Through Chrissie's eyes

Shy Musicians

After deciding where we were going, we went in the boys' van, Roger took the wheel and Jo went by his side, to show the way. I went behind, between Tim and Brian, and my old discomfort at being among strangers returned. Now it was too late to go back, and I decided to face the challenge I set for myself.

Maybe if we found something to talk about, it would end that awkward silence. But I didn't dare start talking. I continued to pay attention to the road ahead of us, every now and then, looking at Tim and Brian covertly. I noticed that Brian was watching the sky, as if it were much more interesting than the road. And it really was, the sky was beautiful that night. Far from civilization, the stars seemed brighter and closer to us.

Suddenly, I had the idea of using what I perceived from the sky as a subject and saying what I had just thought, but I thought it would sound so stupid to speak about the sky ... I turned to face the road in front of me, getting used to the silence.

"Is anyone alive there?" Said Roger, asking and laughing soon after.

"You're so annoying Roger ..." Brian complained beside me.

"Did you take the night to reproach me Brian?" The drummer shrugged.

"Only when you take the night to tease me," the guitarist replied what I would answer."

"You're so quiet back there," Jo mused, explaining her boyfriend's joke.

"I understood," I replied, before she teased me.

"That's the tiredness and hunger that kept us silent" Tim defended us "is it take to long to get there?"

"Not too much now," Jo promised, "hold on just a little longer."

Another 10 minutes of silent drive and finally we arrived. Taking a quick look at the menu, we ordered a large Calabrian pizza, already wondering if we would need to order another one afterwards.
We sat down and soon another moment of silence came as we waited for our dinner. Jo and Roger kept talking softly and pouting in a sappy way, which made me sick if I paid too much attention.

Well, if the sky was a silly thing to talk about it, maybe now would be a good time to ask something that surely the boys would know how to answer.

"Hum ..." I said, staring at the table, my hair covering my face, and I was sitting between Brian and Tim again "who composes the songs you sing? You guys, other people? I ... I was curious to know, after seeing the show."

It seemed to light up the boys, but Roger was still busy, distracted by Jo.

"We're the ones who compose," Tim replied. "We have an idea, we record and we put the notes, the rhythms, the solos when we come together to rehearse."

"It's a very interesting hobby" now I was looking at the vocalist "no flattery, you are very talented, you have great lyrics in your songs".

"Look who started to talk ..." Jo insisted.

"You know I'm shy, Joanne." I rolled my eyes at her.

From my other side, I saw Brian trying to say something, that same difficulty I had.

"Is there ..." he looked at me, but then he looked away, scratching his head, and turning his arm to the table, being careful not to bump into me "some song that ... you liked it more?"

"Now that you mencioned" now I felt comfortable to talk "there's one in particular, it's one of the slowest ... I only know the lyrics ... I don't know, it made me remember my own life, it's weird , I know, but that's how I felt."

"Which song?" I felt Brian's attention stand up "if you don't mind singing, or, talk about what you remember.

"Huh, I'm not a good singer" I lowered my eyes feeling shame again "but it was like, "Yesterday my life was in ruin, now today I know what I'm doing, I have a feeling I'll should be doing all right". Then you three make a chorus "doing all right" ..."

I ended up singing the last part on impulse, and I felt my face blush.

"That one's mine and Brian's," Tim explained, "but I never imagined anyone would like it as much as you did."

"Where's your self-respect, Tim?" Roger asked.

"But it's good Tim," Brian assured him, a little shy. "I'm not saying that because we're the ones who wrote it."

"Well if you don't mind" I said, not wanting to repeat the guitarist's question "what does this song means anyway?"

"Well the official name is Doing All Right" Brian corrected me gently, and I realized that he was a bit methodical when it came to music "and I kind of thought about my life, I study a lot and I still have the band, and you know when you think you don't know what's going to happen in the future ... Music is my way of remembering that everything will be alright."

"Yeah Chrissie, now I understand why you identified with it," Jo said, as well as when I thought she wasn't even paying attention "you also study too much and think too much in the future."

"And what's wrong with that?" I had to fight back, my voice a little louder and more irritated.

"Wow, you're just like Brian" Tim commented, but I didn't feel bad about his comment.

"Don't care about them Chrissie, they're always like that," the guitarist looked at me with a little sadness.

When I saw those sad eyes, I recognized the same thing I felt when someone thought I was strange because I was the way I was. My instinct was to defend him, I couldn't let someone like me go through something that I knew full well that was horrible.

I tried not to get off the subject of music.

"How long have you played the guitar?" Was the question I could think of.

"Ah, since I was seven," he told me with embarrassment, but I realized he was getting carried away with the subject "I won a guitar from my father, he played the piano and ukulele, but the guitar was my passion."

"You play very well," I praised with all my heart, "you know, there were times when the sound was so soft during the songs, so different, but very good ..."

"Actually my guitar ..." Brian's eyes lit up, preparing to tell a story.

But the enthusiastic guitarist was interrupted by the pizza.

"Just in time," Roger said, "I couldn't stand hearing Brian speak."

Brian only grimaced at his friend and gestured for me to serve me first. I was glad he was kind to me and I could help him feel better.