A Taste of Candor

Chapter 3

~Declan.

As I made my way to the office for the musician's guild that afternoon, I enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the breeze coming from the sea. Silverport was a lovely town full of opportunities and wonderful people. I'd only been there for just about a month, but I could already draw that conclusion with certainty.

I shifted my weighty saxophone case to my other hand as I waited at a crosswalk. I'd called the office before heading out, and they'd told me to bring my instrument along for an audition of sorts. As long as they didn't call for me to play something overly technical, and as long as I didn't happen to pull out a squeaky reed, I thought I had a good chance of getting accepted into the guild.

Though most people I passed on the sidewalk gave me pleasant smiles and dipped their heads in acknowledgement, I couldn't help but notice those who differed. A few wearing fancy clothes and expensive jewelry eyed me with disdain, as if I didn't deserve to walk the same streets as they did. After all, I was a Candorian man in Lymar country, and my people had lost the recent war. And my people had been the instigators, so I could understand to some extent, but not all Candorians were responsible for what had happened.

At any rate, I finally found myself before the handsome double doors to the musician guild's office. I took in a deep breath, straightened the collar of my polo shirt, and pushed my way in with my elbow.

The balding man at the front desk craned his neck forward when I entered, and a smile pulled at his lips. He adjusted his comically small glasses to sit farther back on his large nose and cleared his throat.

"Good afternoon, sir, what can I do for you?" the man asked kindly.

I set my saxophone case down and blinked. "I'm interested in joining the guild."

"Is that so? You're a striking young man; I can see you doing just fine as a freelancer."

"I tried that, sir." I said with a nervous laugh, "Yeah ... I need help building roots in this town."

"Well, then the guild is at your service." the man replied while gathering a few scattered papers on his desk. He stacked them together neatly and handed them to me with a pen while pointing leftward to a warmly lit lounge area I hadn't noticed before. "Fill out as much as you can of that application, and then hand it back to me. Don't worry if you can't answer everything; I can't remember the last time somebody could."

I smiled. "Alright, thank you, sir."

So I settled down on an armchair in the vacant lounge room and worked away at filling out the empty spaces in the application I could. Obviously, the basic information such as my name, address, telephone number, instrument, and so on was easy to put down. Where I found myself beginning to get nervous was when questions began to be asked about references, and about my past work history.

I considered mentioning the fact I'd played in Nuri Justice's band for a short time, but that fact carried as much negativity as it added in my favor. There was no telling if the guild would take greater notice of the fact he'd noticed me, or the fact he'd fired me. After some consideration, I opted not to say anything of my past and simply let my present skills speak for themselves, for better or worse.

After I finished filling out what I could, I headed back over and handed the papers to the kind man at the front desk. He peered at the information over his tiny glasses and nodded vigorously the whole time. Then he smiled, rose to his full height, and ushered me to a back room where he explained auditions were held.

The man left me in a waiting area with five other men who held various instruments in their hands and quietly warmed up. Three of them practiced dazzling trumpet lines that wove through the whole ranges of their horns, while another quietly strummed a guitar. The last acknowledged me with a pleasant nod as he adjusted the strap around his neck. He also played saxophone, but his was the smaller alto.