Concerto in Chroma Major

by Naomi Tajedler

  Ah, precisely the point she has avoided so far, to Saral’s annoyance. She has delayed any consideration of what will happen beyond the end of concert season, beyond the end of her engagement with the orchestra.

  Alas, this is not her first contract; she discovered, long ago, the various behind-the-scenes processes of her field beyond the simple joy of music. Halina is acutely aware of how deals are made by concert halls around the world as they secure soloists and guest musicians for their programs and to attract donors. She cannot bring herself to consider her next engagement and not involve Alexandra, whether it’s to leave her or stay. She has just gotten used to the idea of being in a relationship; it’s too soon to consider its end.

  “My manager is in Paris for a couple of days,” she replies, her attention seemingly on the hem of her dress. “We’ll have some time after the opening to talk about it.”

  Echoes of the first piece played for an official audience in the concert hall surround them, and then thunderous applause. They both exhale deeply.

  “It never gets old, does it,” she says, eyes turned toward the ceiling.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t,” Lang Jian replies with a boyish grin. “Otherwise, what’s the point of all our hard work?”

  “Good point.”

  Lang leaves the stage after the performance of his first piece, then brings Halina back onstage with him, and the crowd, already on its feet, cheers with new energy as she takes the stage. God, if she thought the room was impressive during rehearsals, it pales in comparison to how daunting it is when filled with an audience and alive with their cheers and applause.

  Halina lets those vibrations resonate through her body and chase the nerves away. They’re replaced by an energy just begging to come out through her fingers. Hand in hand, she and Lang bow to the orchestra, the audience, and the maestro before they sit side by side on the piano bench.

  Lang Jian starts, one note repeated over and over again, while Halina plays the two higher-pitched arpeggios. Saint-Saëns’s melodic poem unfolds as they play, and their four hands run along the keys in a perfect choreography of fingers and notes.

  As if through a heavy curtain, Halina hears the orchestra around them marking the measure on their stands, following the tempo of the “Danse macabre” with them. She notes the reaction of the audience to this off-program surprise, but all that matters are her fellow pianist, the Steinway, and herself. She lets the melody sweep her from her thoughts and use her as a medium to share this magic with the rest of the world. This is why she sacrificed everything: to become one with the keys, with the strings, with the music. She lets herself smile when they get to the end of the piece, the end of death’s waltz.

  They both play the final notes, the tremolo, and then sit back, detaching themselves from the piano to return to the mundane world. They exchange a look in the second when the music is still present as an echo through the room, and the audience is still enraptured before exploding into applause and cheers.

  They stand, arm in arm, and Halina is saved by Lang Jian’s hand from making a fool of herself when she starts to bow too low. Scanning the audience, Halina quickly finds Alexandra on her feet next to Saral, cheering, awe written all over her face.

  Oh, right, Halina reminds herself, it’s the first time she’s seen me in performance mode.

  From the look of it, Alexandra enjoyed what she heard, what she saw. Halina wonders how it manifested for Alexandra: this beautiful, if a little bit frightening, piece of romantic music. She has the intermission to ask her all about it, but she must also focus on the next part of the program. Lang Jian will take over the celesta, because the instrument is one of his “hobbies,” but the Escaich piece is no walk in the park for either of them.

  Alexandra still claps slowly as people file out to stretch their legs, or get some drinks, or mingle with the celebrities in the audience. Her mouth is stretched in a stunned smile. The flash of colors is still vivid at the forefront of her mind, along with the sight of Halina’s back, offered to Alexandra’s eyes through the lace of her red dress.

  Her beauty really is magnified in this outfit. And to watch her perform with such an audience is completely different from the numerous rehearsals Alexandra has attended. Trust Halina to hold back some of her energy for the actual performance.

  Halina feeds on her public’s energy, the spotlight; she connects all of it to the keys to give back to her audience, in a virtuous cycle. If Alexandra had any doubts about whether Halina belonged to the stage or not, they have completely vanished now. This creature who walks toward her? Electric, untouchable, passionate? It’s the woman Alexandra has come to love, transformed, amplified to a whole other level.

