Chapter 13 #2
“Yeah. Like—maybe if I’d caught things sooner or done something different, Kevin would be here with us to enjoy this.”
She shook her head. “Oh, honey, it wasn’t the touring.
It wasn’t you. Kevin said—” She looked at her drink, grunted, then picked up her water.
“When I talked to him last, Kevin said he’d been a functional alcoholic for years.
He could hide it from us when we weren’t touring.
” She took a sip. “None of that was your fault, and he doesn’t blame you at all. You gotta let that go.”
He didn’t know if he could. All the thoughts and emotions blended with what Mish was telling him. Words looped and repeated. Notes arrived like splotches of color. Light blue against black. Swaths of red, velvet like rose petals but dark as fine wine.
He stared at where the water lapped along the pool edge and listened to the laughter. “I think... I think...” He’d forgotten his notebook but had his phone, so he opened that to a notepad app and started typing.
He vaguely heard Mish chuckle, but was too busy trying to get what he saw and tasted and heard out. The music would have to wait, but that was easier to snatch back from his head. Words, though, those were like butterflies. A moment of brightness, then gone.
In the heat of a summer day
We were gods with a thousand dreams
But in the night of winter’s death
We were nothing but dust and ash
Where did the light we held go
Strands of gold and silver
When can we meet the sun again?
When nothing else came, he sat back, blinked, and looked up.
“Better?”
Much. So much so. The lyrics were rough and there was no music sketched down to go with them, but it was a start.
“Yeah.” He’d see if he could borrow one of Dom’s acoustic guitars later on, and pick out the colors and shapes in his head.
A title swam in his head, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to write that down yet. Make it real.
She nodded. “It’s good to see you smile, sweetheart.”
Was he smiling? Ray laughed. But yeah, his mood was lighter, the lump gone, and the fear that had gripped him held on less tightly. Kevin wasn’t here, but Zavier was. Ray could handle both things.
And if he could manage to remain calm, maybe Zavier could handle him—in whatever way that ended up being.
The café in the museum district was far more hip than Zavier, and younger, too. However, Dom fit right in, as if he was an early twenty-something student studying art or history or—well, anything, really.
Zavier had dressed pretty casually for their museum-hopping trip: an older pair of jeans and a T-shirt he’d picked up in Budapest during one of the symphony’s European tours.
Dom, though... Zavier eyed his bandmate for about the fortieth time.
Dom looked completely different. He’d seen this side of Dom when they’d rehearsed in private all those weeks ago, but even then, some of his Domino persona bled through.
Not today. Dominic Bradley wore green-framed glasses that matched the forest green in the checkered vest he’d paired with a soft blue button-down. He looked like something out of a freaking twink catalog, despite the muscle Zavier knew lay under the dapper look.
Dominic had shed his rock-god persona entirely—and was positively vibrating with joy. Who knew Dom was such an art and science geek? At every stop, he had regaled Zavier with some interesting tidbit of information about pretty much everything they looked at.
It was, in some ways, intimidating. That was a strange experience, not being the know-it-all for a change. At least Dom had rolled up the sleeves and worn a pair of jeans, or Zavier would have felt underdressed for their jaunt out to as many museums as they could stuff into a couple hours.
They’d managed to see art and dinosaurs and walk through part of the nearby park. There was still the zoo, about a dozen other smaller places, plus galleries, the park itself, and the university district.
The coffee in the café was good, as was the southern food. And, honestly, so was the company, even if Zavier’s brain was ever so slightly overloaded with information. They’d been at this since nine in the morning.
Dom tapped a map of the local area. “Did you know there’s an amphitheater nearby?”
“That’s one thing I do know,” Zavier said. “I performed there with the symphony. A year ago? Two years?” He shook his head. “It all blends together sometimes.”
Dom looked up. “Do you miss it? Playing with them?”
The question caught Zavier off guard, mostly because the answer came so quickly, he had to sit back and figure out why. “No.” He spoke slowly, more to taste the words than for any other reason. “No, I don’t.”
Dom cocked his head, obviously expecting more.
“I did enjoy playing. There’s a lot more to being a timpanist than kettledrums and triangles, which is what most people think the position is like. But I don’t miss the symphony.” He certainly didn’t miss Dimitri, who had been a demanding asshole of a conductor, even before they’d hooked up.
A quirk of a smile on Dom’s lips. Made him look even more like a college student. No wonder he got carded sometimes—he did look young. “Rock gets into your soul.”
It did. It had. “So does classical.” He still found himself humming snatches of music only aficionados would know, or tapping out complex rhythms that would befuddle a whole host of rock musicians, though he doubted there’d be a time signature or beat he could throw at Dom that would confuse him.
Or, for that matter, would confuse Ray or Mish.
Twisted Wishes used some interesting rhythms indeed.
Dom chuckled, then sobered. “Ray applied to Juilliard, you know.”
Zavier choked on his coffee. “He what?” The words shot through him, like an unexpected clap of thunder.
The reply came softer. “He did. But with his GPA...” Dom shrugged. “And he had no formal musical training. Besides, even if he’d somehow gotten in, he’d never have been able to afford it.”
That was something to chew on. He’d never paid attention to Ray’s financial situation back then. Didn’t know it now. “His family couldn’t have helped?”
Dom shook his head. “I mean, they did okay, but he’s the youngest of five, and his parents were taking care of his grandmother who had Alzheimer’s, and between all of that...”
Yeah, tuition to an expensive music school would be the last thing on anyone’s list. “So he never went to college?”
