The Loudest Silence (Part One)

by Olivia Janae

  He didn’t seem satisfied, not at all, and the damage was done. She swallowed hard, trying to fight back tears when Max returned to his movie, subdued and cuddling his beloved Monkeyz.

  Kate kicked herself and, despite the recent cut, practiced all the harder. If that audition became a possibility, then she was going to be ready and she was going to fucking win – for her son.

  16

  Arms still shaking from the vigorous effort of the afternoon and finger still bleeding, Kate spent the ‘L’ ride to that night’s performance stretching and cracking her knuckles. She had pushed herself a little too hard that afternoon. She needed to be smarter. She was in this for the long haul. She needed to organize her practices; she needed to take care of herself and make a plan.

  The hall was buzzing as it always was before a performance, musicians scattered around talking and fiddling with their instruments, putting off the moment when they would enter the sweaty lights of the stage to warm up.

  Kate looked around, secretly hopeful as she entered, but there was no sight of Vivian tonight. She hadn’t really expected her to be there.

  Instead, the eyes she met were Ash’s.

  Ash was dressed well that evening. Her usual concert blacks had been ironed and polished, a bow tie at her throat. She was holding a large bouquet of lilies.

  “Milady,” Ash said, and with a flourish tried to hand Kate the flowers.

  Kate took a step back, bumping into the door she had just come through. “Ash, what are you doing?”

  Ash sighed, her shoulders drooping. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was being an ass about us sleeping together and shit. I get it. I was totally in the wrong about Max. Like whoa. He’s a good kid, Katie, and I do like him. More than that, boo, I just want to, ya know, get over this fight.”

  Kate stared, flummoxed. Did Ash really just think this was a fight they were having? “This isn’t some kind of lovers’ quarrel!” She tried to step away, but Ash moved with her, her eyes round and hopeful.

  “Look, will you take the flowers, please?”

  “No, because that wouldn’t be right. And it would be weird.”

  “Kate!” Ash rubbed her face with her free hand. “Take the fuckin’ flowers.” She pushed forward again, her body imposing heavily on Kate’s personal space.

  “I’m not taking the flowers, Ash!” Kate pushed past her so she could take her cello out of its case.

  “Kate.”

  Kate gave a dry laugh as Ash followed her to the back corner where she always left her case. “I don’t understand why this is so hard. I’m saying no. I’m sorry if you don’t like that, but that’s the way it is. We don’t work.”

  Ash stared, her face hardening.

  “I’m sorry,” Kate briskly said.

  “You don’t sound sorry, like, at all.”

  Kate didn’t answer. She had a feeling the longer she went on with this the more likely it was that Ash would make a scene, so she ducked her head and started across the backstage area, aiming to speak to anyone but her.

  It was uncomfortable. She kept her distance, but she could feel Ash’s angry eyes ripping into her.

  She glanced over, wishing she would stop, and scowled.

  Ash chuckled, seeming to enjoy her discomfort, and whispered something to John, the trumpet player, who looked up with intrigue.

  The sight sent an annoyed grumble through Kate’s stomach. She could understand that Ash didn’t like her choice, she could understand that Ash was mad, but did they really need to act like teenagers about this?

  That thought made her scoff: everything about Ash had been teenage. She considered going over and saying something, reminding her that they were adults with the tools to work through this, but then thought better of it. Ash’s indignation would blow over. She would just ignore her.

  She headed out to the stage and took her seat. She sighed deeply as she shuffled through her music, looking for the first piece. This was what she got for dating in her workplace.

  The sound of tittering laughter made her look up. Ash and John had followed her out. They were studying her, lopsided grins on their faces.

  “What?” Kate finally barked when she couldn’t stand the staring anymore, succeeding only in making Ash smile more broadly. “Creepy much?” She glared and turned back to her music.

  She heard footsteps approach from behind and scowled as Ash and John planted themselves on either side of her.

  “Ash,” Kate groaned, “can you please just give me some space?”