  “Did you enjoy our surprise?” Halina is aglow as she rests one hand on Alexandra’s arm and the other on Saral’s shoulder.

  “It was splendid,” Saral replies with an air-kiss. “And you are sensational, my dear.”

  Halina smiles coquettishly at him as she thanks him. It’s a good thing Halina has repeatedly mentioned the pride she feels in her status as a gold-star lesbian, or Alexandra would be very jealous of the whole exchange.

  Halina only has eyes for Alexandra when her smile turns soft as she says, “Paris must suit me.”

  “Hmm, must be it,” Saral says, glancing over Halina’s shoulder to wave at someone. “All right, Goldfinger. I must schmooze on your behalf. And, um, na szczęście!”

  Halina shakes her head; one small ringlet escapes her complicated braid. “He always butchers it,” she mutters, the fondness in her voice contradicting her judgment. “Did you like it?” she repeats, now completely focused on Alexandra.

  “Oh, babe,” she gushes, “it was… wow. Inspiring. Awesome. Brilliant.”

  Halina blushes light pink on her cheeks and the hollow of her throat. “I hoped you would. Was it… pretty?” she asks, tapping her temple in a mirror of Alexandra’s usual gesture to signal a photism.

  Alexandra laughs at her gesture and grasps Halina’s hands. “It was. I’ll show you, if you can find time to come by the studio.”

  Halina cocks an eyebrow at her. “Is this an invitation into your kingdom?”

  “Consider this an open invitation whenever you want to drop by.”

  “I will.” Halina pecks Alexandra’s lips. “I need to get back. But I’ll catch up with you later?”

  “Of course. Blow them all away.”

  Halina beams at her. “I always do,” she says with a wink, before she whispers in Alexandra’s ear, “and it always gives me quite the rush.”

  “The r—oh,” Alexandra says when Halina suggestively trails her fingers up her arm. “Let me think about that.”

  “Counting on it.”

  For the life of her, Alexandra can’t take her eyes from the smoothness of Halina’s skin undulating in front of her as she walks away.

  Is this payback for my early teasing? Fine, I’ll play.

  After the concerto, a short break to move the pianos lets the audience return to schmoozing and Champaigning. Saral wishes Alexandra a pleasant evening and leaves, whispering with an important-looking lady. Ari takes advantage of the free seat and leans toward Alexandra. “She’s changing, but she’ll be here in a minute,” they say conspiratorially. “Told me to tell you, so you wouldn’t worry.”

  Alexandra keeps her eyes on the stage, where the piano and the smaller piano-thingy are being moved. “Thank you,” she whispers back. “You are very handsome, by the way.”

  She means it. Ari’s outfit brings out all their assets. The sober three-piece suit is perfectly tailored to their body. Their blond hair is swept into a gravity-defying pompadour. With the glitter on their chest, the winged eyeliner, and black lipstick, Ari makes a truly spectacular picture.

  They pat their hair in a coy gesture. “Why, thank you m’lady.”

  “You’re very welcome. Thank you for su
ch a visual delight.”

  Ari gives her a sideways glance, playfully offended. “Are you hitting on me, ma’am?”

  “Nope. Already taken.”

  “No need to tell me. Never thought I’d live to see the day Boss Lady would settle down." They pause as the orchestra tunes for the last part of the concert. “But I must say, you’re a breath of fresh air compared to her usual type.”

  “How so?”

  “Ya know,” Ari replies, East Coast accent thick and turquoise in their whispers, “girls with the same slim physique, but without her brains and talent.”

  “And what am I?”

  Ari snickers. “The opposite. Same level of brains and talent, but diametrically opposite body types.”

  “I suppose.”

  “It’s a good thing that opposites attract and all,” they add, patting her hand patronizingly.

  Alexandra is about to ask them about it when they nod toward the free seat. “Hi.”

