There’s a knock on the door. We file out of the room and it’s a rare moment of seriousness.
It’s been a long time and I know I’m not the only one wondering what the reception will be like. We only know that we’re lucky to have had the success we’ve enjoyed until now. Nothing is a given. And nothing is to be taken for granted.
As we walk through the underground path up to the stage wings, the roars from the crowd grow.
“Rock Chamber Boys! Rock Chamber Boys!”
Sebastian turns around and gives me a grin.
Marius slaps me on the back from behind.
Our footsteps quicken and before I know it, we’re practically sprinting to the end of the hallway that will lead up to our fate.
“FUCKKKKKKK YEAHHHHHHHHHH!” I scream as I take those last few steps, clearing out the last of any cobwebs that have lingered after my forced hiatus.
My head is crystal clear.
And I know what I wasn’t sure of until this very moment I am ready.
We climb up the stairs and are led through to the dark backstage area, then stand in the wings waiting for our cue. There’s no point in talking, the screams and shouts from the waiting crowd drown out all other noise.
I’m jumping from leg to leg.
“GO!” Our stage manager yells and pushes us out from behind the wings.
It’s completely pitch dark. Tiny little LED lights on the stage that only we can see tell us where to stand.
I locate my cello and bow by feel. Pressing my ear close to the strings, giving the tuning one last check, I feel my hands shake again. But I know, it’s not because of the injury.
It’s because of the adrenalin.
It’s back.
I’ve missed it.
The sound from the audience grows in volume and passion. I’ve missed them too. Even though it’s dark, I close my eyes and try to visualize the space around me, the people, friends and strangers, and the music.
But all I can see is her face. We’re in Paris tonight. We talked about where our first concert should be, and this is the only place that felt right. And it would be perfect, if only she were out there.
I feel the guys settle down around me.
It’s time.
There’s a bright flash of light, our signature signal that the show is about to start. The crowd screams and then goes silent. I count us down, under my breath. And pull my bow.
The single note rings true and clear, growing stronger and stronger, as an ambient white light glows, bright and brighter, bathing us all.
I wanted it this way.
We’re known for our concerts’ light shows, as intricate and as complex as the music. But tonight, we wanted to make it clear that we are back, and for the next hour, we’re all in this together. No spotlight trickery, no dancing disco ball scattered light to start off with. Just us and them, together in a room, enjoying music.
I pull until there’s no more length on my bow, and I look around the giant venue. And I can see everyone’s faces, smiling back at me.
And then I play.
It’s an original, one we wrote for this very night. Starting out simple, melodic, almost dark and shadowy in its tones, abstract. Like Debussy telling stories of his heartbreak.
It’s just me.
My fingers slow and deliberate over the fingerplate as my bow draws each note from the strings. They’re fluid and flexible, almost back to their old state. My wrist still aches a little and it’s probable that it always will.
But it doesn’t stop me.
It doesn’t stop me telling my story.
The song builds, and in the corners of my eyes I see my bandmates start to move. Right on cue, the song dives into the chorus, and Sebastian and Marius and Brad join me. Like musical pillars building from the ground, taking my melody higher and higher, supporting from above, beside, and behind me. My forehead is already slick with sweat and I flick my head back, to get it out of my eyes.
The chorus is a frenzy of sound.
The images playing out in my mind of the chaos of the hospital, of the rehab, the recovery. It’s an arrangement of the song Noemie wrote for me. Pour Jeremy. My story in song.
They have to know.
I want then all to know what tonight is about. I give Sebastian a quick tilt of my head and he knows. He immediately takes over my part as I reach for the microphone in front of me.
“This one’s for you, Noemie.” I say, “Wherever you are in the world, right now. I hope you know, every note I play tonight, is for you.”
There’s a loud collective cheer from the crowd, and it makes my heart swell. I pick up my bow, and position it, waiting for the right break in the music. I jump in, and Sebastian falls back, reclaiming his harmony line, Brad’s violin, weaving in and out over us.
I lose myself in it all.
Letting the music carry me that last few steps in my recovery. And even though she may never hear it, every time I play it, I’ll remember her. I love you, Noemie. Always know, there’s someone out there who loves you.
Suddenly, the venue falls completely dark. All the microphones and audio from our instruments shut off. There’s a gasp from the crowd as they go quiet.
“What the fuck?” I whisper to Seb.
“I don’t know. Can you see you anything?”
“Yeah, a great big lot of black, idiot.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” I hear Marius ask from my right.
“We know about as much as you do.”
“Well, don’t move, let the crew take care of it.”
“Fucking hell.”
“Relax.” Marius says, in his hippie way that actually helps sometimes.
Now is not one of those times.
I hear footsteps running past me, and I imagine it’s the crew trying to fix whatever’s happened.
“Just hang on, guys. We’re on it.” Hank, our assistant, whispers to us, and then he’s off again.