by Daisy Allen
But tonight, isn’t about hiding.
“Hey, Seb?”
“What?”
“You mind if I take the lead in the opening tonight?”
His face doesn’t move, he just asks, “You sure?”
“Now or never.”
He grins, and reaches over and slaps me on the shoulder.
“It’s all yours, Willy Whacker.”
“Thanks, Fuck Ferret.”
“That’s a new one! I like it.”
“Thought you would, I’ve been saving it just for you.”
There’s a knock on the door. We file out of the room and it’s a rare moment of seriousness.
It’s been a long time and I know I’m not the only one wondering what the reception will be like. We only know that we’re lucky to have had the success we’ve enjoyed until now. Nothing is a given. And nothing is to be taken for granted.
As we walk through the underground path up to the stage wings, the roars from the crowd grow.
“Rock Chamber Boys! Rock Chamber Boys!”
Sebastian turns around and gives me a grin.
Marius slaps me on the back from behind.
Our footsteps quicken and before I know it, we’re practically sprinting to the end of the hallway that will lead up to our fate.
“FUCKKKKKKK YEAHHHHHHHHHH!” I scream as I take those last few steps, clearing out the last of any cobwebs that have lingered after my forced hiatus.
My head is crystal clear.
And I know what I wasn’t sure of until this very moment – I am ready.
We climb up the stairs and are led through to the dark backstage area, then stand in the wings waiting for our cue. There’s no point in talking, the screams and shouts from the waiting crowd drown out all other noise.
I’m jumping from leg to leg.
“GO!” Our stage manager yells and pushes us out from behind the wings.
It’s completely pitch dark. Tiny little LED lights on the stage that only we can see tell us where to stand.
I locate my cello and bow by feel. Pressing my ear close to the strings, giving the tuning one last check, I feel my hands shake again. But I know, it’s not because of the injury.
It’s because of the adrenalin.
It’s back.
I’ve missed it.
The sound from the audience grows in volume and passion. I’ve missed them too. Even though it’s dark, I close my eyes and try to visualize the space around me, the people, friends and strangers, and the music.
But all I can see is her face. We’re in Paris tonight. We talked about where our first concert should be, and this is the only place that felt right. And it would be perfect, if only she were out there.
I feel the guys settle down around me.
It’s time.
There’s a bright flash of light, our signature signal that the show is about to start. The crowd screams and then goes silent. I count us down, under my breath. And pull my bow.
The single note rings true and clear, growing stronger and stronger, as an ambient white light glows, bright and brighter, bathing us all.
I wanted it this way.
We’re known for our concerts’ light shows, as intricate and as complex as the music. But tonight, we wanted to make it clear that we are back, and for the next hour, we’re all in this together. No spotlight trickery, no dancing disco ball scattered light to start off with. Just us and them, together in a room, enjoying music.
I pull until there’s no more length on my bow, and I look around the giant venue. And I can see everyone’s faces, smiling back at me.
And then I play.
It’s an original, one we wrote for this very night. Starting out simple, melodic, almost dark and shadowy in its tones, abstract. Like Debussy telling stories of his heartbreak.
It’s just me.
My fingers slow and deliberate over the fingerplate as my bow draws each note from the strings. They’re fluid and flexible, almost back to their old state. My wrist still aches a little and it’s probable that it always will.
But it doesn’t stop me.
It doesn’t stop me telling my story.
The song builds, and in the corners of my eyes I see my bandmates start to move. Right on cue, the song dives into the chorus, and Sebastian and Marius and Brad join me. Like musical pillars building from the ground, taking my melody higher and higher, supporting from above, beside, and behind me. My forehead is already slick with sweat and I flick my head back, to get it out of my eyes.
The chorus is a frenzy of sound.
The images playing out in my mind of the chaos of the hospital, of the rehab, the recovery. It’s an arrangement of the song Noémie wrote for me. Pour Jeremy. My story in song.
They have to know.
I want then all to know what tonight is about. I give Sebastian a quick tilt of my head and he knows. He immediately takes over my part as I reach for the microphone in front of me.
“This one’s for you, Noémie.” I say, “Wherever you are in the world, right now. I hope you know, every note I play tonight, is for you.”
There’s a loud collective cheer from the crowd, and it makes my heart swell. I pick up my bow, and position it, waiting for the right break in the music. I jump in, and Sebastian falls back, reclaiming his harmony line, Brad’s violin, weaving in and out over us.
I lose myself in it all.
Letting the music carry me that last few steps in my recovery. And even though she may never hear it, every time I play it, I’ll remember her. I love you, Noémie. Always know, there’s someone out there who loves you.
Suddenly, the venue falls completely dark. All the microphones and audio from our instruments shut off. There’s a gasp from the crowd as they go quiet.
“What the fuck?” I whisper to Seb.
“I don’t know. Can you see you anything?”
“Yeah, a great big lot of black, idiot.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” I hear Marius ask from my right.
