I suspected Hank and Jim might have been twins, or at least brothers. They both had blonde hair but the length of it was the main way to tell them apart. Hank’s was short and buzzed, while Jim’s had grown down to his shoulders.

Oddly, I felt better now that the law had been laid down but not forcefully so. Everyone was on their best behavior, and I was able to set up my equipment without any trouble, as the guys were focused on their own stuff.

Before long, I was tuned up and looking for something to do.

“Where’s Derek?” Thom asked.

“Working at Shadow Realm Record Store,” said Adam, the bassist.

Thom’s follow-up question was, “Oh, is Ana still out?”

“Looks like it,” Adam answered.

“Shame, I hope she’s feeling better soon.”

There was another rumble of agreement, underlining how out of the loop I was. Keeping quiet, I waited for something to happen that I could easily understand.

“Should we just get started then?” Thom said.

“But Derek isn’t here,” Jim and Hank protested in unison.

“Should we put it to a vote?” Thom suggested.

Everyone agreed, and the result of the vote was that we should start the audition without Derek. I was half disappointed because I’d been hoping for at least a few more moments to calm my nerves, but the other half of me was relieved to be getting this over with.

Each of the men pulled up a seat as they gathered around to listen. With a deep breath of courage, I started to play, hoping my fingers would continue to do what my brain was directing them to do. Conscious thought had little to do with it once I really got going, muscle memory mostly taking over.

I did everything that immediately came to mind, trying to keep it to what I thought would be on theme. I played lots of Wagner and Beethoven, the floor seeming to shake at certain points. I was in the middle of O Fortuna when the door opened.

“What the hell is going on?” the guy who walked in demanded to know.

“I found us a cellist,” Thom said, unflappable. “At least potentially.”

“We voted for an audition,” Adam said, staring daggers at Jim and Hank. “Or at least they did, anyway.”

“You were here too,” Jim observed.

“And I voted against.”

“You did say you wanted more of a classical feel,” Jim told Derek. “I didn’t expect to find anyone so quickly, but here she is.”

“You’re right,” Derek conceded, which seemed to shock almost everyone. Then he turned to look at me. “What kind of experience do you have?”

It was what everyone seemed to want to know. I couldn’t blame them, really, since it was a fairly reasonable question under the circumstances.

“Lessons since I was a kid, plus college and a master’s degree,” I said, repeating what I’d already told Thom.

“Have you ever played live before?”

“Yes,” I said, trying not to think of the stage freight I’d had when I did.

I didn’t really like him arriving late and interrogating me in the middle of my audition, but I closed my eyes to hide my annoyance. I was too afraid I’d openly roll them otherwise.

“Only solos though, in recital. No band stuff.”

“Do you even like Metal?”

Everything grounded to a halt. The worst question possible was the second one he’d asked.

What were the odds of that?

“Does Wagner count?”

It was like a pantomime. Derek’s mouth opened and shut again, his finger raised pointedly. The look of indignation slipped past his face like a freshly thrown pie, leaving him ever so slightly humbled— a look that didn’t suit him.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I’d have to say that he does. He was, after all, the father of Metal, even though he was only a composer. Well spotted. I think we should keep going.”

“Want to put it to a vote?” Adam asked.

“No, please, continue,” Derek said, sinking onto a nearby amp cabinet.

Derek seemed to be a very important decision-maker in this band, so I was even more nervous now that I was having to audition for him, too. But I did my best to pick back up with what I had been doing before he had burst onto the scene in such a rude manner.

I played as well as I could with his gaze burning into my soul— a fact that did little to endear him to me. It didn’t really matter, though. We didn’t have to be friends, just bandmates.

I could do that well enough, if it meant I would be able to follow my life-long dream, one my mother was more than happy to latch onto, as a failed ballerina herself. Everyone had said the band was like family, and I knew from my own past experience that you didn’t always get along with everyone in your family.

“Right, that’s enough,” Derek finally said, holding up a hand.

I stopped on command, my bow dropping from the strings, mostly taken by surprise. Time stretched out into an agonizing eternity as he thought, while actually rubbing his chin like a cartoon character.

Tags: Jamie Knight Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net