splurgeforavowel:
As he progressed further into the song, the utter absurdity of the numerous struggles which Skszp had been put through at the start of the actual audition—even merely the memory of them—had all become obscured by it; all of he roughness it had caused him to feel and tensed synapses converted into strands of music and melody, and woven into the very fabric of the material he was trying his best to do justice as he replicated. It hadn’t been the first time he dealt with such uncooperative equipment, and it wouldn’t be the last. But in every instance of difficulties like that, he was always able to push past it. Even if he still wanted to be pissed off, he never could keep on with it for very long; the tunes and the performance always won out in the end.
He didn’t even care about pleasing or impressing the audiences once he started to play. And though that was also more or less the case here, now, the man he was playing for was proving as hard to read as Skszp was often complained at for being. He looked out to him again, just to see if there was any sort of telling change in the other man’s expression…but still, apparently, no such evidence was made available. In fact, the man’s face, and the rest of him had disappeared. It seemed the technical difficulties had gotten to him after all. As usual, he was very glad he hadn’t built this thing up in his head, or himself about it. Even if for a moment a minuscule spark of hopefulness had maybe slipped through the apathy for a flash of of a millisecond.
But he wasn’t going to not see his selection through—especially since it was from the works of someone so important to music. If that guy were still somewhere in the club and could hear, he’d just have to deal. Just then, he heard some short, dull footfalls, and felt some sudden weight added beside him on the light stage. He paid it little mind, doubting it meant anything significant…until he heard a voice that was most definitely not his own following the other sounds. Deciding to humor and inspect them, he was a bit surprised to see that he actually hadn’t lost the audience to the piercing squeals from the mic or discordant guitar strum; he just decided it was time for some audience participation.
Skszp got a bit more into the performance, leaning against his guitar as he played, and adding a little more life to his playing by swaying more noticeably to the steady, moderate rhythm of the song, and adding some extra energy and fluidity to the way he produced the sounds from the instrument. He respected the man’s decision to get on stage with him, since they’d be performing together, and finding out how well they sounded combined or if they had some chemistry on stage as an act was a very important thing to determine. It might not have been necessary, but out of some of his own curiosity, he stepped closer to Hansel’s side of the stage, and tuned his ear through his notes and tried to create some light levels of contrasting harmonizing between their voices.
Finally, they reached the end of the song. Skszp put the instrument back and carefully stepped away from his microphone to avoid an unwanted repeat of earlier events. Outwardly, he was still just as noiseless and unaffected as he had been when he came to the club, but he had to admit, even if he didn’t get the work, at least he…really rather enjoyed trying, this go-around. This audition was very unlike others he had attended.
Hansel carefully kept track of where Skszp had gotten to in the song, slipping in his ear monitors as he sang and trying not to add too much noise pollution to the mix as he crossed towards the other musician. Had he had a sound engineer with him, he wouldn’t have had to have taken such precautions — the need for them having been rendered out by the ability to remotely turn on the microphone from across the room instead of at a source that was prone to causing a loud pop to echo through the system as it was activated. He finished mentally maligning this fact as he and the guitarist stood a foot away from each other.
“Keep your ‘lectric eye on me, babe,” he added, covering the dominant vocal on the track certain that Skszp would take on the notes to blend with his voice. The ones already outlined as the standard chorus to the song.
The added enthusiasm Skszp had upon seeing the German song-stylist was appreciated. And noted. Suddenly, the guitarist found himself sky rocketing to the top of a very short list of musicians he had already shown up so well.
The song ended and, having found the spell broken, Hansel stepped away from the auditioner. He turned off his own, briefly used equipment, choosing to place it on the keyboard instead of back on the table he had been sitting at.
“You were good,” Hansel said, keeping the majority of the enthusiasm from his voice. But he couldn’t help a small bit of the excitement from their impromptu performance showing up his attempt at a calm demeanour. “Certainly one of the top musicians I’ll be considering adding to the band.”
He walked back to the table, scooping up the notebook in which he had been half note taking and half drawing in throughout the audition. He added a few quick scrawls, mostly amounting to noting the few spots that could use improvement and the majority of times when the music and vocals blended perfectly. It was almost enough to make Hansel consider adding the song back into his set after years of finding it a little too…obvious. Something that people had come to expect from the openly queer musician.
“Did you want to try the keyboard next?” he prompted. Having an excellent axeman was one thing, but the band’s opening was for someone more versatile than a single instrument. Though, if he played the keyboard half as well as he played the guitar, Hansel thought to himself, I might have to hire him on the spot. Because while New York was covered in musicians trying to find their way in the world, their place in the often plastic checkerboard that was the American music scene, what it was lacking in his experience was talented musicians willing to work for what the club was able to pay. If only they could find that one breakout single that could catapult the band from “hip in the right circles” to actual chart-toppers.
After the song, and the spontaneous, passionate collaboration, reached its inevitable end, and the cold stillness and silence once again filled the club, so did it take him over, as it had before.
He afforded himself just a moment to take in Hansel’s brief commentary of his portion of the performance, nodding in response. In the way of words, he said, “Thank you. Good to know.” Just as brief, but, perhaps more hollow than what he had replied to; this combination of words were not new to him. However, the possibility of there being some truth within them, this time, still lingered, unfortunately. He knew better than to let himself go thinking any person or situation varied from what he already experienced. But he found difficulty in denying something substantial, or, dare he think it, even hopeful, definitely was present this time around that could actually lead him somewhere new instead of treading the same road over and over.
As he removed the borrowed guitar from his person, and gently set it back down, he was already prepared to leave things as they were. The question Hansel presented, though, proved most certainly otherwise. He could almost feel a smile coming on. This was what he was looking for: a challenge; a real opportunity to prove himself. It wasn’t even a question of him “wanting to”. He liked that.
He slowly stepped back from the edge of the stage, and walked towards the instruments on it, assuming his place behind the more lonesome keyboard among them. “Did you want a say in what you heard?” he asked, quietly, offering Hansel a challenge back, disturbing his hands’ rest, which had only just started, in his pockets.