Dreams

3

Carolina.

She pulls her black scarf a little tighter around her neck as she watches Stevie approach the front door through the glass window in the middle of it. Its warm today for January, but thanks to Jackson and his stupid mouth she'll have to keep it around her neck the whole time.

"Hello, Carolina," Stevie smiles as she swings the door open. Carolina wonders how long she'll be able to stand it until she has to correct her on the way her name is pronounced. Surely her assistant told her its like the state, and not whatever this weird Leena thing is. "Thank you for being on time."

The way she says it irks her. This woman doesn't know her - why would she assume she's ever late? She gives Stevie a tight lipped smile and nods. She doesn't want to fight with her, not this early. "Yea, no problem. Do you think you'll stick with evening rehearsals going forward?"

"Yes," Stevie nods as she leads her into the back room of the house - the area she's coined as her studio, "I'm nocturnal, so I sleep the first part of the day. Evening is the only time that will work for me."

"Great," Carolina nods, feeling a little relief. At least she won't have to change her sleep schedule. "That schedule aligns well with my own habits."

"Do you play?" Stevie asks as she points to the white grand piano in the middle of the room. Carolina's eyes widen with excitement; its been years since she's been able to play a Steinway grand. Her upright is fine for now, but she can't wait until she can afford her forever piano.

"Yea," she says more casually than she means to. "I can do alright on one."

"Play me your favorite song you didn't write, and then play me your favorite song you did."

Carolina can tell by the hand on her hip and the bite in her voice that this is a challenge, not an invitation to bond. She can't play her Bach. She wouldn't care. She thinks for a moment, and then she breaks into "Wild World". Its not her favorite, per say, but it's one of the songs she learned on and so it has a special place.

"That was boring," Stevie laughs as Carolina finishes the song. "Technical skill - you've got it. But you look like a dead fish when you play. Let me hear something you wrote."

Carolina closes her eyes and counts to ten before she starts her own song. She breaks into the first verse, singing under her breath so Stevie can hear her play.

"You can sing it," Stevie encourages her as she stands at the edge of the piano.

Carolina takes a deep breath and exhales it out her mouth as she leads herself into the chorus.

'Cause all that remains has gone up in flames
Only your ghost surrounds me
We were covered in rain, I've forgotten my name
You blinded me
I'm just a shell of who I was before
I'm just a shell of who I was before

"Who broke your heart?" Stevie asks as she presses a hand into the air, stopping her from continuing.

"No one," Carolina laughs quietly, shrugging her shoulders up to her ears. She's not about to tell this half crazed woman her story.

"Bullshit," Stevie shakes her head, "I wrote that song in 1977, honey. Different lyrics, but same song. Not bad."

Carolina rests her hands on the keys and looks out the window. She won't be able to take this patronizing for long before she snaps at her. "Is that all you wanted?"

"Yes," Stevie nods, "now I know better than to hand you any covers. They dull your soul."

"Ok... sure." Carolina doesn't really know what she's talking about, but she doesn't think it was an insult. "I don't do covers in my sets anymore, I'm not a bar band."