If I'm going, to be honest, I've never subscribed to a particular genre of music. It depends on the day and my mood, really. On some days, I like the fast tempos of rock. In others, the ornate notes of the orchestra hit just right. And sometimes, I indulge in some sentimentality with classics from my youth, songs which, in hindsight, aren't anything remarkable, are turned into head-bangers through nostalgia-tinted lenses.
I even had a sea-shanty phase once.
Even so, if I had to pick a genre that I was never partial to but always held in high regard, it would be...
Suddenly, the drums kicked in, cymbals blaring through the calm night. Percussive beats started and maintained the rhythm as the drummer let her energy flow with the instrument.
So she was the life of the party and the music.
The winds followed shortly after, their silky-smooth airwaves almost swimming into my ears. The saxophone is considered by many to be one of the sexiest instruments, almost seductive in its noise. And as the saxophonist wrapped her lips around the glistening woodwind, she turned the air around her tantalizing.
Even on stage, she tempts those in her presence with her aura.
The strings arrived, and each pluck of the steel wires turned the air more and more electric. While traditionally a quieter, more supportive instrument, there was no doubting who was dancing with the melody in this pack as the chords of her bass sang throughout the performance.
An elegant yet casual, almost rebellious instrument, befitting the leader in white.
A supporting band of brasswinds and a piano chimed from the back. They played outside of the spotlight. And yet each player carried a suave of their own with each note that penetrated the air.
Not to mention the one figure I actually recognize in that group even in the dark, but we'll get to that later.
And finally, as each of the trio had a tinted light shone upon them, the brightest, almost angelic white light was reserved for the singer of the band. She stood at the edge of the stage, her black dress nearly celestial as I mistook the silver engravings for shimmering stars. A siren is nothing without her voice. And at last, we would hear her call out.
"Was a starry night on my way home when you left me all alone.
I went out hopin' for some solace, but everythin' reminded me of you.
It's not enough, this you should know. I needed you - I hope you need me".
Each word that rang from her silvery, no, golden voice hypnotized the audience. Her tone was light yet so emotional as each lyric carried what sounded like a lifetime's worth of regret. Even the minute movements of her mouth and frilled arms as she sang made the atmosphere fairytale-like.
"As you go farther, and my heart longs louder,
I begin to wonder that if you're not by my side, d'you wish to be by mine?"
And with those yearning words, the chorus commenced. Our quiet client now sang with her genuine emotions, in the loudest voice she could muster, with the song that conveyed all she felt for the person she loved - even if a sorrowful expression stained her faultless countenance. The performance echoed through the moonlit scenery as the piece continued, never regressing in impact or vibrato. The performers all smiled as they lovingly handled their instruments, one with energetic swings, another with alluring resonance, and one with tender picking. To go back to it, I've never been one to be partial to a specific musical genre, but if I had to pick just one I could listen to again, it would be this. From the soothing aesthetic, the individuality and personality of each sound, and most importantly for me, the relaxing yet passion-filled voice of the singer.
All of this and the thing that still enthralls me the most is that my dear partner can play the piano.
The instruments suddenly stopped, allowing the siren to sing on her own. This time, however, instead of a heartache-ridden look - the corners of her mouth curled heavenward. And a blissful smile of her freed spirit now danced on stage, each word she sang accompanied by a twirl or flourish of her body. The music returned as the song passed its bridge, the tri-O following in the vocalist's pace, joy painted on their faces as the song reached its final climax.
I guess the tri-Os became a quartet. QuOrtet? F-O-ursome? Actually, wait, that implies her name starts with an O. Ah, Olivia.
The piece slowly reached its conclusion, with Lily beginning to speak the final lyrics. The rumble of the drums, the waves of the sax, and the tones of the bass started to trail off and fade as the last words pierced the atmosphere of the venue.
"Will you answer my echoes?"
And as she sang her closing words with silver-tongued grace and closed eyes, the posh and refined veneers of the crowd melted away as they erupted into cheers and applause. Lily's eyes unexpectedly opened in surprise. Startled by the vehement approval of her audience, she hid her face in embarrassment as her complexion - which white lamplight earlier dyed, now glowed a pinkish-red. To this, three young women stood up to be beside her, all putting an arm behind the flustered siren whose face turned to one of grateful confidence, not before turning around and calling the knight-like pianist from her post to join in a bow. I was far away, and the dimly lit area at the back wasn't helping. And yet, even all of this didn't prevent me from spotting the reluctant face of my dear partner. She begrudgingly stood up from her post, whose monochromatic keys matched her gallant ensemble. The gals shifted their positions to give Myla a spot beside Lily, who then placed an arm around the cold woman, prompting the rest of the group to huddle around my dear partner as well. I held a hand to my mouth, holding in a laugh and looking away, only for me to turn back and see Myla glaring icy daggers at me all the way from the staging with not a hint of restraint in her spite.
Don't do that. You actually look evil.
