dissonance. (a Böhme novel) (15 page)

"I have no doubt," Karl said with a grin.

I returned my eyes to the stage as Blake spoke with Conall deciding what song to play. Conall told the others in his band what song they were doing and a few of the guys shrugged as if they didn't have a problem with the song choice. Stephen picked up a mandolin with a big smile and a nod, not hiding his excitement.

Blake stepped to the microphone with nervousness.

“Is this thing on?” Blake asked as he spoke into the microphone, with a shy chuckle. I smiled at his goofiness. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to say that.” He shrugged.

Wynn, Hannah, and Karl laughed next to me and each of them looked at Blake with the knowing humor only close friends understood.

Blake ran his palms across his pants as if to dry his hands, “I thought of singing a song from a musical because it’s one that I sang with my mom all the time as a kid.” There were many “awes” echoing through the room as he spoke of his mom. I looked at the women’s expressions and saw them undressing Blake with their eyes and daydreaming of the hot guy on stage—wishing he would take them home with him.

“But I realized I needed to sing a song for someone in particular, someone now, someone here. I couldn’t have my mom be involved in that. That’d be fucking weird.” There was laughter from the crowd.

“And, so everyone knows I’m doing this for Brecken. I met her last night and I swear she’s the coolest, most sincere, funniest person I’ve met…at least in the last week,” he said with a smart ass grin. “And she needs to remember that being up here and doing this for her is huge, and that’s not a loaded statement,” he said giving me a wink. I rolled my eyes at his innuendo and he gave a sexy laugh. "Don't forget it Brecken," he said with a smile as he paused meeting my eyes and not turning away. The smile he gave to me in that moment made my chest ache.

He took a deep breath, broke eye contact and nodded to Stephen to start picking at the mandolin. The song started, and I recognized it as one we cover in Corrosive Underwear. His eyes met mine once more as he began to sing the words to
Classy Girls
by The Lumineers.

He was nervous, and his voice shook, cracked, and broke at times. But it was one of the sweetest songs I had ever heard. As the song picked up and Conall began to sing along with him, Blake's nervousness began to ease.

My chest rose and fell in a fast motion as my heart raced, and I fought to not let my emotions get the best of me. My thoughts drifted to my father and the many moments he shared with my mother. I had flashes of them dancing in the rain together, him singing to her as they swung on our porch swing, and many more memories spun through my mind. My heart ached. It was the thoughts of the love my parents shared at one time more so than with Blake singing to me.
It was about my parents, right?

Karl’s hand went to my shoulder as he leaned down and gave me a concerned expression.

I waved my hand in the air, trying to fan his concern away. Karl gave me a small nod before we both looked back to Blake. But before doing so I saw Abby in the crowd and she gave me an annoyed expression. I flipped her off, and she looked away.

Hannah laughed beside me and gave me a nod of approval before she began to twirl and dance to the song. Her hair flowed around her shoulders and the skirt she wore rested just under her belly making her look like an enchanted fairy, though a pregnant one. I had an urge to dance as well, but refrained. I didn’t want to feed Blake’s ego too much.

He pulled the microphone closer to his mouth and began to sing with excitement in his voice as he walked to the edge of the stage and let everyone know his attention focused on me. His nervousness had faded the longer he was on stage. A cheesy grin spread across his face as he realized the impact he made. I shook my head at him.

He finished the song and stepped from the stage amidst the clapping audience. He did a half bow as he walked through the dispersing crowd and came to stand by me.

“So did I do okay?” he asked.

“Well, I thought it very presumptuous of you to dedicate it to me. Your voice is okay for a first timer. But aside from the song you chose—did you really sing show tunes with your mom?” I asked with a grin.

“Did I say used to? I still do, darlin’,” he said as he pulled me into him and kissed the top of my head. “Can we go?” he asked.

“Do you need my permission to leave? You drove yourself, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, of course I did, but just because I came alone, doesn’t mean I have to leave alone,” he said with a lift of his eyebrow.

“Nope, I have to get home. Conall’s girlfriend found a ride and I have an early morning,” I said.

“Well, that’s a shame, but tomorrow then?” he asked as he grabbed my hand once more.

“Yeah, I can do something tomorrow,” I said with a smile and he nodded. I just agreed to see him tomorrow, and I didn’t hesitate in my response.
What happened to me telling him I couldn't date him?

I turned my shoulder to him and looked at Karl as I tried to distract myself from my thoughts.

“What’s up man?” I asked Karl because his face was contorted to one deep in thought.

“Wynn was telling me that our little tagger friend has left another painting. There’s a new one on the other side of the building. People were thinking it should be covered, but the way I see it, leave it. This person is bringing attention to themselves for a reason with their questions. So why stop it?” Karl said.

“What does it say?” I asked.

“You should see it for yourself. It’s fucking brilliant,” Wynn said, looking away from me and at Hannah, as they shared a moment only the two of them understood.

“Okay, we will. I’m going to walk Brecken out to her car,” Blake said.

“Oh man, you're leaving? We were going to grab something to eat. Do you want to join us?” Wynn asked.

“Didn’t you just eat?” Karl asked.

“Yes,” Hannah laughed. “I was hungry all the time before; what do you think this is doing to me?” she said as she looked at her belly.

Wynn nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I will take you up on that—what about you Brecken? You changing your mind?” Blake asked as he gave me a mischievous smile.

I shook my head. “Nope, if I don’t get my sleep I will want to poke my eyes out and no one wants blood in their bagels.”

Blake gave a slight grin. “Wow, that was gross, Brecken.” He laughed as he pulled me near. “But it was fucking cute too,” he whispered in my ear, and kissed the top of my head once more.

