by Lucy Connell
‘After you, Nina,’ Caroline says, holding open the door to the drama wing. I follow her down a corridor and she stops at a door on our right. ‘Are you ready?’
‘I have no idea,’ I answer honestly. ‘I don’t know what I should be ready for.’
‘Make sure your phone is on silent.’
She opens the door to a large rehearsal room with a back wall of mirrors and some chairs placed at the front. A group of drama students dressed in black leggings and T-shirts are milling around, chatting. A few of them look up when we walk in but then turn back to their conversations. Sitting on one of the chairs is a man in his forties reading a dog-eared and heavily highlighted book. He glances up as Caroline approaches and a smile spreads across his face. He stands to greet her and I notice that, like his students, he’s not wearing any shoes.
‘Thank you for letting us sit in,’ Caroline says, giving him a kiss on both cheeks. ‘It’s very good of you.’
‘Always a pleasure,’ the man says, looking over her shoulder to smile at me. ‘This is her?’
‘Nina, this is Sam. He’s a movement teacher here.’
He reaches out to take my hand in a firm handshake. I keep my eyes fixed on the ground, terrified that he’s going to ask me to join in with his class. At times like this, I’d rather be invisible.
‘Nice to meet you, Nina. Ah yes,’ he says, sharing a knowing look with Caroline. ‘I see what you mean.’
She nods. ‘I told you.’
‘Have a seat, Nina,’ Sam says, gesturing to one of the chairs. ‘We’re just about to start.’
I sit down. Caroline takes off her coat and sits next to me, as Sam steps to the front of the class and claps his hands. Immediately, the students stop talking and move to stand in their own spaces across the room facing him.
‘Caroline,’ I whisper, leaning towards her, ‘what’s going on? Why are we here?’
‘I only want you to watch,’ she says, her eyes scanning the students. ‘That’s all. You might find yourself learning something. Sam is a superb teacher.’
‘But these are drama students. They’re learning acting,’ I say as quietly as possible while Sam calls out for everyone to take a deep breath. ‘This stuff has nothing to do with playing the piano.’
Caroline slowly turns to look me straight in the eye.
‘Do you think so?’
She turns her attention back to the class, so I assume that she’s not expecting an answer to her question.
‘I heard you all practising your monologues in drama class earlier,’ Sam announces. ‘Wonderful. The words were spoken beautifully. But I can tell you this: the hardest bit about your performance won’t be speaking the monologues. It will be the walk from the wings on to the stage and into your current position, facing the audience. So, with that in mind, think about how you are standing right now. Are you standing alive?’
What is he talking about? Of course, they’re alive! I glance at Caroline. She’s nodding softly, like she agrees with him. Like he’s asked a question that makes sense. Maybe I didn’t hear him right.
‘Become aware of how you are standing,’ he continues.
The students start shifting slightly: some are rolling their shoulders back, others are stretching their hands out and wriggling their fingers. All of them have become taller.
‘Beautiful,’ Sam declares. ‘This is all we will be doing in today’s class. Standing.’
I look at Sam’s back as though he’s mad and he must catch the reflection of my expression in the mirrors because he stops to look over his shoulder.
‘Yes, just standing,’ he says directly to me before turning back to the class. ‘We need to get you used to simply standing in the space.’
As he takes a walk about the room to inspect everyone’s standing position, Caroline takes the chance to whisper to me.
‘You look confused.’
‘It’s just … I thought you said he was the movement teacher.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘But … isn’t standing still the opposite of movement?’
‘Look at his students,’ she says, nodding at them. ‘Do you think you could stand like they are doing now? If I asked you to get up and stand like that, this very moment?’
I take in the girl in front of me. She’s standing with her shoulders back, her chin high, staring straight at the wall behind me. She looks so open. She knows I’m sitting right here watching her, but that’s not affecting her at all.
‘No,’ I whisper back. ‘I couldn’t do that.’