  “So we have got to know,” she drawled slowly, “what is a crocodile like in bed? For me she was always all sharp and scaly.” Ash pretended to shudder, her mouth turning into a grimace. “But with you, I don’t know. Is it that you like scales? Is that is, Flynnie?”

  Kate’s mouth fell open. Was she kidding?

  “I dunno, I mean, I never had her in a bed. A bathroom, yeah, a locker room, backstage, but never—”

  “Stop!” Kate snapped. Her hands reached up like she wanted to plug her ears.

  “Hey, man,” John said. “That’s her girl.”

  Ash smirked.

  “I’m impressed,” he continued, a genuine smile on his face. “I mean, she’s a hard one to take. I can’t get near her without worrying about her taking my balls off.”

  Kate swiftly pulled her bow across the strings, making a hard jarring noise and her point all at once. John burst into laughter.

  “We’re just curious, Flynn. Did she bother to touch you? I mean, not calling her a pillow queen or anything but—”

  “Ash!” Kate hissed, over John’s laughter.

  Ash just shrugged, moving back to her own stool and flipping through her music, playing at innocence.

  John stood as well, still laughing heartily and clapping first Kate on the shoulder and then Ash, making the papers fly from Ash’s hand. “Don’t feel bad. Some just aren’t man enough to keep their woman.”

  Kate felt herself blanch and flush all at once. She wanted to go back off stage, or even all the way home. John was making this so much worse.

  John flashed a wink at Kate, trying to pull her in as co-conspirator in the teasing, but Kate wanted nothing to do with it.

  She just shook her head.

  Ash jerked away from John, not at all amused by his razzing, and spat a few choice names at him.

  “Whoa, whoa, I’m just kidding, sister! I’m sorry! Hey, I was kidding. I didn’t mean it at all. Really. It’s not on you, man. Either of you, actually. The heart wants whatever stupid thing it wants. My bad.”

  Ash threw a few more impolite words at him before, returning a few of his own, John departed for the brass section, clearly angry.

  Ash mumbled to herself, seething as she gathered her flyaway papers. Kate leaned forward to pick the one in front of her up, planning to apologize and explain yet again that Ash needed to let this go.

  Her fingers had just brushed the paper when Ash shoved past her to get it herself. She pushed forward with a glare, bumping vengefully into Kate’s side – hard.

  Kate gasped, watching helplessly as her exhausted arms gave a jerk, losing their grip on her cello. The smooth body of her beloved instrument flew from her hands, giving a half spin before diving face first with a sickening, splintering crash to the stage floor.

  The entire room, stage, and audience let out a horrified gasp, hands flying to their mouths, musicians protectively grasping their own instruments as the hall fell silent. The sharp twang of the abused strings was the only noise as the cello rocked on its face for a moment and then stilled.

  Kate had frozen the moment she felt the instrument slip from her fingers. Now she closed her eyes against the sight, a strange, strangled panic making her insides quake as she bit back the hysterics that had come. She was sure she had heard a crack.

  In the world of classical music, instruments were worshipped, not only because each was decidedly expensive, but also because they were decidedly sentimental. There was no worse deed amongs
t her peers than damaging an instrument. To them, Ash had just sinned. In church.

  Kate squeezed her eyes tighter against the images that clouded her mind. She pushed her fists into her eyes, trying to fight the panic, trying to gather the courage needed to look at her cello, to examine the damage. She didn’t think she could look at it.

  She had bought that cello when she was nineteen years old. It was her companion. It was her best friend. On top of that, she was still paying off the thirty-five-thousand-dollar loan that she had borrowed from the bank to purchase it, not to mention the twelve-thousand-dollar loan for her bow. If her cello was damaged beyond repair, then there was nothing that she could do. She couldn’t get another loan, not while the first was yet to be fulfilled.

  She could see it all in her mind, trying to find a way to afford a new instrument before she even turned the cello over. She would lose her job; she would lose her apartment. She wasn’t qualified to do anything else. This was her career, this was her passion.