Blake was very comfortable with me and I found myself following his lead. It was unnerving—I can’t get that close, that soon. But another part of me, the long locked away quiet part, believed it was possible, because damn it if it wasn’t happening. I wanted to touch him as much as possible.
End it, Brecken
.

“Okay, Brecken, it was nice seeing you again and don’t forget about my promise,” Karl said with a wink.

“Yes, it was nice meeting you,” Hannah said and Wynn nodded with a grin.

I sighed with a smile and gave a roll of my eyes directed at Karl. “You’re welcome, Karl. Your work is amazing by the way, I’m proud of you.” I turned to the others. “Hannah and Wynn, I hope to see more of you two,” I said.

“You too, Brecken,” Hannah said as she pulled me in for a hug. “He likes you,” she whispered in my ear. “Not to freak you out, but he does.” She held me at arm’s length and gave me a wink. Yeah, it freaked me out.

She looked above my head toward Blake standing behind me. She put her hand atop her hip and wrapped the other one under Wynn’s arm. She leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled at both Blake and me for a moment.

“Okay. On that note,” Blake said as he drew me toward the exit.

We walked down the open staircase and Blake stopped on the step in front of me before he turned back to me. “Can I do something?” he asked.

“You should elaborate before you ask that question,” I said as I continued down the stairs.

“Nope, I’m not going to say more. I want to do something and I’m not one to just let thoughts pass me by. If I have an idea of something in my head, I can’t get it out until I do it,” he said as he pulled me to a stop and stepped on the stair below me. “There were a couple of things that I had wanted to do all night, that fortunate for me, I did. There’s another one, but I need your permission first. I want to do it to prove a point and mockingly confirm a statement you made about me,” he said with his big ass grin.

“Well, since you put it that way, I’m going to have to say… no.” I let my lips form the O for a longer time than necessary to mock him.

He evaluated me for a few seconds before responding.

“Why would you say no?” he asked.

“Well, I can’t be that easy with you now, can I? What if you run out of things you want to do and get bored?” I asked.

“Oh Brecken, do you ever watch old movies?” I shook my head. “Well, you’re missing out. In old movies the guy always has some romantic, cheesy as hell thing to say before he sweeps the woman off her feet. For instance, at this moment after your comment I would choose to say, I don’t think I could ever get bored with you,” he said with softness and an over-exaggerated lift of his eyebrows before he leaned down and picked me up to carry me. On instinct, I grabbed around his neck to balance myself and realized we now looked very cheesy. His smile didn't help matters. His pride in holding me in such a primitive position filled his face.

“What are you doing?” I asked with a squeal. I never squealed—this was getting ridiculous.

“Well milady, I’m wooing you. Do you feel wooed right now?” he asked.

“I feel something,” I said.

“That you do Brecken,” he said with a laugh.

He turned to walk down the stairs and pinched my ass before laughing an almost giggle. I didn’t squirm because it would be fucking stupid to try to squirm out of his arms while he carried me down stairs. When he reached the last one though, I maneuvered myself to give him a strong enough shove to the chest, but not hurt him.

He was laughing so hard I couldn’t be mad or annoyed.

“Was that Prince Charming enough?” he asked as he set me down.

“Hardly, that was more a parody of him.” I laughed and stepped away from him so quick he wasn’t expecting it. I righted my dress and put it in line. “Come on Blake, what’s taking you so long? I have to get home.” I snapped my fingers to get him moving.

“Maybe I’m trying to prolong the inevitable here. I’m not ready to say good night to you,” he said with a shy smile. “I mean, yes you’re hot and amazing. But you’re different.”

“Different?” I asked with a raise of my brow.

“Yeah, different. You’re amazing and so fucking awesome; I turn into an asshole just being near you." I raised an eyebrow in question and he shrugged with a shy smile. "It's true. It's a self- fulfilling prophecy I guess. Well, a Brecken fulfilling prophecy. You expect an asshole and I become one."

“Damn, you’re honest." I laughed. I looked into his eyes with a tilt to my head. "A Brecken fulfilling prophecy—that's laughable. I didn't realize I had that much pull in the universe."

"You'd be surprised Brecken," he said with a smile as he held the door for me.

We stepped outside and the crisp night breeze met us in the abandoned street. The street's cavern of buildings was quiet and such a change to the chatter of the art gallery. There was not a sound and no car drove past us.

As we rounded the corner of the building we saw the new graffiti that Wynn and Karl mentioned. It lacked a clean-edged font, and the image behind it looked more fluid as the words interwove with the painting.

“Wow, he put so many details into that microphone,” Blake said. “Was this here when you parked?” he asked.

The awareness within the picture was dumbfounding. “No, it wasn’t. I would have noticed it, because I’ve been following all of his tags like everyone else. But that’s amazing. We keep calling him a he—he could be a she,” I said with a wink before I looked back at the painting.

The painted microphone looked as if music flowed into it as the bright colors traced along one another. I knew it represented music though the artist didn’t use the usual musical notes to portray the idea of music. They didn’t have to because the music in that painting penetrated my ears without a sound. It was breathtaking.
What makes you feel alive?
The paintings always posed the questions the artist wanted each of us to ask.

Blake let go of my hand and I stepped closer to the painting, lifting my hand to it, but afraid to move the last few inches to touch it. I didn’t want to take the last step to reach out to it. It was as if this inner pull was beating inside me much in the same way a drum does.

The thump, thump, thump of the awakening one feels when they understand what they are on this rock to do. It reminded me of when I first played drums.
Passion.
The painting depicted passion in its rawest form—the desire to achieve more, be more, and experience more in life.
Passion is the driving force in each of those. In each of us.

Blake left my side to give me my space as I looked at the painting and tears formed in my eyes. I never experienced that much emotion with art before tonight. I stood there for several moments taking it in, before Blake returned to my side. He put one of his hands atop my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, “Hey are you all right?”