“For knowing that I didn’t hit you on purpose.”
“Marius, a lot of really fucked up things happened tonight, but you deliberately hurting me, was never one of those things.”
“Jez… Jez thinks I did it on purpose.”
I shake my head. “No, he doesn’t.”
“He does… he said…”
“He’s… he’s probably just as confused as we all are right now.”
“Anca…” He reaches for me, and I pause before taking a step back. The hurt in his eyes sears, and I have to look away.
“Marius, just because I believe that you didn’t hit me on purpose, doesn’t mean everything’s okay.”
“Is it because Jez-…”
“No, he shouldn’t have hit you either, but he was just protecting me. No, this doesn’t have anything to do with him.”
“Then what does it have to do with?”
“Me! You! US!”
“Anca…”
“I was fine, Marius. Nothing was going on, those guys weren’t doing anything and I wasn’t in trouble.”
“But…”
“No, listen. This is exactly what happened tonight, you just didn’t listen. You didn’t listen when I told you I could take care of myself, and you’re not listening now. I have enough of that in my life, with a big brother who refuses to let me grow up and… and the memory an ex-teacher, who made me second guess myself to the point of crippling anxiety.”
“I am not the Maestro.”
“No, and you’re not Jez. I’m supposed to be your partner, your lover. Not your ward. I don’t need you to tell me what I can or cannot do!”
“I…”
“Do you understand?”
“You looked like you were in trouble.”
“So, you just barged in and started swinging your ego around. And who got hurt?” I shake my head. He just doesn’t get it. If he can’t see what he’s done wrong, what’s the point of all this? I can’t be with someone who thinks he has to be the hero all the time. I have an older brother for that.
He looks up, and I know he feels remorseful. I just don’t know if it will change anything.
“You’re not my big brother, Marius. You should’ve known better. I want someone to support me, not carry me.”
“I made a mistake.”
“No, you made a decision. Yes, it was in a heated moment. A decision based on a preconceived notion that I need to be protected… because I can’t do it myself.” I pull away from him, trying to ignore the broken look on his face. “And that’s what really hurt me, Marius.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know, I just don’t know what you’re really sorry about.”
He nods, but doesn’t provide any more clarity. “Can I stay?” He asks, his voice so soft I can barely hear it.
Yes. I want to say to him. Stay and hold me until we both forget everything that happened tonight. But I don’t. “I’m sorry, I really need to get some rest… we… we can talk later, ok?”
I climb into bed and turn away from him. I keep waiting for him to leave, but the last thing that I remember before I drift off to sleep, is the sound of his breath.
Marius
She hasn’t come out of her room all day, and I’ve stayed mostly in mine, except for pacing in front of her door, waiting to see if she’ll answer my knock. I’ve thought a lot about what she said, and the truth is, I can see where she’s coming from.
I can’t say that what she told me about what she’s suffered in the past hasn’t affected my desire to protect her. I just can’t imagine how much strength it took to recover from what happened with the Maestro, and the last thing I want is to ever see her hurt again.
Now I’m the one who’s hurt her. Me. There’s really no reason Anca, and even Jez, ever should speak to me again. I get that.
I just have to trust her, as she’s asked.
I set the alarm to wake me in time for the night’s performance and fall asleep to images of her with tears in her eyes.
***
“Where’s Anca?” I ask later, poking my head out of the green room we have put aside for our meditation.
“I haven’t seen her,” one of the crew answers as he rushes off with a pile of cords looped around his hand.
Damn. I check my watch. Twenty minutes until curtains up. I won’t have time to go through the meditation routine with her if she doesn’t show soon.
Why isn’t she here?
I try to push her out of my mind as I sit and close my eyes and breathe.
***
“Where’s Anca?” I ask Jez as we get into position on stage, and he just shrugs without looking at me.
“She didn’t come meditate with me,” I tell him, and his head jerks up and he turns towards to wings.
“She’ll be okay,” he mumbles, though I’m not sure who he’s trying to convince.
“I hope so,” I say, again, to him or to myself, I’m not sure.
The lights go out, and there’s nowhere to go but forward.
***
“She is the sensation, you’ve all been waiting to see! Our very own harpist from heaven, ANCA PETRESCU!”
Sebastian intro echoes throughout the venue and the crowd cranks up their cheers to full volume.
I watch and wait. But there’s no movement from the wings.
Sebastian shoots a look at me and I nod, and twirl my finger, urging him to draw out the intro.
“If you were at our concert last week on the esplanade, you would have heard her perform a kick ass version of Beautiful, but that’s got NOTHING on what she’s prepared for you for tonight! GIVE IT UP FOR ANCA!!!!”
It takes a few more moments before I see her emerge from behind the curtain.
She gives the crowd a small wave as she walks over to the harp and settles down on the stool.
“Breath, baby, just breathe,” I urge her under my breath. Her movements seem stiff and tense.
The stage lights dim to focus on the one spotlight lighting a perfect circle around Anca and her harp.
The noise from the audience slowly dies into nothing as she raises her arms.
She’s alone for the piece. Just her. Just her and harp.
But there’s not even that.
Ten, twenty, thirty seconds go by, and her fingers remain frozen over her unplucked harp.
Damn. No. I think, as I watch her from my corner on the stage. Even from here I can see her skin is paler than snow, her shoulders shaking.
Come on, Anca… come on, baby. Breathe. I will her.
But there’s nothing.
It’s over a minute now, close to two. The crowd is restless.
I gesture to Sebastian and he grabs the microphone, his face confused. Before he can say anything though, there’s a call from the crowd.
“Come on!!! What are you waiting for! You scared?”