Page 26 of Feral Touch
I wasn’t.
CHAPTER 6
IDOUBLE-ANDtriple-checked the job posting, making sure I had the right address. I didn’t want to show up at the wrong building and miss my audition time. LuxurEvents was holding auditions at their office downtown. I would have had to lug my cello downtown for class if I hadn’t skipped it for the audition, so it wasn’t that much of an inconvenience. Still, every time I hauled my cello up and down subway station stairs, some small part of me wished I had taken up the flute instead.
A piece of paper was stuck to the building door to let applicants know they were in the right place. I pushed open the door to find a couple dozen other musicians with their instruments waiting in a vast reception area. I was a bit taken aback; I hadn’t thought there would be so much competition. I supposed jobs for classical musicians were hard to come by.
I quickly zoomed in on the applicants with cello cases. There were seven others ranging from late teens to early forties. I couldn’t tell how talented they were just from looking at them, but I still wanted to size up my competition. They all had serious expressions on their faces, some with slight frowns on their lips. Worried? Nervous? We probably all were.
My own nerves threatened to act up, but I kept on reminding myself that I was just as good, if not better, than any of the musicians here. My professors thought so, and they were world-renowned.
I just had to make sure thoughts of a certain handsome rock star didn’t intrude while I was playing.
Ren had been messaging me ever since I skipped out on our date. He must have realized I was upset, because he kept apologizing and telling me it would never happen again, that if fans approached him the next time we went out together, he would tell them no.
That’s not what I wanted, though. I couldn’t pretend Ren wasn’t famous. Of course he had to be friendly to his fans—they were the whole reason Feral Silence was so popular. Their support was what helped the guys get to where they were.
No, I wasn’t upset he had ignored me for his fans. I had simply been reminded of my place. I wasn’t the rock star girlfriend type.
But Iwasthe kick-ass cellist type.
When they called my name, I entered the audition room with my head held high. Two women and a man sat at a small table, chatting quietly to each other. All three wore chic, professional outfits, the women with flawlessly applied makeup and the man with carefully coiffed hair. It would have been almost intimidating if it wasn’t for their ages. They looked only a few years older than me, barely out of college. I wondered if maybe the company left the hiring up to the interns.
I approached the single chair in the middle of the open room. They asked what I would be playing and I told them the Boccherini Concerto in B flat Major. They nodded, but didn’t look impressed or surprised, so I assumed they didn’t know a lot about classical music. I’d just have to hope they liked the piece on its own merits and not its reputation.
I took my cello out of its case and sat, placing it between my legs. I’ve heard enough ‘between your legs’ jokes to last a lifetime. Thankfully the events people were too professional to make any such comments.
The music came to me easily, notes flowing from my fingers through the bow to the strings, sweet sounds echoing in the room. I closed my eyes as I played, not wanting distractions. I just let the music flow through me, letting it fill me to the brim, letting it wash away all my worries, all my doubts. Nothing existed for me in those moments except for the music.
I swept my bow over the string one last time and relaxed my fingers. When I cracked my eyes open, I found wide eyes and smiling faces. They looked impressed now.
They thanked me and said they would let me know their decision within a week. I made sure they had my correct contact information on file before leaving. It would suck if a typo in my phone number cost me the job.
I suppressed a grin as I left the audition room, not wanting to gloat in front of the job seekers who had yet to be called in. The moment I hit the sidewalk, though, I couldn’t help but laugh in relief. That had been one of my best performances in a long time—even better than some of the stuff I’d played for school exams.
I took in a deep breath of brisk air, sighing happily. So what if I wasn’t gorgeous or trendy or famous? I would always have music and performance and I was damn good at them. When I drew that bow across those strings, I became something bigger than myself.I wasn’t just Ivy the music geek. I could wring emotions from an audience’s chest, make their breath stop in their throats, force their hearts to swell and burst.
When I played my cello,Iwas the one who was amazing.
“And where have you been?”
I’d tried to sneak into my bedroom unseen after my audition, but no such luck. It was almost like Jen and Nat had been waiting for me in the living room.
“Hey guys.” I aimed for nonchalance. “What’s up?”
“You had a date with a rock star and haven’t told us any of the details yet, that’s what’s up,” Jen continued.
I turned around to hang up my jacket, hiding a grimace. I hadn’t wanted to tell the girls about my date with Ren, if it could even be called a date. It was just two friends meeting up for coffee, and having it cut short by fangirls.
I felt disappointed. I felt let down. I knew it wasn't Ren's fault, but I doubted we'd see each other again. There was just too much distance between the two of us.
Besides, I had other things to worry about, like studying and practicing and part-time jobs. I didn't have time for boys, and I especially didn't have time for a boy who caused so much doubt and conflict inside me.
I had never doubted myself, not once, until I met Ren again. I didn't like the person I was turning into.
I shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing. “Not much to tell. We got coffee, talked a bit. It was nice.”
“Nice?” Natalie looked flabbergasted. “I don’t think the wordniceis even allowed to be in your vocabulary when talking about one of the members of Feral Silence.”
