added on.
Noise erupted all around me. I sat quietly as dread settled in. Chair auditions were common enough when there was a major change, but right before Maestro Henrich retired we’d auditioned for new chair assignments. Holding another audition this soon, for the entire symphony, was pretty unheard of. Maybe this was what had been bothering him?
Carla raised her hand. She was only a few years older than me but was married with kids, a first chair, the daughter of the SOOK’s co-president, and always looked chic. It was hard not to compare all that I lacked against all that she was.
“Even the first chairs?” She spoke before he called on her. I cringed internally. “I’ve been practicing the Bach solo for the fall showcase.” Her confidence was strong; in her defense, she’d been playing with the SOOK for many years, and had been first chair for the last two. But after the question was out and Devlin’s head slowly twisted toward her, her confidence melted. She flicked a glance to Barry, who had suddenly become very interested in his sheet music.
“Excuse me?” Devlin asked.
“I said—”
“I heard your question, but assumed it wasn’t for me as you didn’t address me as Maestro.”
“Sorry. Maestro.” She lifted her chin as red stained her cheeks.
“All chairs are required to audition,” he said.
She huffed out a breath and smoothed her ponytail.
Nobody liked to be criticized in front of their peers. So that must have been why I had a momentary loss of brain function and wanted to convey some cello camaraderie.
“Don’t worry, Carla. I’m sure you’ll still make first chair.” The words came out without my meaning them to. The different sections had already started talking and probably no one but the cellos heard me.
Her head snapped to my seat, behind her and to the right. Derision was the word you could use to describe her lip curl.
“I’m sorry. Who are you, you little toad?” she whispered with slitted eyes.
My mouth snapped shut and I focused on scraping off a piece of rosin stuck to the body of my cello with my fingernail. Well, that was what I got for talking to her. Or anybody. Head down and play. Feel nothing. Do nothing. Say nothing. That was the way to get by.
I risked a glance up. She had turned back around and was angrily flipping through her music. I told myself she was embarrassed for being chastised. That her comment had nothing to do with me. She was ashamed and angry, and I was an easy target for the feelings she couldn’t take out on Devlin. Still. Pretty crappy.
“The SOOK is hiring an outside agency to coordinate the auditions. I will be working with a committee to decide who is the best fit for each position.” The room quieted as Devlin spoke again. “I’m telling all of you this now because it could take weeks before this is all settled. I don’t have more information at this time. Last thing. The fall showcase will be featuring my newest concerto. Take ten.”
The room filled with sounds of whispered gossip. When I glanced up again, Devlin was studying Carla with a stern expression. His gaze strayed to mine and, knowing that I had caught him staring, he quickly looked away. He stomped off the podium and left the room without another word.
Chapter 3
The devil is in the details. Pay attention.
DEVLIN
So much for a fresh start.
A few weeks in, and already my emotions got the best of me.
The farther I got from the rehearsal space, the less anxiety tied my tongue. My faults made me weak. The bandana hid my flushed cheeks, but the heat was getting unbearable. As soon as I was alone, I’d pull it down to breathe deep again. I’d go home, swim some laps, work the concerto, and everything would level out.
The anxiety management techniques came when the first symphony spread the rumors I’d been fired for my anger issues. Despite my best intentions at the start of each day, my nerves had me living up to those expectations. My inability to address the lack of respect between the musicians only ratcheted up my feelings of powerlessness. Carla didn’t think I’d heard her barb. I should have called her out rather than announcing the chair auditions so bluntly. Music I could control. My own words and emotions were trickier. Rather than accept this fault in my system, I gathered my anger. I focused on the things that pissed me off.
The SOOK wasn’t playing