"I need to speak with the manager, please," I said to a teenager who was standing behind a register, clearly trying to figure something out. He looked up in alarm as I brought him back to reality. He accidentally knocked a few pens off the counter and scrambled to pick them up.
"Is there something I can help with?" He asked, setting the pens back in their place.
"No. It needs to be the manager," I told him. The kid turned away and went into the back room. It was an office supplies store. I took in my surroundings and saw the printing station. It was advertising that they do signs, and their example was about doughnuts. My stomach turned. I think I had had enough baked goods for a lifetime at that point. That wasn't gonna stop me from eating one every morning though.
The kid re-emerged with a man who was dressed in nicely-fitted clothing. His muscles strained ever so slightly against the fabric of his shirt, and I just knew his ass was doing the same. The fancy name tag pinned to his chest read 'Manager: Jackson.'
"Bobby! What're you up to?" He asked. I smiled at him and leaned against the counter a bit.
"I'm here on some business," I said lightly.
"And what kind of business is that?" He pried.
"I was wondering if I could hang a sign up on the billboard over there. It's for Charlotte's junior recital," I explained, putting the paper down on the counter. It had a picture of Charlotte dramatically posed at the piano. On it was the date, time, and location. Jackson inspected it a bit.
"We can hang it up for you... on one condition," he said. The teenager had gone back to doing whatever it was he was doing before and wasn't paying any attention. Jackson leaned forward, as if what he were about to say was a secret. There was his signature lavender cologne.
"What's that?"
"I get to go with you."
"Good thing is also doubles as an invitation," I replied, standing up straight. "And I like the look. It's very men-at-work-like."
"Get out of my store before I have to do something about you," he joked, and I just laughed.
I left the poster with him and left the store. It was only Tuesday, and the recital wasn't until Saturday. I had too much time til our date. It would be a long few days.
~
Music was coming from all around us when we walked into Charlotte's university. Musicians were practicing in private rooms as Jackson and I searched for the recital hall that Charlotte would be performing in. I heard violinists, singers, pianists, and instrumentalists that I couldn't quite figure out too. I felt creative just being in the environment.
"Look at this painting," Jackson said, grabbing my attention. I joined him to see a beautiful painting of two men in the middle of a dance. They were in the midst of a lift. He checked the plaque that was next to it.
"It says that this is in part of their LGBTQ collection. A student named Noah painted it,," Jackson told me as I looked closer at the painting itself.
"Wow. I wish I had half the talent anyone here does," I commented. Jackson joined me in admiring the art.
"You've plenty talent, Bobby," he said, putting his arm around me.
"I know basic piano skills actually! Charlotte taught me a little bit. I'm no good, but I could play happy birthday," I told him.
"Bobby?" I heard a voice say. I turned to see Charlotte's parents walking towards me. My face lit up.
"Hey! How're you guys?" I asked, embracing her in a hug. She rubbed my back in the process. Rhonda and Chris were practically a second set of parents to me. When I first moved to New York, they let me crash on their couch while I found my footing. I could've stayed with them longer, but I had the urge to be independent.
"We're doing well. How about you?"
"I'm good. We were just admiring the art before Charlotte's big show," I said to her. "This is Jackson, by the way. Jackson, this is Charlotte's mom and dad; Rhonda and Chris."
"Nice to meet you," Jackson said with a warm smile. He shook their hands.
"You too. Now, is this just a friend or...," Rhonda began, giving the two of us looks.
"Let the boys be, Rhonda," Chris cut in. She shrugged and gave me a wink. I could only laugh it off.
"Let's go get some good seats," I suggested, and we did.
A little bit later, we were watching as Charlotte came out on the stage in a gorgeous gown. She seemed to sparkle under the stage lights. She sat down at the bench to the sounds of applause. Soon, we were in another world as her hands created the most wonderful music. I don't know how she managed to play so quickly and accurately. There wasn't a single note out of place.
"She's so good," Jackson whispered to me between pieces. I just nodded my head and gave him a smile. I had told him how good she was, but I guess he wasn't expecting me to be right.
Notes filled the empty air around us and engulfed every person who could hear them. Charlotte was incredibly focused on her work. I happened to glance over to see that her parents were beaming with pride.
Her hands struck the last few chords of her last song, and the sound lingered in the space. She hit a final button and rested. I'm sure her fingers must've been exhausted after all of that, but you would never be able to tell. She stood up from her bench and took a bow. The audience erupted with applause, and a smile spread across her face. I could tell how proud she was of that performance. Hell, I was proud of her. She had told me how stressed she was about the last piece, but she absolutely killed it.
Her parents moved past all the people wanting to talk to her first. Rhonda engulfed her into her arms.
"You were so amazing, sweetie!" She declared, grabbing her face.
"Thanks, Mama," Charlotte returned. Chris got in there too to get a hug from his talented daughter.
"You're gonna go far with this gift of yours," he told her.
Jackson and I lingered behind them to let them have their moment. There were so many people waiting to congratulate her, and we had time to spare.
"And this is only her junior year? That's insane!" Jackson said to me, and I returned with a nod.
"I've known her since high school, and she's always been such a hard worker. She's been taking lessons since she was five, and she was playing for the school choir in high school," I told him.
