Star by Eliza Witte - HTML preview

51

In the rehearsal room Stu finally felt safe. What a day! Anyway, once they started working, he’d forget it. Music was his hideaway and he appreciated greatly that the others understood it. He was 8 years old when he realized for the first time that music could be his sanctuary. With his father constantly on business trips and his mother constantly looking well at the next feminists’ convention he was actually raised by his aunt – an old maid who happened to possess an exquisite taste for music. And while he was spending his 8th birthday with her as his parents were again too busy to organize a birthday party for him he got his first piano lesson with his aunt being his tutor. She had passed on to him her passion as easily and naturally as it could be as well as to assuage his emotional state of a neglected child through the simple tune they tried on four hands. The evening became one of the most beautiful in Stu’s life. And when they finally performed the tune with no mistakes his aunt told him that from then on the piano would be his and his only. This was his birthday present and it changed his entire life.

Now Stu was checking the sound system while waiting for his peers to come. Yes, once they started working, everything would become much better. Unfortunately, things didn’t come out exactly as planned. When Bob and John barged in through the door it became clear that they both had had a bad day too.

‘Stu, what’s the alarm all about? The games just finished. I’m dead tired,’ grumbled Bob.

‘I had a tough break with my dad. Life sucks,’ complained John.

Unlike them, when Chris entered he was in a good mood, ‘Haya, guys, what are we doing today?’

‘Look at him – full of enthusiasm,’ snarled Bob again.

‘I ignored the games! Ain’t I smart?’ replied Chris and headed straight for the drum-kit.

Stu didn’t listen to them. He was fixing the microphones when he announced, ‘I’ve got something new! I’d like us to try it today.’

‘Do we really have to do it today? Today of all days?’ Bob snapped.

Instead of answering him, Stu left some paper on the piano and said, ‘I've notated the basics and made photocopies for everyone. Piano and rhythm-guitar parts are ready.

Percussions are up to Chris. John, you’ll be catching up with the bass as usual.’

Bob wasn’t too eager to go along with it.

‘How’s it called?’

‘The World’s In Your Eyes’

‘Stu’s messed up with a chick again,’ rapturously noted Chris and gave a test-beat on the drums.

‘Look, folks, I don’t wanna work today,’ Bob wailed. ‘I said it loud and clear. Stu, who the heck do you think you are? A general or something?’