“We know about as much as you do.”
“Well, don’t move, let the crew take care of it.”
“Fucking hell.”
“Relax.” Marius says, in his hippie way that actually helps sometimes.
Now is not one of those times.
I hear footsteps running past me, and I imagine it’s the crew trying to fix whatever’s happened.
“Just hang on, guys. We’re on it.” Hank, our assistant, whispers to us, and then he’s off again.
I put my bow on the ground and run my fingers through my hair, I’m sweating all over.
My body is so full of adrenaline it’s excruciating to have to just sit here, with no outer stimulation. Something about the darkness makes me crawl inside my own brain, hide there. Images I don’t want to be seeing are projecting in front of my eyes like slides. Of Noémie, over and over. The first time we met, when I saw her at the hospital the first time, our first kiss, when she held me as I broke down in the bath tub, the look on her face as we ran down to the aisle to get married, when she told me I hadn’t trusted her, hadn’t fought for her. When she’d told me to forget her.
And it occurs to me, this doesn’t mean anything without her here. Without her, I probably wouldn’t even be here.
There’s not a chance I’m moving on. I’ve got to go find her.
And I’ve got to make her realize, she’s meant to be with me.
“Seb,” I whisper into the dark, “I gotta go!”
“Stop joking around! They’ll have the lights on in a minute.”
“No! I’m serious, I’ve gotta go! I’ve gotta go find her. NOW! I can’t believe I’ve left it this long.”
He sighs, and I can feel him move around in the dark, looking for my arm. Once he does, he squeezes it. “Buddy, she’s… look, let’s just get through the concert alright? Then… then I’ll help you with whatever you need.”
“But I need to go, now!” The urgency builds every second I spend thinking about how s
tupid I have been to let so much time pass.
“Jez… one more night isn’t going to make a difference, okay? Soon as it’s over, we’re out of here. But please, stay, for us.” His voice is desperate, I’ve rarely heard something sound so important to him before.
I want to leave, I want to leave so much my skin is crawling, disobeying me, wanting to escape, cell by cell. But I know I owe it to my boys. Tonight, is about them, not me.
I sigh. “Would you forgive me if I couldn’t stay?” There’s a pause, and a sigh.
“We’re brothers. Always and forever.”
I reach out, and my hand finds his shoulder and I hug him. My chest filling with love for my best friend.
“I’ll finish this song, okay? Then I’ll find some way to go, without making too much of a fuss.”
“You’re on. I hope you get her, man. I really hope you do. So, look, we might as well decide what we’re going to do when they get it up and going again.”
“Marius, Brad can you hear us?”
“Yeah. Jez, can you take it from the chorus?” Marius suggests.
“Yeah, good. How ‘bout from… da da da da da.” I sing.
“From where?”
“From da da da da da…” I repeat, singing the bridge from Noémie’s composition.
“No, I think I’ll take it right from the top,” says a voice I don’t expect.
A voice I never thought I’d hear again.
And as if on cue, a spotlight appears right on stage, right beside me.
It grows from a small circle, bigger and bigger, until it lights up her whole body.
Noémie .
She’s here and holding a ukulele. Smiling at me.
She gives me a wink and starts to strum her ukulele.
It’s my song.
I’d never heard her play it before. Our interpretation was just that, ours.
But hers… is perfection.
Her fingers press down, making the notes as she grins at me. And then she starts to sing.
And it takes my breath away.
But now’s not the time to asphyxiate. I pick up my cello and she watches me, still playing, the crowd confused but slowly gaining in sound, getting into the performance. I lift my bow, perpendicular to the strings and I pull. And we’re in it together.
I never take my eyes off hers, as our instruments dance to the end of the song.
Her gentle strumming, note by note, against the deep, resonant tone of my cello.
We end at the same time. And there’s silence.
I drop my bow onto the ground as she lets her arm fall, her ukulele clattering to the stage floor.
“I was… I was coming to find you,” I tell her, though it all sounds redundant.
“I know. I heard,” she smiles.
“What are you doing here?”
“I had something to return to you,” she says, nodding toward the stage wings.
Someone comes running out and hands her a jacket.
Oh my god.
She holds it out to me. “I think this is yours. Actually, I know it is.”
It’s my jacket, the leather jacket I’d given her that night to keep warm.
I’d forgotten about that. But she remembers.
“You know?”
“Yes. I know. I know it all. I remember it all, Jez.”
I reach out, like a zombie, taking the jacket from her, as a million thoughts flood my brain, none of them making traction.
All I can think is, she’s here.
“I know that you saved my phone from a urinary death. I know that you saved me from being stomped on by a thousand drunken bar goers. I know you are a cake thief. I know you know why I love the word Autumn. I know I didn’t tell you where I work and you must’ve cared enough to find out to come looking for me. I know that more than anything, I wanted you to kiss me that night. I know that I was wrong to push you away. But if I hadn’t, I might not know what I know now.”