  She would be destitute.

  “Kate,” Ash breathed, aghast.

  Her voice broke the stillness. Kate dropped to her knees, turning over the lifeless body of her cello. She groaned deep and low in her chest. The bridge, the small piece of wood that held the strings away from the body of her cello, was lying alone on the floor beside the scene of the accident, and a large crack with a small hole gaped at her from her cello’s face.

  “Oh god,” she groaned again, touching the jagged edges of wood. She was sure this was it, that in one moment she had gone from employed to unemployed.

  The stage exploded then, people rushing at Ash, shoving her and yelling in whispered stage voices. John stood in the front of the line with Ash’s shirt bunched in his fist, holding her in place.

  Ash didn’t fight them; her brow furrowed as if she were somehow as shocked as the rest of them.

  Stagehands and the venue manager came on stage, pulling John and Ash apart, hissing about the fact that there were still people in the hall watching them.

  Kate felt herself break into rough sobs.

  Her cello was broken. She knew of no repairman in this city that was worth his salt, and even if she did, her bank account was still drained from her move. How much would the WCCE insurance cover? Even if they covered everything, some holes and cracks could never be repaired. Sometimes repairing a crack changed the sound of the instrument and, therefore, its ability to be played correctly. She fumbled over these thoughts again and again, creating disasters, convincing herself that the hole would be too large to fix.

  “Is it playable?” Mary leaned over her, resting a soft hand on her back, but Kate could tell from Mary’s tone that she knew it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t – part of it was still lying on the ground. “Come on, Kate.” She pulled Kate up and began to pull the two of them, Kate and her broken cello, backstage.

  Kate could feel everyone’s eyes on her, the audience and her colleagues alike, as they moved, musicians parting for them as though Kate’s bad luck was catching. It made her glare at them, hating them for the fact that this night hadn’t changed everything for them.

  As soon as they were out of the stage lights, Kate’s tears turned into full-blown weeping. She hated it; she hated crying in front of other people. She hated the way that Mary gently rubbed her back, watching Kate as she cried. Mary wrapped her arms around her in a stiff and awkward hug.

  Kate tried to calm herself, tried to think logically, to stop making more of a scene by being so emotional.

  Mary gave her a few minutes and then, with the authoritative tone of the personnel manager, she held her at arm’s length. “I’m sorry, I want this to not be true, but the show is supposed to start any second.” Kate numbly nodded as Mary told her of a freelancer in the audience whose cello was downstairs. “It’s in locker twelve. I’ll send someone out to ask him, but it will be fine. He’s a nice guy. Go down and get it please.”

  Again Kate just nodded, not surprised that someone attending would lock up their large instrument below the stage before taking their seat.

  “The show must go on,” Mary sighed.

  Kate just stared back, horrified by her callous choice of words.

  Mary’s face went pink as she realized and then gave a nod, turning back toward the stage.

  Distantly Kate heard an announcement to the hall, promising the show would start soon. She couldn’t focus on it. She started down the stairs to get the stranger’s cello.

  Would they fire her? She couldn’t stop wondering if she was out of a job now. Was it ethical to fire someone when their cello was broken?

  She wasn’t sure if she was thinking clearly.

  She unlocked the locker and pulled out the case, a flash of fury washing over her.

  Ash had done this.

  “Damn it!” she cried, kicking the locker.

  She didn’t have time to think about this now.

  She took few minutes to gather herself before she started back upstairs.

  She wished people would stop sending her furtive glances as if they were worried she would shatter. The more looks she got the more her panic turned, churning into hot anger. That didn’t help anything right now. She could feel Ash behind her, feel how she wanted to reach out and apologize. She internally begged her not to; she wasn’t sure how professional she could be.

  She couldn’t stop all of the nasty thoughts. She had kissed her, she had dated her; maybe it hadn’t been perfect, but she had still let her in. How could she do this? Had she cared so little for her? Had she cared so little for Max? That thought made her scoff; Ash had clearly never cared about Max.

