The next day Nyx turned up after his table read, just as he'd promised. He
was wearing an old faded t-shirt and a well-worn pair of jeans, his guitar
strapped to his back.
Most of the band had stopped to eat, paper sandwich wrappers all over a low
table. Willy was fussing with his guitar, his sandwich untouched, ad smiled
brightly when Nyx entered.
"Taking five," he said. "I told them you'd be here soon."
He rose and crossed to him, leaning in near his ear.
"The drummer is outside having a smoke. He might come in his pants if you
look at him," he chuckled.
"I've got your bit," he said. "It'll be familiar."
He grabbed for a spiral notebook with his flowing script lining the pages.
The lyrics were, indeed, familiar. They'd written some of it together, long
ago. Willy had filled it out, changed the tune a bit, but the part
designated for Nyx was the man's own words.
"Let's go in the booth while the guys finish up and we can warm up?" he
smiled, eyes bright with excitement.
"I don't believe in fate," Nyx said, shaking his head. "It sounds terribly
romantic, fate- But if it's all planned out for us, does free will even
matter? We're here because we wanted to be here, and fortune brought us
back together, not fate."
Nyx nodded a little, pugging in his guitar and strumming a little. He
played a bit, then started to sing, changing just a line or two here and
there. He played through once, then gestured for Willy to join in so they
might play together a bit. After a while they had something that sounded
like a real song.
He called them all in to set up and the producer took his spot behind the
board. It took long enough that Nyx had the time to get truly anxious.
Willy was counting on it because Nyx was electric with the anxiety
of a stage. Putting him on the spot like this was the closest Willy could
get.
Nyx was quiet, clearly in his own head, but once they started playing he
came alive again, singing back and forth with Willy as though they'd never
stopped.
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As Nyx squirmed closer, Willy pulled him in.
"Yeah, I do," he said softly.
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"I want to make music with you too," Nyx said softly, pressing a kiss to his chest.
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Willy kissed his hair softly, then breathed him in.
"Sleep," he whispered.
He otdered Nyx because he wasn't sure he could keep his own eyes open much longer.
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Nyx didn't need to be told twice, still holding onto Willy as he drifted off.
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Willy drifted off, Nyx held close and secure. At some point in his sleep he let go, but he never got far and never lost contact.
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The next day Nyx turned up after his table read, just as he'd promised. He was wearing an old faded t-shirt and a well-worn pair of jeans, his guitar strapped to his back.
"I'm not too late, am I?"
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Most of the band had stopped to eat, paper sandwich wrappers all over a low table. Willy was fussing with his guitar, his sandwich untouched, ad smiled brightly when Nyx entered.
"Taking five," he said. "I told them you'd be here soon."
He rose and crossed to him, leaning in near his ear.
"The drummer is outside having a smoke. He might come in his pants if you look at him," he chuckled.
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Nyx blushed, then laughed a bit.
"You're so full of it," he snorted. "I kind of thought it was just going to be the two of us, since we've not actually written anything yet."
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"I've got your bit," he said. "It'll be familiar."
He grabbed for a spiral notebook with his flowing script lining the pages. The lyrics were, indeed, familiar. They'd written some of it together, long ago. Willy had filled it out, changed the tune a bit, but the part designated for Nyx was the man's own words.
"Let's go in the booth while the guys finish up and we can warm up?" he smiled, eyes bright with excitement.
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Nyx looked surprised, but he nodded as he followed Willy.
"I can't believe you kept this," he admitted.
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"Of course I kept it," he said as he sauntered into the booth. "It's a beautiful song. I've wanted to record it forever, but...not without you."
He leaned in close.
"Finding you, here and now, was fate. You can't tell me different," he purred.
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"I don't believe in fate," Nyx said, shaking his head. "It sounds terribly romantic, fate- But if it's all planned out for us, does free will even matter? We're here because we wanted to be here, and fortune brought us back together, not fate."
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"I'll cling to the romance, thanks," Willy grinned.
He picked up a guitar and settled in to play a few tunes to warm up.
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"You're going to have to play a bit for me," Nyx said. "I don't remember it well," he admitted.
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"I've played with the tune a little," he admitted before he began to play.
The lyrics were familiar and so was the tune, but Willy had made changes to make it more his own style. He sang it once to remind him.
"That's what I've got, but I want you on the track," he said. "You. So make changes."
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Nyx nodded a little, pugging in his guitar and strumming a little. He played a bit, then started to sing, changing just a line or two here and there. He played through once, then gestured for Willy to join in so they might play together a bit. After a while they had something that sounded like a real song.
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"I love it," Willy decided. "Let's get the band in here and lay it down."
His excitement was palpable. He didn't want to stop now.
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Nyx nodded, even though he was sure he wasn't ready. It was all moving so fast, and he knew he was out of practice.
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He called them all in to set up and the producer took his spot behind the board. It took long enough that Nyx had the time to get truly anxious. Willy was counting on it because Nyx was electric with the anxiety of a stage. Putting him on the spot like this was the closest Willy could get.
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Nyx was quiet, clearly in his own head, but once they started playing he came alive again, singing back and forth with Willy as though they'd never stopped.