dissonance. (a Böhme novel) (12 page)

He leaned to my ear and his breath danced across my neck, “You'll do great. But remember, I’m out here watching and quietly judging you.” He laughed a quiet laugh before gently kissing right on my elephant tattoo behind my ear.

I gave him a fake shocked expression as I elbowed him in the gut. “Fuck you.” I mouthed with a smile before turning to walk away. I paused mid-step and looked at him over my shoulder before I kissed the palm of my hand and slapped my ass. Yeah it was tacky, but the expression I got from him was totally worth it.

I took the stage and looked to Blake and only him. His eyes met mine, and I had a flashback to last night when I played drums and our eyes had met, but tonight neither of us denied the draw between us. I didn’t look away and neither did he.

The writer asked this question of themselves every day. There is guilt associated with failure and in some circumstances, failure is measurable. One doesn’t reach the finish line first, so they failed to win. But they were not a failure, because they still finished the race.

Does it make one a failure if they are incapable of completing the task?  The writer hoped that the questions did not fall on deaf ears, but how can success and failure be measured?

The horizon filled the painting with blue and purple hues that faded into an orange sunset.

Is giving up the same as failure if you tried your best?

With every step Brecken took, her form fitting dress accentuated her ass even more. She was fucking hot, but she was brilliant and it made her beautiful.
Beautiful—a word I chose never to use
. She was intelligent and strong and fucking amazingly
beautiful
because of it.

Our eyes met briefly as she took the stage and I nodded to her with a smile. She winked at me before she turned to the crowd and took a microphone Mason brought to the stage. He smiled at her and gave a nod as she squeezed his arm and mouthed, “Thank you,” to him. She leaned toward Conall standing next to her and said something that made him laugh as he nodded. He went to each of the guys in his band and told them what I assumed was the song Brecken selected.

After adjusting the microphone to her height, she leaned toward it with a smile. “How y’all doing tonight?” she asked and her husky voice floated across the audience. A few people cheered when she asked and others yelled “Good.” But most of the attendees looked at her as if she were interrupting them.

“Okay…” she said as she let her voice trail. I moved closer to the stage and stood to the side, leaning against the wall. I watched as her eyes moved across the crowd before she found me again.

“So I have this song I used to sing back in the day. It was an anthem for me. As I’m sure it was for every girl going through puberty in the early 90s and possibly
every fucking
girl since that time.” She put her hand up to her mouth as the impact of her f-bomb unfolded. No one looked bothered by it as much as shocked by her over enunciation of it. It finally brought the attention she deserved.

“Okay, that’s better. I figured I'd get a response from you with that. So back to what I was saying—this song came out when I was twelve years old and I wore out the tape because I played it so many times in my walk-man. Yes, I said walk-man. That shows my age, doesn’t it?” She smiled at the crowd as they laughed.

She looked back to me once more. “Now, this song I’m going to sing is dear to me and a friend sent me a video of a cover of it recently, so I'm going to give it a try. Please, be gentle on me; I haven’t sung this in years.” She turned to face the band. “And before we start, I have to thank each of you guys for letting me sing this, I know it's not your usual style. But it’s awesome that you can play it,” she said with her encompassing laugh.

She nodded to Conall as he started to play the opening chords to
What’s Up
by 4 Non Blondes.

She looked over the crowd and a soft smile formed on her face as she let the guitar and drums play out before her time to sing. When she finally did begin to sing, she took more control of the audience than a thousand f-bombs could have taken. Her eyes fell on mine for a moment before she closed hers and lost herself to the song.

I was thankful she gave me the breather I needed. She was so damned intense. I had a need to impress her and I even told her of my whittling. I was a hypocrite. Just earlier today I claimed it had nothing to do with art. Then a few hours later, Brecken only had to ask me a simple question and I'm suddenly an artist.

What the hell was going on with me? I've never had this definite understanding of someone before—that's what was going on with me. I was sure of her and I was sure of us together. There was no doubt in my mind. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to know everything about her, even if it meant that she was a closet collector of creepy ass dolls or some shit. I didn’t care. In fact I’d probably find it cute if she collected creepy ass dolls.

She hypnotized me with her passionate way of singing and my smile grew. As she reached the chorus she opened her eyes and quickly said to the crowd, “Who’s going to sing it with me?” She looked back at me with a tilt of her head as if to ask me to join her and I only shook my head. There was no way I was going to sing—no matter how cute she was.

But many people in the audience did join her. I scanned the crowd and the joy she was bringing to each of their faces as they sang along showed. But as I looked back at her, I understood why she held the attention of every fucking person in the room. She didn’t hide from herself and she opened the door for others to see this part of her and that level of truth was unnerving for people.

“She’s awesome isn’t she?” Emmet asked as he leaned against the wall beside me.

“Yes, she is,” I said in response without taking my eyes off Brecken.

“Not to get weird on you, but she must think you are too,” he said with a laugh.

My head jerked back and looked at him in question. Yeah, that was definitely weird of him to say. Having a conversation about my interest in his sister was archaic. But I assumed he stepped into the role of protector after their father died and this was his way of continuing in the role.

“I’m not going to hurt her if that’s where your concern stems from,” I said with sincerity.

He laughed. “No, I’m not worried about that. In fact, I’m more worried for you. She tends to be a picky person. She's a perfectionist and doesn’t deal well with what she sees as failure. I’m telling you this because you're a good enough guy. I don’t want her to make life hard on you,” he said with a sigh and ran his hand back and forth across his head. “Our parents instilled this need to make sure we never did things half-assed. She's expecting—pretty much waiting and watching—for something shitty to happen. So she’s going to be evaluating everything with a fine-toothed comb, looking for the frayed line, expecting the bottom to drop out.”

