SEBASTIAN
Her friend replies before she does.
“Wow. You guys are with...you’re the band.”
Jez grins that grin of his I’ve seen him lure thousands of women with, and reaches out his hand, “And you are?”
But she seems to know just the kind of smile Jez has given her, “I am...married,” she replies, matching his grin, but just for a moment, before she turns to Cadence. “Wait. He called you by your name. Do you two know each other? You told me you’d never heard of them before.”
I watch her, dying to know the answer myself.
Cadence looks up at me, her eyes locking with mine. I blame the sudden racing of my heart on the short jog Jez and I had just taken catching up to the girls. I cock an eyebrow, waiting for her answer, but she seems tongue tied.
“Um, no. We, er, we just met briefly today.” I speak up, just to break the silence.
“Today?” Her friend frowns a little, as if turning something over in her brain. “When did you meet anyone today? You were at work all day, until lunch time when you went to...” Suddenly, everyone turns to me. “You’re the bloody rosin thief!”
Cadence’s mouth drops open and her eyes grow wide, striking. She grabs her friend’s arm and shushes her. “Shut up, Sarah!”
Sarah just shrugs her off and turns back to me, her face excited. I wonder what I’m in for. “You are, aren’t you? The one who took the last rosin she needed for class. She’s been going on about that rosin all day. She didn’t mention how good-looking you are, though...or that you’re a freakin’ celebrity!”
I cover my face with my hand, unable to hide the smile at the news that I’ve been on her mind as much as she’s been on mine.
“Yeah. You really pissed her off.” Her friend adds.
Oh. OK, maybe not for the same reason though.
Cadence groans and the sound is seductive. I’m finding it hard not to try to commit every look, every sound of hers to memory.
“I promised you I’d make it up to you,” I say to Cadence, feeling like it’s a promise for so much more than pilfered rosin.
“That’s only if I give you the chance,” she finally speaks up. The challenge sends a chill through me. It’s been a while since a woman spoke to me this way. Most of the time they’re falling over themselves to tell me how much they love me.
Jez guffaws next to me and I guess he’s figured out who was the reason for my slip-up during our intro. Which means he’s enjoying her challenge to me a little too much.
“And why wouldn’t you?” I ask her, and hold my breath for the answer.
She looks at me, and I can see something in the back of her eyes, playful but dangerous. Who is this woman?
“Well, what chance does a thief have to make it up to me when I still owe him a spanking?” She shrugs a little to make her point and stares me down.
“Whooooa.” Sarah and Jez exclaim simultaneously, and Jez hops up and down a little out of pure excitement. I want to kick him in the shin, but I’ll save it for later when I’m not being scrutinized by this strange creature.
“Be honest, Mary, you kinda want to give me that spanking now, don’t you?” I grin at the way she cringes on hearing my nickname for her, but I can tell she won’t give into the urge to ask me about it.
“Only to teach you the lesson in politeness that you’ve obviously need.” She counters.
“Ooooh!” Our two spectators gasp.
“I’m plenty polite. In fact, I remember I thanked you with a kiss.” I say, pressing my finger to my temple as if in thought.
“What?” Jez yells out.
“Oh relax, it was just a kiss on the cheek,” Sarah tells him. And I flush at the knowledge that she shared that news with her friend as well.
“I’m not surprised that you think that an unrequited and unwanted kiss is polite.” Cadence comments.
“Was it?” I ask, taking a step closer to her and lowering my voice, the mood suddenly changing.
“Was it what?” She tries to back away but I follow her.
“Unwanted?” I whisper by her ear. The return of that orange blossom scent is making me dizzy.
The pause is felt by everyone and is only broken when the bell signaling the end of intermission rings.
“Fuck!” Jez grabs my hand and pulls me back to the door, “We’re gonna be fucking late!”
I wave him off and he shakes his head and run off, leaving me behind.
I need my answer.
“Cadence? Was it unwanted?” I press her for an answer.
I reach out for her, the uncertainty making me feel weak. I want to touch her, to know that this woman and what I’m feeling are something real.
The back of my hand skims her cheek. It’s warm. She says nothing.
“Cadence. We better go.” Sarah speaks up, forgotten by both of us.
The bell dings again and I can’t ignore it.
I tear myself away and run down the alley, and just as I wrench the door open to run inside, I think I hear a whisper.
A whisper that tells me, “No, no, it wasn’t.”
CADENCE
“What. The Fuck. Just Happened?” Sarah asks me when we’re back in our seats waiting for the second set to start.
