Music, to Stefani, was both a shared experience and something totally private. It was what she loved, the fact it could serve as individual catharsis and and a unification of people from varying walks of life. She'd played before audiences of one and crowds of thousands and the intimacy was there, no matter what, the connection remained.
It wasn't her intention to play beside Bradley, but there was something absolutely correct about the action, too, as if the sequence of events was playing out exactly as it should.
She doesn't have the emotional space to reflect back upon the dream that had begun the entire odd, confusing journey, to consider what's happening right before her eyes, so instead, she plays.
There's no pause to ask him if there's anything in particular he wants to hear or if she should stop and in return, he's silent as well. When she sneaks a sideways glance at him, his eyes are tightly shut and his knuckles are white from the tight grip he has on the piano. He's on this ride, for better or for worse and she's dizzy with the way he willingly went forward with it, no questions asked.
She only stops when her finger tips are too sore to go on, her voice hoarse from singing. The silence as the final note fades away is large and she's tempted to fill it with nervous chatter.
Instead, she's compelled to rest her chin in her hands, turn her eyes bravely up towards him.
His eyes slowly open, a shocking, electric shade of blue and for a minute, they hold each other's gaze.
"Hi."
The sound that emerges from him is a little tight, calloused and rough around the edges and there's something in it that makes her throat constrict without warning.
"Hi."
"I'm so stupid," he rushes in. The embarrassment is written all over his face. "I should've known---especially since we've met before. Sorry, I can be such a dimwit sometimes."
The redness that's crept into his cheeks is endearing and immediately, she shakes her head.
"Oh, my God, no worries whatsoever! It was a long time ago and we barely exchanged "hellos". I wouldn't expect you to remember."
"You're being modest and honestly, I'm an asshole." Bradley takes a deep breath. "Maybe we can start over. Hi, I'm Bradley. Nice to meet you."
She takes his out stretched hand for the second time that evening and there's that feeling again, that electric spark, only in this instance, she's prepared for it.
"Stefani. Nice to meet you."
His eyes are warm. "Jennifer has no idea what she's in for. She's going to lose her mind. Your voice," he explains hastily, swiping a hand down over his mouth. "It's incredible."
Somehow, his compliment makes her blush. "Thank you. And I'm actually really looking forward to performing. Jennifer's so sweet and full disclosure...I could use the distraction."
She doesn't know what compels her to be so forthcoming, but he nods, studying her.
"I had a feeling."
Surprised, her chin juts. "You did?"
"Don't ask me how. I just...knew, I guess. That you're going through something."
It's a statement that normally would've at least vaguely made her wary and he recognizes it, blanching.
"I know how that sounds. Jesus, I keep sticking my foot in my mouth, don't I?"
"No, no." Stefani bites her lip, focusing on the sting it produces. "I get it."
She's tempted to let everything spill over; the way she's virtually thought of nothing else since their paths crossed, the dream, in its entirety, the way her relationship feels like it's hanging on by the barest of threads. The words sit right there, dangling at the edge.
YOU ARE READING
Invisible String
Hayran KurguLegend says there is an intangible string of fate that binds two souls destined to be together. Those connected are bound no matter the time, place or circumstance.