She looks satisfied with my answer. ‘Sam is teaching his students to learn how to be in the space, before he develops their movement. That is what I want you to practise. Nina, your homework for this week is to stand.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I want you to stand,’ she repeats, her eyes locked on Sam as he makes his way around the classroom. ‘I look forward to seeing how you’ve progressed next Saturday morning.’
‘What?’ Chase asks, almost spitting out his sip of hot chocolate. ‘Your homework is to stand? Like … just stand still?’
‘Yep. And it’s harder than you think. I tried it right before I met you. I stood in the middle of my room and I felt weird straight away. Like really aware of how I was standing and then I felt stupid and had to sit down or do something.’
‘Wow,’ he says, putting his cup down. ‘That’s weird.’
I nod in agreement, doing another quick glance around the cafe to make sure no one is watching us and no phones are pointing in our direction. We picked a table in the corner on purpose and so far no one seems to have noticed us.
Ever since that photographer got a photo of me waiting for Chase outside Guildhall on my first day, I’ve been completely paranoid that there might be more of them lurking around the school, hoping to get a picture of us. We decided to go to a small cafe that Chase had found down a road a bit out of the way, somewhere no one would expect to find a pop star. I was really happy when Chase messaged asking if we could meet between my morning lesson and afternoon group practice, but I’ve felt constantly on edge that someone might spot us. The last thing I needed was Jordan walking in and seeing us together again.
‘It’s nice to spend time with you,’ Chase says, his smile accentuating his cheekbones. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘Same. I miss not talking every night.’
It comes out a little more pointed than I intend and I can tell from his pained expression that I’ve ruined the moment. But it’s also true. Since we started dating, even when we had to keep it secret from everyone, we spoke almost every day. This past week, he’s taken much longer than usual to reply to my messages, and then he’s been either too tired in the evenings to be able to chat much, or out at some kind of music event so unable to talk.
‘Nina, you were right last week. I haven’t been completely honest with you,’ he says suddenly. ‘I want to tell you something. I should have told you a while ago, but I wanted to make sure it was the right time.’
He leans forward, his gentle blue eyes meeting mine. My breath catches in my throat and my heart does a weird fluttery thing, because maybe this is the moment. Maybe he’s about to say it.
The L-word.
‘Nina,’ he begins, a smile creeping across his lips, ‘I think I’m going to go solo.’
The warm fuzzy feeling vanishes. My eyes instantly fill with tears, my heart thudding so loudly against my chest that it feels like everyone in the cafe can hear it.
‘You’re … you’re breaking up with me?’
‘What?’ He looks horrified. ‘NO! Why would you think that? Nina, I don’t mean solo from you! I mean, solo from the band!’
‘Oh!’
I’m so relieved that I lean back in my chair and press a hand on my heart, taking a minute to let his words sink in and blinking back the tears.
‘I can’t believe you thought I was breaking up with you,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘And also, I’m going to tell you now, th
at if anyone breaks up with you using the words “I’m going solo” then you should NOT be with that person in the first place, because they are an absolute idiot.’
I laugh, my heart rate gradually slowing down, and he reaches over to take my hands in his. I don’t know how his hands are always warm and mine are always freezing.
‘Wait, so, Chasing Chords is breaking up?’ I ask, as he shifts his chair to be closer to me.
‘No, they don’t know anything,’ he explains, his forehead furrowed. ‘I haven’t said anything to anyone. It was Uncle Mark’s idea and the more he talked about it, the more it kind of made sense. I’ve always said how the Chasing Chords music is great, but it’s not exactly my style –’ he pauses, to push my hair behind my ear – ‘I remember telling you that the first night we met. I spilled my guts out to you, a complete stranger.’
‘I thought Mark was the one against you ever going solo from Chasing Chords, considering he’s the band’s manager,’ I point out, trying not to get distracted by his fingers brushing my cheek and instead stay focused on this HUGE piece of news he’s just told me out of the blue. ‘You were terrified of telling him about wanting to do your own stuff. You said he’d never understand.’
