Music for the Soul (Calum Hood)

Chapter 1

Cal had officially decided his soulmate sucked. Who in their right mind played the cello at all hours of the night, especially some fucking irish dancing sounding tune? Sure, the way the music skipped and danced, seemingly alive was beautiful, but at 2am? On a night when Cal had an early tour promo the next day? Hell, the only reason he'd be interested in finding her would to tell her that this shit wasn't okay. Eventually, she slowed it down to a soft melodic tune, something sweet and sorrowful. It sounded like something out of a movie soundtrack, and executed just as perfectly. Still, every once and awhile, she would stop and repeat a specific few bars over and over again until she could play them at quadruple the correct speed. While Cal may have been pissed at her timing, he had to give her credit where it was due. The discipline of her playing, the emotion conveyed through her music, it was like living art. It was all he could think about as her sorrowful tune lured him into sleep.

In your opinion, your soulmate had some weird fucking taste in music. The songs were just strange. They were, as far as you could tell, bass lines for the most part. All of them were decent, composed of a few deep notes hitting in repetitive patterns, occasionally switching to a more powerful rift. They weren't bad, but they weren't your taste either. To you, it sound like a pop/rock sort of mix, songs played on the radio probably. You weren't sure though. Your musical knowledge was severely limited, seeing as you almost exclusively listened to the same types of classical music you played. The tunes were catchy, though, often implanting themselves in your brain with no hope of a resolution to a song you didn't know. They distracted you as you played, and you found yourself adding them into your own songs. It was pretty fucking annoying. Especially when you were onstage. Once, you even caught yourself adding one of the basslines into a Beethoven, having to improvise so you didn't embarrass yourself in front of Carnegie Hall. But, sometimes, you would pick up your own upright bass and pluck out the same tunes that ran through your head all day.||

"It feels good to be back in New York." Luke was breathing in the smog of the city, the smell of hot dogs from the vendor across the street.

"What makes New York all that special, huh, Luke?" Cal, personally, didn't give one fuck about the city either way. He did appreciate how easy it was smoke in this city, however.

"I don't know man. I guess I just love the energy. The vibes, ya know?" Luke pulled a face as he spoke, raising his eyebrows up and down. Calum gave him shit often, but it was all in the name of friendship.

"Listen. I got all of us tickets go see a concert at Carnegie Hall. Y'all need some culture." Ashton had been scrolling through places he wanted to visit on his phone. Being in this band took him all over the world, but Ashton barely got time to travel.

"Bro, why? No offense, but that's not really our scene. How about we try and visit a club of some sorts instead? Discover the next big thing?" Michael was being truthful. Classical music really wasn't their scene.

"Classical music is quite beautiful if you take the time to listen, Michael." Cal kept thinking about his soulmate, her own music resonating in his ears. Her music, classical music, truly was beautiful.

"What the fuck, Cal? Since when are you some musical snob?" Luke was confused. He really didn't know much about his dark haired band member.

"Oh, fuck off, won't ya?" Cal took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke out of his lungs as he gazed at the skyline. He hadn't ever told anyone about his soulmate. Everyone had their own versions of discovery. Some said their entire worlds turned to color as they touched for the first time, some had tattoos that matched the same in their partners, some even having necklaces that matched their significant others. Cal loved his, though. It really fit him, he thought. A few unlucky people didn't have soulmates, destined to be alone. Cal had, for the most part, convinced everyone in his life the same was true for him. They were sorry for him, pitiful. He didn't care, however. Cal knew, and while he had no intention of finding his soulmate, he was still content to listen to the soft melodic tunes flowing from the strings of his soulmate's cello. ||