  The new cello was fine, but she didn’t like it. It felt slightly wrong, like driving someone else’s car into a new city. Even when she tuned the cello, it never settled into that sweet spot. The strings were a different brand than she used, and the notes sounded dull and thin to her.

  She tried to click into the right gear, but she felt as though she was fighting the cello the whole concert. Kate played terribly, which only intensified her mortification. Her mistakes weren’t because of the foreign instrument – she just couldn’t focus. She knew no one would blame her, but she couldn’t help blushing scarlet and avoiding all eye contact as they took their bows. The audience seemed to understand and gave her a round of applause that only made her feel worse. She rushed off stage as soon as possible.

  She handed Mary the borrowed cello with a small nod of thanks and returned to her own, which lay broken on the table. Kate didn’t want to, but she began to cry again, this time tears of fury. There was a hole in her cello.

  Slowly she packed it up, taking an unusual amount of care, as though that would help. She absurdly wished she could cradle it to herself and soothe its pain as she would with Max. People were whispering behind her, and it pulled on her nerves. She just wanted to go home and get away from all the people watching her.

  “Hey, guys,” Mary called from the stage just as her hand closed on the handle of the stage door. “I need all of you to stick around for a few minutes. A few members of the board are on their way down. I know, I know, it’s late. We will try to get you out of here quickly.”

  Kate instantly felt just a bit lighter. Vivian would be one of those to come, she knew it, and Vivian was exactly who she wanted to see just then. Even the thought of her soothed some of the burning ache in her chest. She began to crave her, the comfort she knew she could find in her so-called crocodile. The yearning made her feel pathetic, and yet she was able to take what felt like her first deep breath since her cello had fallen.

  The small group of people gathered on the stage, instruments packed, all wearing expressions that read furious and terrified all at once. No one was speaking to Ash. She took a seat in the middle of the group, her face a queasy green, and Kate, needing to be as far from her as possible, sat on the very corner edge, her back to everyone. She could hear the mumblings around her, gossiping and whispering about what had taken place, but no one spoke direc
tly to her.

  She was glad.

  Soon, she heard the telltale clicking of heels coming through the stage door.

  Vivian was purple, her lips pressed into a thin line, the professional mask twitching in place. She looked like she was going to fry someone up and eat them for dinner. Even Charlie, who rarely emoted at work, stalked in behind her looking violent, her eyes wide.

  The sight of the board members silenced the orchestra; children in the presence of the school’s furious principals.

  Vivian’s eyes found Kate, and for a moment her footfalls stuttered, shock crossing her face. Kate looked back down, embarrassed as she wiped her eyes, knowing she probably looked like a mess. She couldn’t help it; her eyes burned, and her throat ached so much that she couldn’t keep the tears in.

  While Vivian headed to the front of the group, Charlie came to Kate’s side, wrapping her arms around her neck, leaning against her back in wordless support for a moment before stepping into her role as Vivian’s ears.

  Hands on her hips, her lip curling into an evil grin, Vivian bellowed, “What the hell happened?”

  Silence met her question.

  “What the hell happened?” Vivian roared. “Someone! Anyone! If ever there was a time to remain silent, this is not it! I have an entire audience that can tell me what happened… Speak!”

  Kate opened her mouth, the only one in the group not intimidated, but Ash cut her off. “I bumped into Kate, her cello fell, and it broke.”

  Kate whipped around. She knew she was going to lose it now, she knew she was going to scream, but the people around her jumped in first, doing it for her. A cacophony of “It was on purpose!” and “You’re making it sound like an accident, asshole!” surrounded her, everyone offended on her behalf.

  Vivian held up her hand, demanding silence. “Are we children in the schoolyard? One at a time!”

  Kate sat in her seat, watching Vivian’s cold face and longing for the mask to fall away for just a moment. That only annoyed her more. She didn’t like how much she just wanted a hug or some kind words; her neediness alarmed and worried her.