  Halina changed indeed. The red dress has been replaced by an outfit not so different from Ari’s: a black tuxedo and a ruffled, crisp, white shirt. Her shoes and hairdo are the same, though, and Alexandra brushes her fingers against the braid, which is wound around a side ponytail. The style is playful, yet elegant.

  “Hi.”

  Halina leans over the armrest to put her fingers on their preferred spot: high on Alexandra’s thigh at the hem of her dress. “I hope you enjoy this as much as I do.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Alexandra replies in the same tone and puts her hand on Halina’s fingers before they can slip under the fabric. “The orchestra is very good.”

  Halina tangles her fingers with Alexandra’s. “Can’t wait to go home with you.”

  “Oh?”

  Halina whispers in Alexandra’s ear; her fingers draw abstract patterns to the beat of the music. “I want to take you home and undress you,” she says softly, her face a mask of interest as she keeps her eyes on the musicians. “Make you keep your shoes on while you show me how you pleasure yourself.” Alexandra gulps; her legs cross and uncross in an effort to put up a bold front. “And I’ll make sure not to waste any of the lesson.”

  Halina’s fingers move until they are brushing back and forth in the crease between Alexandra’s hip and thigh, an unsubtle suggestion of what she intends to do.

  “Oh.”

  “And afterward, maybe we can… play.”

  “Play?”

  “I perused the stores around the hotel.” She leans closer. “Are you familiar with ‘Passage du Désir’?”

  “Y-yes.”

  Of course, the adult pleasure store is one Alexandra has visited often. It’s easy to picture Halina in it, perusing the different objects they have to offer, asking for guidance—oh my.

  Halina’s smiles, predatory yet playful, the best representation of the cat about to get the cream Alexandra has ever faced. “I have faith you’ll approve of my choices.”

  “I’m pretty sure I already do.”

  “Good. Shhh, this is the best part, I don’t want you to miss it.”

  It may be, as Halina says, the best part, but Alexandra cannot focus on the music; her mind is entirely occupied in controlling the wave of arousal breaking over her.

  The little vixen.

  Back in Halina’s hotel room, much later—so late, in fact, it’s practically morning—Halina kicks off her shoes and sits in an armchair, obviously firmly on board with her own voyeuristic plan to watch Alexandra as she pleasures herself before joining in the fun. Usually, Alexandra would have no problem at all with such a plan. She’d be at ease with the spotlight on her as she put on a show for her partner. But Ari’s words ring in her head.

  How different Alexandra and Halina are! How different she must be in comparison to Halina’s previous partners, the partners she would blow off some steam with before performing, and God knows how many there have been. All the confidence and love for her own body Alexandra has built over the years crumble away, leaving her self-conscious and clumsy.

  “Something wrong?” Halina asks when Alexandra keeps her hands on the zipper of her skirt for maybe a bit too long.

  “N-nothing, just got caught in my own head,” she replies hastily, pushing the skirt off to kick it aside. Of course, because it’s her luck, the skirt catches her heel and nearly sends her toppling to the floor. Now embarrassed by her own lack of grace in addition to her self-consciousness, Alexandra tries to get her balance back. She takes her top off and stands for Halina with her hands on her hips.

  This is not about me, she reasons, this is for her, to celebrate her.

  Halina has her head cocked; her eyes slowly follow the curve of Alexandra’s legs up to the lace of her bodysuit.

  “That dress definitely suits you, słoneczna,” she says, her face filled with fondness. “Remember, keep the shoes on.”

  “You have a fetish,” Alexandra comments, slowly relaxing as she shakes her head to get rid of the static. Her earrings ring a bell-like chime, droplets of purple and turquoise. “Want me to keep these on, too?”

  “Sure.”

  “Fetishist.”

  “Of you in very sexy attire you wear only for me? Sure, let’s call it that.”

  Alexandra laughs at her and throws her bra in Halina’s face. Some jasmine petals flutter to the plush floor. Halina chuckles too, with her nose buried in the cups to take in Alexandra’s perfume.

