“She can’t have the part,”
Johnathan said from behind me.
I didn’t sit up or answer him;
I did note that I would have usually been scared by his sudden appearance, but
I reasoned it had been expected. Surprises seemed to be his forte.
“You’re the only one who can be
the lead,” he said, sitting beside me on the piano bench.
Shifting my head to see his
silhouette, I said, “That still doesn’t make sense. If people were born to play
roles there’d never be the cookie-cutter actors crapped from art schools.”
“They have always been around.”
“So what’s different about
this?” I asked wearily, sitting up again. My tantrum at the keys seemed to have
drained my energy.
“The role is more demanding in
its original form than most people would think. Only a certain person can
fulfill its demands.”
“And I’m that person?” His
head—the features slowly becoming more distinct through the blackness—nodded
and I asked what I hadn’t realized I’d wanted to know: “How can you be
certain?”
“Because I am. I knew the
moment I first saw you, though I wasn’t so sure, then. You were so unlike what
I’d imagined.”
“How so?”
“I believe you already know
how. Shall we begin?”
“What?”
Johnathan reached out and
pulled a cord and a small lamp on the piano revealed sheet music on the ledge.
“This is a copy of the third
song. This doesn’t have all the dialogue that’s between the sections.”
“Why a copy?”
“Because the original is
delicate; it’s too old to be handled much.”
“Oh.”
“Shall we begin?” he repeated,
stretching out his fingers.
“I can’t read sheet music, you
know.”
“All the better,” he said in
his calm way, playing the opening measures. “The accompaniment is meant to be a
helping hand, not a leading force.”
“But—”
“Just feel the music and sing
the lyrics. I’ll sing Irial’s part.”
“So her name is Collette? That’s
pretty.”
The music ceased and he turned
to face me. “You’re Collette. You embody her spirit, her dilemma, her
personality.”
“I know.”
“Good. Now sing.”
“Only if you swear you’ll tell
Carmen why she didn’t get the lead.” Nothing I could do would sway him or fix
things with her; he had to at least fix what he’d helped spoil.
“Tomorrow. Now sing.”
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