‘That was before our little New Year’s Eve acoustic concert in Norwich.’
‘But you didn’t tell him about it for that reason,’ I say, confused. ‘Nancy had to organize the whole thing without him catching on.’
‘And then it went viral and suddenly there was this huge interest in me as a solo singer-songwriter,’ Chase explains, before adding with a sly smile, ‘Mark is a businessman, remember?’
‘You’ve had interest from your record label?’
‘And others. That’s why I’ve been so busy. As soon as that video went global, Uncle Mark says he got a lot of producers asking to work with me on a solo album and calls from some labels wondering if I’d consider signing with them or whether I would be sticking to the Chasing Chords’ one. He told them I was open-minded about the whole thing.’
‘Did he ask you first?’
‘No, he didn’t have to,’ he says with a shrug. ‘He’s always known that I’ve never been entirely happy with the Chasing Chords sound and that the band’s fame took me by surprise. I think he’s been afraid of that for a while, but now it might work to his advantage. A new record deal and a whole new career path.’
‘Chase,’ I say, realizing I’m so taken aback by the news that I haven’t actually congratulated him yet. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Thanks, Nina. I’m just sorry I’ve been out of it for a bit. We had all these meetings and then Uncle Mark made me go to a load of music events for “networking opportunities”.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Anyway, those parties made calling you a little bit more difficult and by the time I got home you’d be asleep.’
‘So, have you had a formal offer? Is it definitely happening?’
‘It’s mostly only meetings at the moment.’ He runs a hand through his hair. ‘I’ve found it all really stressful. Exciting, but stressful. My main concern is the band. If I do sign to a label as a solo artist, what am I going to tell them?’
‘They’ll understand,’ I say gently. ‘They’re your biggest fans. And everyone knows you write all the songs. Miles went to that acoustic concert in Norwich; he must know that you’d eventually go solo.’
He nods. ‘Yeah, but it still feels like I’m betraying them somehow. Going behind their backs. Miles is a good songwriter, too. He’s helped me out on a few of the tracks.’
‘Don’t go behind their backs, then,’ I suggest. ‘You could tell them what’s going on. It will give them a bit of time to get used to the idea before anything becomes official.’
‘I can’t just sit them down and say, “Guys, I’m shopping around for a solo album.” They’d think I was leaving them and the next thing you know, it’ll be all over the news that Chasing Chords is splitting up.’ He closes his eyes before he goes on. ‘I’m not ready for that. I don’t want to leave the band behind yet. They’re my best friends. I want to do my own thing, but I’m also not done with Chasing Chords. It’s greedy, isn’t it?’
‘It’s understandable,’ I say, placing a comforting hand on his arm. ‘You can do both.’
‘Maybe. That’s why I want to sign to a label as a solo artist before I tell the rest of the band. That way, I’ll have all the answers ready for their questions. I can assure them that the label I have signed to, whether it’s our existing one or a new one, knows that I have a responsibility to the band, too, and is happy to make sure both careers can work around each other. Uncle Mark has promised me that he’ll get it all in writing.’
‘Then you don’t have to worry. Everything will be fine.’
He smiles at me. ‘Thanks, Nina. I should have told you sooner. It was so overwhelming and I wasn’t sure at first that anything would come of it. But things have started getting serious.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m so, so proud of you.’
‘I know I don’t need to say this,’ he begins apologetically, ‘but please don’t say a word to anyone. It’s still early days and if anybody found out before the guys –’
‘You really don’t need to say this. Your secret is safe with me.’
He smiles so broadly at me that his dimples become even more pronounced, which makes me break into a wide grin. His hands gently cup my face and he leans in to kiss me.
‘I’m so lucky to have you,’ he says in a serious voice, as he pulls away.