Finally, the tri-O turned quintet all gave a bow to the applauding masses. It was incredible, the earlier upper-class and reserved atmosphere of the event being turned on its head by the performance of our bashful young woman and her companions. It was then I realized Nash had disappeared from my grasp, only to see him at the front of the stage, camera in hand, as he made his way to the stairs to receive his better half. At that moment, I also noticed four people climbing down to the joyous onlookers, not five.
"It seems your favorite part of the show was my predicament." A familiarly frigid voice sounded behind me, followed by a tug at the back of my collar.
"Ahaha, who could that be?" I asked, turning around. "Oh! Myla! That was you up there? I couldn't tell since I've never seen you make that face! Ever!" I tried to save myself, but with crossed arms and an annoyed expression, my dear partner told me to escape was all but futile. Still, it seemed she let me off with a warning as she exhaled a sigh and shook her head before facing away from me and walking back to our table. Perhaps telling me, she would give the answers to the many questions I now had. Before following her, however, I glanced at our quiet client. She looked happy, Nash by her side as the tri-O joined her arm-in-arm, conversing with those who enjoyed their spectacle. And while it seemed she kept her mouth closed as those around her did the talking, she had already said all she needed on stage.
Maybe this'll turn out alright, after all.
I sat down on the empty white table, not a plate nor a crumb of food in sight, as I placed my head on it in disappointment.
"Hey, we have bigger things to deal with than that. Raise your head." Myla called out from the other side of the sheet-lined surface, but all I could do was wince.
"I should've told the server to go ahead and leave the food here. I'm an idiot."
"Are you seriously regretting that the most? Really?"
"Look, it's not my biggest regret. It's just layered on top of those earlier ones, m'kay?" I said as I gave an equally displeased look to my dear partner at her lack of concern.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
"All that aside, you've got some explaining to do."
"Indeed I do." And with that, Myla began to confide in me about the happenings during my brief disappearance.
"So they're from a local jazz club? Guess that explains the metal cases and easy-to-move in outfits." I said in a somewhat surprised tone at the revelation.
"Yes, it seems they work in a few of the upper-class bars around the city. From what I heard, though, they actually decided to join after seeing one of the same posters we did regarding the position." She continued, taking a sip from the red wine, which was all that remained on our blank table.
"So that's why they kept their job a secret too, huh? Best not to spoil the surprise, I guess. That explains the how and what, not so much the why." It made sense. The tri-O were local performers taking the opportunity to advertise themselves to a greater audience. All the while having some fun in the process, but that didn't explain why Lily, of all people, decided to perform with them. And why they agreed to it in the first place.
"I'd expect you to think it was the group's idea, or maybe even mine. But the decision to go on stage and sing was all because of Lily's volition." To this, I raised an eyebrow, curious about the rest of her incomplete answer.
"The three were actually also looking to socialize tonight, strange for what seemed like an outgoing band, I know. But that's also the reason they picked Lily's table. They weren't exactly socialites themselves, and wanted to find someone they could talk to and enjoy the evening together. Similar to us, it seems we found the perfect matches in each other."
"Ohh, so that's why they acted like that," I commented, making my partner tilt her head as to my realization.
"I thought they wanted to ignore her earlier when she criticized Odette's outfit, right? I guess that was just them panicking in their own way."
I guess I really was overthinking things. No, wait, no amount of overthinking could match the turnout of tonight's events.
"After you left, they told us they were going to perform on stage, almost as an apology for putting Lily on the spot and upsetting her. Of course, she denied this, but after hearing the song, they were going to perform, she thought of a better way to apologize."
"She knew the song they were gonna sing."
"Correct. Our run of luck hasn't run dry after all."
"And that is why we're miracle-workers."
"If we did have enough good fortune to create miracles, we wouldn't be partners, now would we?" Myla quipped at me, shaking her glass gently with the ice cubes making a few click clacks before placing it down.
"That's the cool thing, just being together is such a massive ball of bad luck everyone around us gets good luck to balance things out." I shot back with a laugh as I took a swig of the rich drink in front of me. Myla replied with a sigh, but instead of cold dismay, it held a more exasperated but satisfied tone.
"Still, what surprised me the most is that you can play the piano. How come I never knew?"
"Oh, that, it was nothing." My dear partner replied with a raised head and a raised glass, seemingly proud of her work.
"Ohoho, no need to be so humble."
"No, seriously, it was nothing. I don't know how to play the piano."
"Eh? Then what was that on stage?"
"It was a recording. The pianist was simply unavailable for the night, and Lily asked me to join her on stage. Put two in two together, and," Myla closed her eyes with a smirk. It seemed she wasn't proud of her performance but managing to fool me.
"So you were just flailing your hands around. Well then, guess I'll have to check that off your possible hidden talents."
"There are so many questions I have for that sentence, all of which I presume I'll receive no answer worth listening to."
"Lockpicking."
"No."
"Aw. Unicycle-bound knife juggling."
