"Over there-" The assistant manager of the orchestra ushered me to the back of the studio, where chairs sat aligned. A few of the musicians, vocalists and instrumentalists were sitting there.
Most of them seemed friendly with each other, exchanging greetings and making small talk. I brushed back my skirt, smoothing the folds of the fabric before taking a seat. I glanced around the room, awaiting instructions.
A few moments pass before the conductor hands us out several music sheets, the room quiets down for a split second, then the chatter rises once again.
My eyes scan the paper, trying to keep myself busy to escape the awkwardness of sitting alone silence.
A young man slides on the empty seat next to me, music sheet clutched in hand. I could see him through my peripheral vision. He sat up straight and kept glancing around restlessly, immediately starting a conversation with the people around him.
I tried my best to tune them out, but my ears betrayed me.
"It'd be a real pity if they don't have me do the opening next week" The man next to me says
"I damn sure hope they don't" One girl joked
"Yeah! Stop hogging the stage Sinatra" Another girl's voice rang out, she shoved him playfully. I glanced up at her curiously, watching her flutter her lashes at him.
'Sinatra? sounds Italian' I thought to myself
"Watch it, girls" He told them "Don't think I don't see you two swooning backstage over 'this'" He said as he stroked his throat, leaving them giggling like a bunch of school girls.
'Yeah right. goofball' I snorted
As more people filed in and the seats began to fill up, we were ordered to huddle closer together in order to make more space. Everybody began to move and suddenly, I felt a pair of firm legs press sideways against mine. I immediately look down.
I saw my own two knees. plus one.
I felt the heat rise to my neck, fully aware of how close this stranger or may I say 'SINATRA' was to me. I took a deep breath, and I was greeted with the scent of pure lavender soap, with a tinge of cinnamon spice.
I turn my head towards him, not expecting him to be so close to me. He whipped his head towards me and when our eyes met, time stopped.
I forgot how to breathe. God he was so beautiful.
Brown locks of hair brushed up neatly, his chiseled jaw and sharp nose. My eyes took it all in. High, defined cheekbones and plump lips. I could go on forever.
His deep, blue eyes glimmered, blue orbs burning like fire into mine. There was something missing in them, it was like they were permanently absent-minded, like they can't quite remember who they are. They look at the sky too much. They lose touch with-
"Hello" He suddenly says, snapping me out to reality with a gentle, boyish voice.
"My name is Frank Sinatra" He introduces himself sheepishly, sticking out his hand to me.
I swallow the lump in my throat and shake his hand politely.
"Maude. Pleasure to meet you" I say, feeling his firm hands envelop mine. His thumb strokes my knuckle twice as he pulls his hand away.
"Do you sing here?" He asks with a calm and tender expression on his face.
"Oh yes" I nod "I'm one of the vocalists, actually" I smile
"Swell! Me too!" He exclaims with wide eyes, inching his body closer to mine. "We'll be seeing more of each other then, won't we?" He rests a hand on his knee, and I can feel the tip of one of his fingers lay against my own knee.
I shiver at the contact, not budging an inch.
"Yeah. Yeah I guess we will"
