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Authors: Carolyn Gray
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make little towers out of sugar packets. I shook my head in disbelief as I thought about Nicholas and where two years had deposited him. Reduced to singing nursery rhymes, and poetry readings, while that remarkable voice lay unused.
But not after tonight. I was going to change his world as much as he’d already changed mine.
I settled down, as did everyone else (there were about fifteen people in all, pretty damn good for a poetry reading, I thought) when Nicholas walked out onto the stage. Wearing a red shirt and black leather pants. That had been who I’d seen leaving Harrison’s. I wondered if he had any other clothes -- it was the same outfit he’d worn to the audition, with one addition. He had on a Derby hat, which he flipped off his head as he fiddled with his microphone. His hair was mussed up by the hat, but he just shook his head like a terrier and set the hat upside down on the stage.
“Feel free to contribute to my waistline,” he said with a grin, patting his stomach.
One of the girls obliged his request by tossing a handful of coins inside the hat. He blew her a kiss, then joked and laughed with the university students for a few minutes longer. I watched with a stab of longing as he hugged and kissed a couple of the girls and, to my somewhat jealous amusement, one guy. The guy smacked Nicholas on the butt and retook his place in the audience.
A Red-Tainted Silence
39
“Thanks for coming, everybody,” Nicholas said. “I appreciate you making me feel less lonely tonight.”
“How can you be lonely with that pretty face?” the butt-slapper called out.
The grin on Nick’s face was a sad one -- but I wondered if I was the only one who realized that. “You’d be surprised, Richie, you’d be surprised.” He readjusted his mic, then licked his lips and said, “Welcome to my strange little world.” Then he opened the door to that world, and I walked in.
He was almost as mesmerizing reciting his lyrics as he was singing. As he spoke, I could hear strands of music playing through my mind, accompanying his words. It was all I could do not to grab a napkin and borrow a pen and start jotting down what I was hearing in my head. I couldn’t wait to hear him sing again, hear that voice perform a different sort of magic than what was woven now -- magic defined by me.
But this was good. Very, very good.
I watched, fascinated, and filled with hungry anticipation as he moved comfortably in front of his small audience, charming them with the elegance and cleverness of his words, drawing out their emotions. In between readings, he talked to his friends and money was good-naturedly tossed into the hat. He earned every coin, every bill. Amazing, just amazing, and my inner conviction that we were meant to work together intensified. I could hardly sit still.
He hadn’t lost any of his stage presence, that was for sure, though finally he faltered.
When he looked up and saw me.
Our gazes locked. Held. Heat flashed through me and my longing for him intensified, my body responding to the first stunned, then comprehending wicked look in his eyes. I got that hard, that fast. From just a look. If ever I worried I’d imagined his effect on me, I was reassured at that moment.
He had me, and he knew it.
I tried to look cool and unaffected, but that was blown out of the water when I nervously took a sip of my drink and spilled some of it on my shirt. I brushed it away and smiled at him sheepishly.
For a long moment we were lost in each other’s gazes until one of his friends in the audience yelled, “Wake up, Nicholas!”
He broke his gaze from mine then and laughed nervously. “Sorry.” He looked at me again and I smiled, feeling a little more at ease. He wiped a hand across his face and said,
“Okay, now where were we, class?”
I settled back, and for the rest of the hour he continued, but now he directed his reading toward me, bathing me in his words. My excitement intensified, but man, how I
But not after tonight. I was going to change his world as much as he’d already changed mine.
I settled down, as did everyone else (there were about fifteen people in all, pretty damn good for a poetry reading, I thought) when Nicholas walked out onto the stage. Wearing a red shirt and black leather pants. That had been who I’d seen leaving Harrison’s. I wondered if he had any other clothes -- it was the same outfit he’d worn to the audition, with one addition. He had on a Derby hat, which he flipped off his head as he fiddled with his microphone. His hair was mussed up by the hat, but he just shook his head like a terrier and set the hat upside down on the stage.
“Feel free to contribute to my waistline,” he said with a grin, patting his stomach.
One of the girls obliged his request by tossing a handful of coins inside the hat. He blew her a kiss, then joked and laughed with the university students for a few minutes longer. I watched with a stab of longing as he hugged and kissed a couple of the girls and, to my somewhat jealous amusement, one guy. The guy smacked Nicholas on the butt and retook his place in the audience.
A Red-Tainted Silence
39
“Thanks for coming, everybody,” Nicholas said. “I appreciate you making me feel less lonely tonight.”
“How can you be lonely with that pretty face?” the butt-slapper called out.
The grin on Nick’s face was a sad one -- but I wondered if I was the only one who realized that. “You’d be surprised, Richie, you’d be surprised.” He readjusted his mic, then licked his lips and said, “Welcome to my strange little world.” Then he opened the door to that world, and I walked in.
He was almost as mesmerizing reciting his lyrics as he was singing. As he spoke, I could hear strands of music playing through my mind, accompanying his words. It was all I could do not to grab a napkin and borrow a pen and start jotting down what I was hearing in my head. I couldn’t wait to hear him sing again, hear that voice perform a different sort of magic than what was woven now -- magic defined by me.
But this was good. Very, very good.
I watched, fascinated, and filled with hungry anticipation as he moved comfortably in front of his small audience, charming them with the elegance and cleverness of his words, drawing out their emotions. In between readings, he talked to his friends and money was good-naturedly tossed into the hat. He earned every coin, every bill. Amazing, just amazing, and my inner conviction that we were meant to work together intensified. I could hardly sit still.
He hadn’t lost any of his stage presence, that was for sure, though finally he faltered.
When he looked up and saw me.
Our gazes locked. Held. Heat flashed through me and my longing for him intensified, my body responding to the first stunned, then comprehending wicked look in his eyes. I got that hard, that fast. From just a look. If ever I worried I’d imagined his effect on me, I was reassured at that moment.
He had me, and he knew it.
I tried to look cool and unaffected, but that was blown out of the water when I nervously took a sip of my drink and spilled some of it on my shirt. I brushed it away and smiled at him sheepishly.
For a long moment we were lost in each other’s gazes until one of his friends in the audience yelled, “Wake up, Nicholas!”
He broke his gaze from mine then and laughed nervously. “Sorry.” He looked at me again and I smiled, feeling a little more at ease. He wiped a hand across his face and said,
“Okay, now where were we, class?”
I settled back, and for the rest of the hour he continued, but now he directed his reading toward me, bathing me in his words. My excitement intensified, but man, how I
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