"...No."
"Hey, why'd you hesitate?" We both paused for a moment before sharing a brief chuckle. I guess even we had our limits when it came to our exchange of wits. Maybe it was the sensation of success allowing us to laugh at ourselves or that we underestimated the alcohol. Whatever the case was, I didn't have time to mull over it as the room took the same hue as our beverages. The glow of the overhead lamps vanished as a blanket of inviting red flooded the space to signal the beginning of the event's summit.
"Oh, the dance is starting." Right as I said that, a slow and melodic piece began to emanate from the stage. The tunes matched the style of the venue and its patrons. It was a mix of classic slow waltz with an ear-catching combination of violins, a piano, and bassy strings, all playing modern songs I've heard dozens of times in this refreshingly classical rendition. But even with this already taking much of my attention - a particular pair in the distance stole my gaze as they held each other in the low light. The lines on their outfits, a clash of red and blue, and yet the way the black fabrics they donned flowed together in their synchronized steps displayed anything but conflict. And as they continued their entrancing movements, it was almost enough to clear my conscience of my many doubts.
Almost.
But I was exhausted, and with such an air of triumph and respite engulfing me, it felt like it was time for a breather. I stood up from the comfort of the rosewood ladderbacks and put my hands to my hips as I stared confidently at the dimly illuminated mass of bodies.
"Right, I'm gonna go join."
"You? In that crowd? All alone? I usually don't get embarrassed for someone else, but for you, I'll make an exception." My dear partner replied with the most pleasant smile I've seen her make that night.
"You surely jest. Besides, at least I'm trying to enjoy myself here."
"I'd rather just enjoy the rest of the evening here," Myla replied and leaned further back into her seat, understandably so. But before I would leave her to her own devices, I gave one last parting shot.
"Alright, don't have to hide the fact you can't dance to save your life so much," I said with a close-eyed shrug before turning around and making my way to the dancefloor. Not even two steps past, however, I heard the creak of a shifting chair as my dear partner appeared in front of me, wordless as she stared at me with a cold glare.
"Well, what are you waiting for?"
"Nothing really, just - Hmm?" Before I could answer, an arm in a slim white sleeve was outstretched to me - a small but deceivingly resolute hand offered to me as its wielder, a knight in a suit, stood with the red light shining from behind her - a silhouette of silver filled with two luminous amber orbs... I couldn't help at smirk before accepting my dear partner's invitation as we walked to the floor.
We're gonna regret this in the morning, aren't we?
We reached the space, which was beamed with red luster as I held her arm out and placed my other behind her.
"You do know how to do this, right?" I asked as I readied my feet to begin the steps.
"Not a clue."
"Wait, what?" I asked already mid strut, causing Myla's follow-up to be a bit late and having a sharp heel landing square on my toes.
"Ow. Really? You're telling me this now?"
"Think of it as another thing to cross off your earlier list." She said with a close-eyed and reserved expression.
"It's like the most basic footwork. How do you not know how to do this?"
"I never had a chance nor reason to learn it." Her responses were short and unconcerned, matching her carefree steps that did little to match my pace.
"I thought you guys had to attend events like these often."
"And this is the first time I've had a good reason to show off my skill, or lack thereof." For once, she was the one to make me exhale a sigh, and I continued,
"Alright, we'll go slowly. Just follow my lead, alright?" She seemingly obliged as her steps composed themselves and began to slowly synchronize with mine.
Then again, I haven't done this since I got married either, but I'll just keep my own mistakes to myself.
We began to get into a bit of a rhythm as the music continued. And while we were slower than those around us, as our coattails flared from behind us, each tread and movement made us look like a breeze of black and white in the maroon space. It was then I began to notice little things about my dear partner as I could place less attention on not falling over. She stood a tad bit taller today, her eyes more in line with mine due to her footwear - making a satisfying clack as it landed on the maple floor. Her hair, while usually either calmly resting on her shoulders or drifting in the wind, was tied into a whirlpool-like shape, each strand like a string of silver in the world's most intricate piece of jewelry. And finally, while cold in her words and demeanor, a gentle warmth filled her hands which fit perfectly in my own. It was easy to miss these things, but the increase in my awareness of them made me a little bit tense.
"Bridger," Myla finally spoke up, knocking me out of my reverie and making me jump slightly.
"Y-yeah?" I answered, trying to hide my earlier daze. She brought herself closer to me, a hair's distance away from my face as she whispered,
"We can't stop here." She said cooly into my ear, causing me to shiver and yet heat up in response.
"W-what? Are you alright? Where's this coming from?"
"You've been thinking of it too? Right? This entire night." And with that, she pulled back and, with closed eyes, finished,
"Lily and Nash. Their problems aren't going away with just this. We need to do more." With those last words, her grasp disappeared from mine, and she melted into the crowd as I was left with a pounding chest and realization of my dear partner's keen eye.
Never mind, I'm already regretting it.