“I don’t...I don’t know.”
“What happened between you two at the store?” She presses on.
“Nothing.”
“Come on, the way you two were talking and touching...it can’t have been nothing.”
“I’m telling you, it was nothing. We were there for about two minutes, and then he stole the rosin, kissed my cheek and ran off.”
“You seemed like...like...old lovers or something.”
“Oh, shush.” I brush away her words.
“Honey...” She touches my arm and I turn to face her. “I’m serious. He has it bad for you. And, you’ve definitely got...something for him.” She chooses her words carefully.
“Yeah. In the eight years you’ve known me...have I ever given you any reason to think of me as a person who would have it bad for someone?”
“No. Until just then.” She says pointedly.
The lights go down and I’m glad. I can’t keep the act up for long, and I can’t process my thoughts wilt her haranguing me for answers I don’t have, and don’t want to share with anyone.
The second act starts like the first one, in complete darkness. It gives the audience no choice but to focus on the music. The music that deserves our complete and undivided attention.
The clearest note rings out, that one single note, enveloping my consciousness, building and building the anticipation, until I realize I haven’t taken a breath in so long. The mind races, trying to generate a melody from the one note, craving for a resolution to the question – what song are they going to play next?
And then, the stage explodes into light, and the opening strains to Ram Jam’s “Black Betty” blasts from the speakers. Four spotlights focus on the band, all four on their feet, facing each other in the middle of the stage, completely engrossed in their own instruments, but creating a sound that carries as one. Sarah and I can’t help but jump to our feet along with the 10,000 people around us, the crowd singing along to the music.
My eyes are cemented to Sebastian. His hands dancing over the cello, like he was born to create this music. His utter commitment to the performance taking a hold of my own music-obsessed mind and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with someone who so intrinsically understood that passion of mine.
My hand comes up to touch my cheek, the spot he’s touched twice now. It burns hot, as if the blood in my whole body has rushed to that spot to make a connection with him.
I can’t remember when I’ve ever felt so alive.
I know why I can’t remember.
Because I‘ve never ever felt this way.
***
“You guys have been fucking amazing! The best in the world!!! We are so bloody down with down under!!” The other cellist, Jez, shouts into the microphone as the boys take their bow.
We’re all on our feet. Bodies sweaty from dancing, spirits full and satisfied from the musical feast we’ve had. I wring my hands to stop them from reaching out to Sebastian as he moves off the stage, his eyes locking with mine for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips.
I can’t help but wonder if this is the last time I’ll ever see him. And the idea fills me with a terror that is disproportionate to the time I’ve known him. Which only makes me more afraid.
The stage is empty and the chorus starts to build. “Encore, encore, encore!” Sarah shouts at the top of her lungs along with the crowd.
I hold my breath.
Anything for more.
The yells and claps start even before I notice him come on stage.
He’s alone.
His cello in one hand he walks to the microphone.
“This is for someone. She knows who she is.”
I vaguely feel a pain in my arm that I guess is Sarah digging her nails into my biceps.
But I don’t care. He’s moved his chair right up to the edge of the stage and in front of my seat.
He runs his hand through his sweaty fringe, pushing it back from his forehead and he stares at me for a second before closing his eyes, and pulls his bow across the strings.
I don’t know what I expect but it wasn’t this.
Within seconds, I and the entire audience double over in laughter as the song emanating from his cello is the one and only Carly Jae Jepsen classic “Call Me Maybe”.
I look up at him through laughter-induced tears and he has the most camp look on his face as he sings along with the crowd “Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s my number, so call me maybe.” At one point he stops playing and mimes the phone up against his ear, using the old rotary dialing telephone and the audience erupts into even louder hysteria.
And then, without missing a step, he puts the imaginary phone down and starts to play again, this time, it’s The Police’s “Every Breath You Take”.
The way he plays it, it sounds like it was made to be a cello solo. It’s haunting and beautiful, soulful and somber. It’s perfection.
I feel my hands clasp each other and rest against my chin as I watch him. Drinking in everything about him, his movements, his facial expressions, his breaths.
I don’t want it to end.
But it does.
And the applause is louder than anything we’ve heard that night.
He stands and winks to me, pulls something from his pocket and throws it to me.
It’s the cello rosin box. I open it and take the jar of amber balm out and see it’s wrapped in a piece of paper. I unfold the paper and mouth the words written there, “See me backstage, maybe?”
I look up at the stage and he’s gone.
I guess he made it up to me after all.