I nodded, trying not to be an ass, because he must have needed to say what he was saying. But why?

“Well, I don't plan on failing,” I said, looking back at Brecken as she reached the last repetition of the chorus at the end. She had taken her microphone from the stand while I spoke with her brother and she now let her vocal chords stretch to their limits as she sang.

When the song finished, Conall pulled her into a hug. He dwarfed her and only her one arm wrapped around him was visible as she gave his shoulder a pat.

“With that mindset, you’ll do fine. That is, if you don’t let her convince you to get in the ring with her—both literally and figuratively. She despises losing,” Emmet said with a laugh and a nod as he walked away.

Brecken came up to me and pulled her water from my hand. “Thank you for watching this for me,” she said as she nodded toward me and elbowed my side.

“You are most welcome, Brecken,” I said with a nod in return.

“So how was it? It doesn’t compare to the video you sent me, but it was okay right?” she asked with a grin.

“It was okay. You missed a few notes, but otherwise it was somewhat enjoyable. I mean, everyone else seemed to enjoy it,” I said with a sarcastic smile. “Your brother had some interesting things to share,” I said.

“I noticed that. What’d he say?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He said I should watch myself because you’re a perfectionist and if I fuck up you’ll hold it against me. He mentioned that you snore and only change your socks twice a week, too." I sighed and gave her a reluctant look as if what I was preparing to say pained me. "There were other things, but he suggested I not mention them to you right now,” I said, trying to keep from smiling.

“Hmm, that sounds right. I’m glad he told you these things considering it is our first date,” she said.

“First date? This is a date?” I asked as I squinted at her. “No Brecken, it's not a date. This is us meeting at an art gallery and getting to know each other.” I smiled as I stepped closer to her and let my fingers lightly trace the side of her hand, but I didn't take it.  "But…if I so choose, I will ask you out on a date at the end of this evening..." I let my fingers trace under her palm and then let our fingers intertwine. "If I feel like you’re worthy of one."

“Well, if I feel as if you’re worthy, I might say yes,” she said, pulling my hand toward her and me with it. She turned her body and elbowed me again as Mason came over to talk to us.

“Hey guys,” he said to both of us before looking directly at her. “Brecken, that was awesome. I found that song online once, and I loved the chick’s voice, but I liked your spin on it too. Do you do any originals?” Mason asked.

“No, unfortunately I haven’t written an original song in forever. I don’t believe writing a full song is in my power. But I don’t mind singing what Conall writes. I like his songs; they're better than the covers in Corrosive Underwear,” she said, before finishing the last drink of her water.

“Who came up with that name and what in the hell were they thinking?” I asked with a laugh.

Brecken rolled her eyes as she swayed in place. I noticed her habit of doing that, as if she tried to dance her thoughts from her. “I honestly have no idea, and I’m scared to even ask Jonesie. I imagine he came up with it when he was tripping and decided it profound.” She looked to Mason as if she were trying to teach him the ways of the world and remembered an important piece of information. “Mason, don’t do drugs, okay? It will turn you into a lame musician like Jonesie." She shook her head, clenching her eyes before she continued, "Well, it will cause you to come up with a lame band name at least.”

God, she was amazing. She was all over the place and seeing her in this relaxed way made a growing urge to throw her against the wall and unleash every primal need I owned even more difficult to fight. It didn’t help that she wore a dress that held her up as if she were serving her chest right to me.
Damn it
. I always found myself looking at women’s chests. It happens. But every breath she took just reiterated to me that they were right there, in front of me.

I tried to hide the fact I kept looking; I didn’t want to be seen as eager. I mean I was eager, but I didn’t want to obsess. But damn, they looked tasty. A small spiral tattoo was on the left side of her chest above her heart and it matched the spiral on her car. It was tiny enough to look as if it occurred naturally.

“Blake?” she asked as Mason shoved my arm to get my attention.
Not cool Blake, you zoned out on her chest
.
Way to discredit yourself.

I took a deep breath and blinked as I met her eyes. “Sorry, I zoned out. I woke up early this morning. Yeah, speaking of, my friend and his wife should be here soon,” I said, looking at my phone and hoping I turned the conversation away from my probing eyes.

“You should do a song now since I had to, don’t ya think?” she asked me with a mischievous smile that was fucking sexy.

I had to laugh though. “I’m not getting up there. You don’t want to hear me sing,” I said as I put my phone back in my pocket and shook my head.

“Of course I do, Blake,” she said, smiling at Mason. He stared at her with that pride again as if he was happy to be in her presence. I wondered if I wore the same expression.

“Okay then, what would you like me to sing?” I asked with a proud smile myself because she wanted something from me. When did I become this guy? I wanted to make Brecken happy, and it was ridiculous how easy I gave into her.

“Anything, surprise me. But I’m going to go get another water now. You guys need anything?” she asked as she started to walk away from us. We both shook our heads and watched her turn around. I traced my eyes along her as she walked away and that war inside me raged again. She was killing me.

“Dude, I don't think you're being obvious enough,” Mason said on a laugh.

“You think? I suppose I could lay it on thicker,” I laughed myself, still watching her with intent. I needed that woman.

“You have it bad for her, huh?” he asked.

“Yes, I do. I only met her yesterday and here I am getting ready to go sing on stage because she asked it of me. This isn’t usually my style. What the fuck am I doing?” I sighed as I put my hands atop my head. “I can’t sing. I don’t even do karaoke. Why did I agree to this?”