“Oh, he did. Got an associate’s from the local community college. Took some voice and music lessons when the band started getting more gigs after we graduated. Enough so he could read music.”
Ray hadn’t been able to read music in high school? Holy shit. Zavier leaned forward. “Are you telling me that Ray had no musical training at all as a kid?” And put together this band? Wrote those songs?
“Just the music appreciation stuff we all got in school.”
Which had been crap. “And they said I was a prodigy.” He shook his head.
“You were.” Dom toyed with the remains of his meal. “But he’s really good, Zav.”
“I know.” He’d seen it. Felt it. Played with them all.
“This shit with Carl...” Dom sighed. “It’s killing him. He’s always been self-conscious about his lack of training and schooling. All of that. He thinks his skill is all a fluke, as if someone’s gonna realize he’s faking and take it all away.”
And Zavier had walked in as a reminder and an example of a “true” musician. He winced. “No wonder Ray was so pissed when I showed up to audition.”
Another expression pulled at Dom’s lips, this one much more rueful. “Yeah.” His featured smoothed out. “But here’s the thing—you treat him like an equal.”
“He is.” Ray was astounding as a musician. As a man.
Dom nodded again. “It makes an impression, though. I think it’s one of the reasons everything has fallen into place when we’re on stage. He doesn’t have to worry about you, and he knows you don’t worry about him. You trust him.”
But offstage Ray was a different story, as they all found out last night. “You said he carries it all on him.”
“Yeah.” Dom leaned back, and looked wistfully at the map. “Do you think we could walk and talk?”
“Dude, I can play four different beats at the same time.”
Dom’s grin made him look like even more of a twink, and it occurred to Zavier that this was a completely cultivated look, just like Domino.
They paid and headed out toward yet another museum. Zavier fell into step next to Dom. “Thanks for inviting me along today. I hope I didn’t step on your plans to go cruising.”
Dom’s cackle of laughter was unexpected. “Oh my god. You’re the only one who’s ever figured that out.”
So there was a method to Dom’s madness besides being a museum freak. He couldn’t help the smile. “I lived and breathed the wine, cheese, and finger sandwich crowd for years.”
“Mmm.” There was almost something wistful in Dom’s voice. “On the one hand, it sounds lovely. On the other, I’d probably go insane after a few weeks.”
Zavier glanced at him. “Because rock gets into your soul?”
A nod. “But Domino is untouchable. And I mean that literally.”
Too intimidating. “Not if you’re into that sort of thing.” Dom’s stage persona would probably fit right into some of the dungeons he’d been to.
“But I’m not into that sort of thing.” Dom’s voice was quiet. “Not all the time.”
Which gave Zavier a pretty good idea what Dom wanted, and yeah, he could have filled that role. If there was any spark whatsoever between them. There wasn’t. A friendship, yes. But Dom didn’t scratch any of Zavier’s itches—and he suspected the other way around was true, too.
“So, what? You put on the real you and scour the museum set for a hookup?”
A wry chuckle. “Pretty much.”
Well, how about that? “Does it work?” He had to know. He really had to.
Dom’s smile was devilish. “All the time.”
Zavier’s turn to laugh. “Man, if I’d known...” He hated stepping on someone’s plans.
Dom waved his arm. “No, I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you. You were the impossible kid to befriend in high school. This has been fun.” His voice dropped a little. “And I feel better about you helping Ray out.”
Something about the way Dom spoke made Zavier’s skin heat. He glanced over. “What?”
There was that smile again, the one he never saw on Domino but seemed to live on Dom.
Instinct told Zavier he wouldn’t get an answer, even when pressed, and he was pretty sure he understood what Dom was hinting at.
He shrugged. “I like Ray.” Needed him as a friend.
Wanted even more. The thoughts settled onto Zavier, ill-fitting and scratchy, but he pushed them aside. No time to ruminate. No space.
“Good.” Dom rotated his map. “There’s a place up here I want to check out...”
Turned out to be a used bookstore. Or rather, an antique-book dealer. This was a little higher than the wine-and-cheese set. Nice literature, but not really Zavier’s thing.
He eyed Dom talking to the shop’s proprietor, a tall, broad man with dark hair and tan skin, who was practically eating Dom whole as they conversed. It was like watching a master at work. The way Dom laughed and moved and spoke—all quite real, but also quite enticing to the shop’s owner.
Time to leave him to his conquest. Zavier coughed. “Hey. I’m gonna head back. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Dom grinned like a kid at Christmas. “All right. You know the way back?”
Zavier rolled his eyes. “I’m quite capable of finding my way to the hotel, yes.” He pushed the door open, and headed out, leaving Dom to his prey.
The only problem was that the walk back gave him far too much time to contemplate Ray Van Zeller and all the details he now knew.
Zavier had been a musical prodigy. But...so had Ray. Only Zavier had been the one with money, lessons, and the asshole chip on his shoulder from being told how good he was. Ray hadn’t had any of that, and he’d climbed his way toward stardom anyway.
Fucking hell, where would Ray be if he’d been in Zavier’s shoes? He shook his head. One thing he’d learned, both in school and outside of it, playing what-if games with the past didn’t get anyone anywhere at all.
So the real question was how could Zavier help Ray now? He had no idea. Well, that wasn’t true—he had many, many ideas. Every single one of them heated his blood.
Zavier sighed. Those were the ones that were out of the question, even if a little voice in the back of his head kept asking, Why not?