  As she scoots back on the bed with her back to the headboard so she faces Halina, Alexandra tries not to let her mind derail to the parts of her body bouncing and jiggling or to the way Halina’s whole body is firm and toned.

  “Okay, what’s wrong,” Halina growls as she sits at the other end of the bed. “Something’s bothering you, and I’d rather have you comfortable when you’re pleasuring yourself on my behalf.”

  Alexandra tries to deny it, but Halina’s care gives her no escape route. She folds her legs closer to her chest. “It’s just… something Ari said.”

  “They’re full of shit. It doesn’t matter.”

  “They told me I’m not your usual type?”

  Halina acquiesces. “Okay, it’s true.”

  “I just—it made me self-conscious, or something.”

  Halina sits closer and puts her hand on Alexandra’s knee, soothing her by caressing circles on her skin. “Alexandra, listen to me,” she says softly. “No, you’re not my usual type. But, I never slept twice with girls who were my ‘type.’” She makes air quotes, then puts her hands back on Alexandra’s legs. “Maybe that’s what matters? That I find you interesting and beautiful enough to want more of you than an easy physical thing?”

  “I guess,” Alexandra mutters, letting Halina’s words and caresses appease her. “It’s just a tough standard to match.”

  Halina chuckles softly and runs her hands down Alexandra’s calves and to her ankles and back. “No bigger challenge than what we are building together.”

  “How so?”

  “I never in my life had what we have, whatever it is. It’s… honestly? I’m terrified.”

  Alexandra moves up on her haunches to get closer to Halina. “You don’t think I’m terrified by it?” she asks, lifting Halina’s chin to gaze into her eyes. “Every day, I wake up with the thought that today may be the day you decide this is not worth it.”

  In for a penny…

  “The day you finally run away.” From me.

  Halina keeps her eyes on her, slowly blinking as she absorbs her words. “See,” she says, voice dropped to a husky whisper, “I told you, we’re not so different.”

  Alexandra smiles at her, leans back on the pillows and pulls Halina against her body. It’s a weird position they end in, legs and arms tangled in fabric, but comfortable enough that she doesn’t try to alter it. Halina, however, rolls to the side, pulls off her pants, and opens her s
hirt before nestling her head on Alexandra’s chest.

  “I am not a mind reader, though.”

  “Hmm?”

  Alexandra settles into the embrace, marveling at how quickly they went from a moment that was supposed to be hot, sexy, and fun to one so intimate, nearly platonic, and serious.

  Halina doesn’t move, but Alexandra tilts her head to see her face. “You need to tell me when you are insecure about me, about us,” Halina says softly. “I can’t read your mind.”

  “I know.”

  “And I need to feel like you trust me, so I can trust you.”

  The hesitation is palpable in Halina’s voice; it’s colored rosewood around the edges.

  “I do trust you, babe,” Alexandra murmurs. “You’re right. I’ll try?”

  “Ditto.”

  Silence stretches between them, interrupted only by the sounds from the street below. Alexandra tightens her hold around Halina, and Halina returns the gesture with a nuzzle to her cheek.

  “Tell me about these.”

  Alexandra is very comfortable in this mood, just enough to drift into sleep. “Mmm—’bout what?”

  Halina covers Alexandra’s elbow with her hand and lightly taps her diamond-shaped tattoo—the inked rainbow is visible even in the semidarkness—and then slides her hand to the top of her spine, where there is another, cardiogram-like rainbow tattoo. “About these?”

  “Right now?”

  “Please?”

  Alexandra focuses on her. Maybe their communication is improving. “All right,” she says, twisting her arm so Halina can trace it with her fingers. “It’s not much of a story, though.”

  “Ple-ease?”

  Alexandra snorts and lightly rests her palm on Halina’s face to push it away. “Put those puppy eyes away; you’re going to hurt someone,” she says, still laughing. “I got this one as a reward for myself, for getting my diploma. Right after college, before my internships, before I left California,” she says, fingers on her elbow. “And I celebrated my first commission here with this one,” she adds, her hands finding the nape of her neck.

  “Why did you leave California?”