“And what is that?” I hold my breath, in case I accidentally exhale too hard and blow this whisper of a dream away.
“That nobody knows me like you know me. And nobody ever will.” Why is she smiling like that? So big and bright, it’s making it hard for me to think.
I fidget with the jacket. I might’ve been ready to run out of here to find her, but I knew I had some time to think about what I wanted to say. Right now, it’s all still a jumble of thoughts. Everything but that one thought. That three-word phrase.
“And what about how I feel about you? What do you know about that?”
“That that is something you need to tell me, Jez. Right here, right now. Not in writing, not in song. Just to me, face to face.”
I turn around, taking in everything around me.
My three best friends, grinning so hard I’m afraid their faces might split clear in two. The fucking bastards. They knew. They knew this was going to happen all along.
I look out into the cheering, shouting, stomping crowd, who has no idea what’s going on, just that they’re glad to be a part of it.
And her.
The only one who I would’ve given it all up for.
Who never asked for anything but that I trust and believe her.
Who never gave me anything but the best of her.
I reach out for her hand, and she gives it to me. I squeeze it, and I see a flicker of surprise on her face. It’s the first time I’ve held her hand, without feeling some pain.
Anywhere, not just in my hand.
“Emmie, ask me again,” I finally say.
“Ask you what?”
“To tell you something about me nobody knows.”
She smiles and moves closer to me, leaning in, her mouth against my ear, her hand coming up to shelter the soundwaves from rippling away before I can hear them.
“Jez, tell me something about yourself that nobody else knows.”
She moves to pull away but I grab her arms and pull her hard against me, my hand coming to brace against her back, the other hand tangling in her hair.
She’s burning hot against me, her legs in between mine.
Her face glistens from the spotlight refracting[R6] off the perspiration.
Like a halo.
My angel.
“I love you. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. And the only person I will ever love. You’re my all.”
And then I kiss her.
Like I’ve always wanted to kiss her.
Like she’s always wanted to be kissed.
With a ten thousand strong crowd cheering us on, and a string trio playing in the background.
EPILOGUE
It’s hard to finish the concert after all the excitement, but we get through it, and it’s pretty clear that it’s my best concert to date. Aching wrist and slightly stiff fingers and all.
We’d pulled out the big guns since it was our first public performance for 8 months with guest performances, the most popular being by Anca and Cadence. And of course, it all ended an encore that had the four of us guys and the two of them, and the last-minute addition of Noémie, that almost blew the roof off.
We stand there, as the last of the notes of the song, grinning at each other, the seven of us on stage like we were always meant to end up together like this, a musical tour de force, joined by the simple and pure love for music.
The lights shut off for the second time that night, this time I’m prepared for it. I grab Noemie’s arm and lead her off the stage, down the stairs to the green room.
Her skin is buzzing with static, excitement.
I slam the door closed behind us, and it’s finally just the two of us, staring at each other like it’s the first time we’ve ever seen another human being.
I say the first thing that pops into my head.
“You are one fucking crazy loony ass woman!”
She throws her head back and roars with laughter.
And it’s the best sound I’ve heard in my life.
I join in, laughing so hard
I bend over, clutching my aching stomach muscles, that I barely notice when she jumps into my arms.
“What kind of woman am I again?” She asks, grinning at me.
“You’re my kind of woman. The exact type. The prototype. And the mold has now been broken.” I say, wrapping my arms tight around her, reassuring myself that she’s really here and not just one of the many hallucinations I’ve had of her over the months we were apart.
She giggles but I silence her with a kiss and her body melts against mine in an instant.
There’s a tiny purr in the back of my throat and it’s so endearing I pull away from her mouth and gently nibble on her throat, wanting to feel the hum against my lips. She complies and it send shivers down my body.
“I missed you so much,” I tell her.
And she nods.
“I’m sorry, I pushed you away, but I had to…I needed that time. So much happened that day, and the months before it, as much as I loved you, wanted to be with you, I think I…maybe the both of us, needed time to deal with that, instead of just focusing on us.”
And she’s right. Of course she’s right.
“And now?” I ask.
“Now, I’m all yours. Working brain and all,” she grins tapping on her temple. I brush her hand away and press my lips to her forehead.
“You remember everything?”
“I think so, it didn’t all come back right away. But, remember how I just kinda knew that you called me Toilet Girl?” I nod. “Well, it’s like I just knew things. And at first, it was a little confusing, because instead of making me feel like I remembered, it made it feel like I had new holes in my memory. But everything filled out eventually.”
“It was good for me too,” I admit to her. “I mean, it was excruciating, but I had to focus on my recovery. And my apology.”
She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.
“I should’ve believed you. I didn’t. But I should’ve. I’m so sorry.”
She presses a finger to my lips.
“No, I owe you an apology. It was asking too much. There wasn’t any reasonable logic as to why you should’ve believed me. I didn’t even really believe me. I was just going on…knowing myself.”