‘Likewise,’ I say dreamily, in a bit of a daze from the kiss. You’d think I’d get used to it.
He laughs softly. ‘Maybe when I go solo, you can be my personal pianist and we can tour together. I promise I won’t make you practise just standing.’
Chase’s Guildhall joke suddenly jolts me out of my trance.
‘Oh my god, what’s the time?’ I ask frantically, reaching for my phone. I’ve been so caught up in our conversation that I haven’t been keeping an eye on the time. I look at my screen and I feel sick. I have three minutes to get to our group rehearsal for the end-of-term showcase. I won’t make it in time. ‘I’m going to be late!’
I stand up so fast that I send my chair flying backwards. I grab my bag and coat, and race towards the door.
‘They won’t mind. You lost track of time; it happens,’ Chase says, following me out as I rudely push past someone coming into the cafe. ‘Just say you were with me.’
‘That will make things a hundred times worse.’
Chase looks at me strangely. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t have time to explain right now. Look, I have to go. I’ll –’
I stop mid-sentence as I notice someone down the road looking straight at us. Chase turns to look behind him, following my gaze.
‘What? What is it?’ he asks, turning back to me.
I blink to make my vision clearer. The person has disappeared round the corner. It must have been a trick of the light. It could have been anyone.
It can’t have been him.
‘Nina?’ Chase looks concerned. ‘What is it? You’re freaking me out. You’ve gone really pale.’
‘Nothing,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘I thought I saw someone, but it wasn’t them.’
‘Who did you think you saw?’
‘Never mind.’ I collect myself and stand on my tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. ‘I have to go. I’ll call tonight on my way home to Norwich,’ I say, before rushing down the street towards the music building.
‘I have something on tonight,’ he calls out after me.
I don’t have time to stop to reply. When I get to Guildhall, I’m drenched with sweat from running. I stop at the door to the orchestra room and catch my breath, listening out for a good moment to walk in and creep to my piano at the back. Maybe, I think as I wipe my forehead and peer through the little window in the door, maybe they haven’t noticed I’ve been missing.
If I was Piano One, they definitely would have noticed, but, considerin
g my part is hardly important, there is a small chance that I can sneak in without it making any difference.
I wait until the conductor has his back to the door and is practising with the first violins and then I creep in, tiptoeing around the orchestra and sliding on to my piano stool. Jordan looks unbearably smug, but I think I’ve got away with it.
I’m wrong.
‘Thank you for joining us, Nina,’ a voice rings out as the violins finish their section.
Caroline is in the session and has been sitting in the corner. She stands up to address me, making the whole orchestra spin in their seats to watch my reaction.
‘You’re seven minutes late,’ she states. ‘Do you not take these rehearsals seriously?’
‘Of course,’ I say timidly, wishing everyone would stop staring.
‘And is everyone’s time not as important as yours?’
‘No! I mean, yes! I mean …’ I pause, my brain blurry as I try to work out the best thing to say. ‘I lost track of time.’
‘I see. Did you have somewhere better to be?’
‘According to Twitter, she did,’ Jordan announces, holding up his phone.
There’s a picture of Chase and me kissing in the cafe, taken through the window. Someone must have seen us from the street and taken it without us noticing.
Everyone starts giggling as I try as hard as possible not to cry in front of them.
‘Thank you, Jordan, but I don’t remember asking your or Twitter’s opinion on the matter,’ Caroline says sharply.
Jordan’s face drops and he quickly shoves his phone into his pocket. The room falls silent again and Caroline turns her attention back to me.
‘You might want to take a moment to think about how many people wanted to get on this course and didn’t, because we gave that place to you,’ she says. ‘Don’t be late again.’
I nod, too afraid to speak. She moves to sit down and the conductor clears his throat, before telling everyone to take it again from the top. Now that they are all focused on their music and facing the other way, I am free to silently cry behind them, shielded by my music propped up on the piano.
