Rory vs. Rockstar

As Rory entered the room, everyone was sitting around quietly, feeling relieved to be in this cozy, warm room. Arsen was lodged by her grandmother’s old piano, sitting with his back to it. Mickey had his shoes on the coffee table and was busy clicking selfies. It took one long, unfriendly look from Rory for him to take his feet off the table.

In no time, Rory and Lizzy had put candles all over the room, and now it was well lit and looked rather pretty. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of doing this before.

“This is pretty fucking cool. Like in that Guns n’ Roses song.” Mickey smiled, looking around.

“Yeah, man, totally,” Bobby replied. Rory realized that the other guy who had come in with Mickey hadn’t spoken at all and seemed lost in his own thoughts. The thunder still came in waves, but in here its sound was muted.

As she sat on the sofa, she heard the sound of a piano note. Then another and then some more. Her back was to him, but she could tell that Arsen was the one noodling on the piano. Soon notes were flying out of his fingers and she was genuinely surprised at his proficiency at the instrument. It sounded magical to her ears, and for a moment she thought she knew the song he was playing.

It was soothing, the soft manner in which Arsen threw in those sweet notes. It didn’t even need a singer, the music just sang by itself. Rory noticed Lizzy swaying with the music already and a smile made its way to her face. Just then Mickey Nicks stood up, put on his rockstar face, and broke into the lyrics of “Hey Jude.” Ah! So that’s how I know this song, she thought.

“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better…” Mickey’s high-pitched, yet melodious voice, rang through the room. Bobby instantly joined him and started singing a harmony, layering a strong bass counterpoint to Mickey’s voice. As extravagant as these rock stars were, Rory couldn’t help but admit that even with just a piano they were doing a beautiful job.

The other guy with them, the silent one, started tapping a percussive beat on the coffee table and Rory heard Lizzy let out an excited yelp. Lizzy sat there with her hands clasped, her eyes wide open, unable to believe what was happening. Rory wondered why she couldn’t be more like Lizzy, why she also couldn’t let her hair down for a bit and just enjoy the moment.

The last person to play this piano had been her grandmother, who loved playing “Amazing Grace” on it. She would get the whole family together and they would sing old standards. It was perhaps the only time that she felt comfortable in the company of her parents. The piano itself was nothing special, but it was her grandmother’s and it meant everything to Rory. She had always made sure that she called in a tuner at regular intervals to maintain it.

Rory had to admit that the way Arsen was playing the piano made it sound much better than it ever had before. The instrument seemed to sing on Arsen’s command and Rory found herself humming the tune, unable to stop herself from being overpowered by this moment. Even Don had started half mouthing the words in his tuneless voice as he pulled out a hip flask out of the inner pocket of his jacket and took a swig. By the time they were approaching the refrain, everyone was clapping and singing along.

Their voices formed a wonderful harmony and echoed through the high ceilings of her grandmother’s old house. Rory reluctantly turned around to look at Arsen, who was sitting with his back to her, his head bobbing slightly in rhythm with his playing.

“...na na na na na, Hey Jude,” sang Mickey, doing his best to out-sing the rest.

Everyone was singing and clapping in sync and the mood in the room had transformed. The warm glow of the candles added that extra bit of visual touch that was complimentary to the vibe of the song. Rory’s eyes met Lizzy’s and they both smiled at each other. If someone had told her twenty-four hours ago that the biggest rock band in the world would be in her house singing “Hey Jude,” she would’ve told them to take a hike.

Everyone broke into applause once the song ended, with smiles being shared all around.

“I have seen a zillion guys play music, but Arsen my boy, you still take my breath away,” Don remarked. Rory noticed that the smile on Mickey’s face grew dimmer at Don’s comment.

“One more! One more!” Lizzy exclaimed.

“Now now, young lady. I’m going to have to charge you an admission fee for that!” Don replied, and broke into a laugh. The kind of laugh you couldn’t help but join in with.

“Sure, why not! We got nothing else to do, right?” Mickey said. He was clearly enjoying being a rockstar and was constantly scanning Rory and Lizzy’s faces to see if they were impressed with his act. Rory found it childish.

“How about a blues jam?” Arsen said in his smooth baritone voice that sounded unlike everyone else’s in the room. Rory wondered how good a singer he was.

“Perfect. Let’s do a blues jam and make up some lyrics on the spot.” Mickey clapped his hands. As Arsen’s fingers hit the ivories and played the standard, familiar, blues progression that Rory had often heard on the old records that her grandma listened to, Mickey started singing.

“Rain rain, go away, don’t you come another day. The bad boys here all want to play, so do not spoil our holiday.”

Everyone broke into a laughter at the lyrics he churned out and Rory thought she even heard Arsen chuckle. Mickey went on to make more impromptu lyrics and did what he did best, entertain. Midway through the song, Arsen broke into an instrumental break and sped on, playing a hundred notes a minute. I thought he was a guitar player? Rory wondered. Arsen was playing the piano like he had been born on it.

Mickey meanwhile was busy dancing with Lizzy, who was super excited to be with such a big celebrity. There was a happy vibe in the room and for once, Rory decided to drop her guard and join in on the celebrations. She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine and some glasses. So what if it’s too early to drink in the afternoon. I don’t do this every day, she justified to herself.

Half an hour later, the bottle of wine was empty and Lizzy promptly headed to the kitchen to open another. Fueled by liquor, Mickey had regaled them with stories of funny incidents that had happened on tour. Some of the things were unbelievable for Rory, like the story about Bobby driving a limo into a hotel swimming pool. He seemed like such a quiet, docile guy, but apparently it was the most rockstar thing to do and they all treated it as normal.

Or the one about

Arsen appearing on a TV show in Japan, learning samurai sword-fighting while wearing a kimono. Rory couldn’t even imagine his muscular body in a kimono.

Lizzy had been constantly refilling Rory’s glass, and by that time Rory had already downed three of them, but most of all she was famished.

“Anybody want food?” she said out loud and murmurs of agreement came from everyone.

“Maybe we can order in,” Lizzy chimed in, clearly not wanting to break up the party that was going on.

“In this rain? No one will come,” Rory said.