yell out, “THANK YOU, SEBASTIAN.”
Cadence turns and gives the camera a small nod and smile and it fades to black.
I wonder how I can be physically rooted to this very spot and yet be moved solar systems emotionally.
“Dude, that was cool. What was it?” Jez asks me, gesturing to the blank laptop screen.
“It was, um, it was Cadence’s school orchestra. She just, um, she wanted to show me something they were working on.”
“Why’d they say ‘thank you, Sebastian’?”
I don’t want to tell them. I want it to be just between her and me. Well, and Marius and the kids. But not the rest of the guys.
Marius, in one of his rare insightful moments, sees me hesitating, interrupts and quickly changes the subject. “Oi, Brad, you know a lot about jockstrap itch. Does mine smell a little funky to you? Come have a sniff!” And as if he’s a magician, pulls a pair of boxers out of his pocket.
Everyone, including me, groans, and just like that, it’s forgotten.
I catch Marius’ eye and give him a thankful look. He just winks and then turns back to chasing Brad around the room waving his underwear over his head. Ejecting the DVD from the laptop, I hold it against my chest for a moment before slipping it into my bag and trying to ignore the worried look that Dennis is giving me.