Envisioning my mother singing Kermit the Frog's Rainbow Connection cheered me up. On the inside, I was nothing more than an eight-year-old boy. For the past week, I'd been listening to the song until I was back to my "bubbly self," as Memphis put it.
It wasn't just the Rainbow Connection that cheered me up. While Levi's words may have contributed to my recent bout of depression (i.e. asking me how my parents died), he also lifted me out of it. We often texted each other and had breakfast together in between the many rehearsals. Sometimes we went out; other times I made him breakfast at the house. I didn't care what Aunt Ruth said. She didn't want to hear that Levi was more than a tenant.
Tonight I looked forward to going out for Chinese food. I hadn't had a good scorpion bowl in a long time. By now, I should have been used to seeing Levi, but I still stressed over what to wear as if I needed to make a good impression when I knew he already liked me. I decided on a purple button down shirt and dark blue skinny jeans.
After one knock, Levi opened his door, dressed in a gray henley sweater and jeans, his wavy hair flopping over the left side of his face and over his glasses.
"Wow... you look... you look beautiful," Levi said.
"Shut up," I said, rubbing my burning cheeks as if that would make the redness disappear. "You ready?"
"Yeah," he said, locking his apartment door.
"You don't look so bad yourself."
Music was always a topic of conversation. In only a week, I'd make my premier in front of three hundred people near the Berklee University campus. I bet the place would be filled with Berklee students and alumni.
Three days after the concert, I was heading into a music studio with the band to record a few songs. They also planned on shooting a music video with the help of Memphis's girlfriend who majored in video production. She was responsible for most of the videos, with the exception of Levi's instructional videos. He did those himself.
Over dinner, Levi stuck to beer while I divulged on a scorpion bowl that was more than enough alcohol for two people. As we ate and drank, Levi told me all about the history of his band and their trials and tribulations over the years. Part of the reason Levi lived in his sister's basement was because he traveled a lot with the band while also going to school. Convinced Imperfect was on the brink of their big break, Levi resented their former friend and frontman for abandoning them. Each band member fell into a funk and they barely spoke to each other for months.
"How do you know I won't ditch you guys, too?" I asked.
"I don't know," he responded. "I hope you don't. You're a better singer than Dominic."
Dominic Sanchez was their former lead singer who transitioned from Indie rock to pop music. I didn't follow pop music, so I hadn't heard of him. Apparently, he was considered an up and coming star and had scored some radio time.
Feeling pretty good after a scorpion bowl, I asked Levi to drive my car home. He had only had one beer all night. I wasn't ready to say goodnight... and neither was Levi.
"Come in for a drink," he said. "You don't have to worry about driving home. You only live a few feet away."
Without hesitation, I went with him. While Levi opened a bottle of wine, I searched through his record collection, settling on Otis Reading.
As Try a Little Tenderness started, I sat on the couch and accepted the glass of red wine. Between the scorpion bowl, wine, and Otis Reading, I was relaxed and comfortable, relieved that Levi made the first move, scooting closer to me. His knee bounced against mine as he brought his arm around my waist. Every part of my body wanted him. The temptation was too great. I put my glass down and kissed his mouth.
YOU ARE READING
A Song for Ezra (ONC 2021)(manxman)✅
General FictionONC 2021 SHORTLISTER. An orphan at ten years old, Ezra Green spends the next fifteen years guilt-stricken and yearning to be with his parents again. In addition to the guilt and sense of abandonment, a mental health disorder affects his life in a w...