Page 9 of The Baritone's Rival

Trent tried not to react, but his disdain must have shown on his face, because Oscar smirked at him.

“What? You never know when you’ll find yourself in a three-way in a remote, lube-less location.”

Oscar finally pulled out his copy of the duet. It was banged up and much worse for wear. He dragged a music stand over from the wall, setting up next to Trent. Trent’s blood pressure rose as Oscar took yet more time to smooth out his score.

After he was done, Oscar looked over at him.

“Wow. You are big.”

“What?” Trent blushed and was immediately frustrated with himself for the unconscious response. It’s not like people hadn’t been saying things like that to him for his whole life.

“Did you play football? You areverybroad-shouldered. And blonde.”

Trentwasbroader than Oscar. He’d been a big sports guy in high school, and although he didn’t play anymore, he had kept up the linebacker physique.

“I...I’m not sure what my hair color has to do with playing football.”

“It’s the final piece in the Midwestern corn-fed puzzle.” Oscar winked at him.

Trent was not having this. Absolutely not. No amount of flirting would make up for the fact that he’d kept them waiting, wasstillkeeping them waiting.

“Can we sing?” Trent locked eyes with his teacher, sending psychic vibes for him tomove this along, but Anthony just sat there with an amused look on his face.

“Oh, of course, doll. Let’s jump in.” Oscar reached out and patted Trent on the arm. Trent pulled away.

“I’m not your?—”

Trent’s sullen response was cut off by Julie’s loud attack on the introduction. If she was trying to shut everyone up, it worked. Trent took a deep breath. He wanted the same, after all.

He started the recitative, the speech-like portion that preceded the aria proper. He was Rodrigo, reuniting with his best friend Don Carlo after a long separation. Despite the passion baked into the words, the melody dribbled limply from Trent’s lips. He couldn’t find the pulse of it. He couldn’t express the fire that he knew should be there.

Oscar wasn’t doing any better. His brows were furrowed with concentration in a way that Trent would have found cute in a less annoying person. He kept his eyes glued to the page, and when he wasn’t singing, he unconsciously chewed his bottom lip. This was the first time Trent had been near Oscar for an extended period, and it was definitely the first time he’d seen Oscar try to be serious.

As they neared the end of the section, both Trent and Oscar turned to Anthony, the unspoken frustration thick in the room. Anthony, though, just smiled and gestured for them to keep going.

Then something changed. They hit the meat of the song. The accompaniment rhythm shifted, became more energetic, and the two of them leaned into the harmony, pledging themselves to the cause of liberty and friendship, and to each other.

Dio che nell’alma infondere

Amor volesti e speme,

Desio nel core accendere

Tu déi di libertà.

God, who instills

love and hope in our souls,

kindle within our hearts

a desire for liberty.

Trent and Oscar were no longer singingateach other, no longer struggling to connect. They were in exact matching rhythm, their tones blended, their tuning perfect. But more than the musicianship, electricity flowed between them. It was the connection the music needed.

Their voices soared as the song built, pouring out sound and emotion into the tiny room as they reached the climax.

Insiem vivremo, e moriremo insieme!

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