Page 24 of Feral Touch
I wanted to continue grilling him, but his sudden change in subject told me he wasn’t going to say anything more. I went along with it.
“Well, like I said, I’m attending Opus Academy. I live with two of my friends, Natalie and Jen. Um.” I tried to think of what else to say, but my life was pretty routine: get up, practice, go to class, practice, come home and do schoolwork, then practice before bed. “I practice my cello a lot.”
He nodded, face expectant. I didn’t know what else to tell him.
“I’m looking for a part-time job at the moment.”
“Find anything interesting?”
“I’ve got some leads.” Only the one, that event planning company, but I figured I was a shoe-in. “It's for a company that plans events. You know those people who play in the background at fancy parties? That could be me.”
Ren's face lit up. “That sounds pretty cool.”
“Yeah, it would be. I really want it. I was also thinking about tutoring music, but kids these days all have delusions of grandeur. They all want to play guitar so they can become some famous rock stars or whatever.”
His lips twitched. “Delusions of grandeur?”
“Just because you made it, doesn’t mean everyone can.”
“Have I made it?” His voice turned thoughtful.
“Are you kidding?” I was torn between disbelief and suspicion. Was this false modesty? “Ren, you have to disguise yourself to hide from fans.”
He shrugged. “All bands have a group of hardcore fans. It doesn’t always mean you’ve made it big.” He looked up and flashed me a brief smile. “You’d never heard of Feral Silence, right?”
“I’m not exactly into the hard rock music scene.”
“I just wonder sometimes,” he mused. “Whether this is real or not, when it’s all going to disappear. All my fans, all that attention. I sometimes feel like…” he trailed off and looked down at his coffee. His last words were spoken in a hushed murmur. “I feel like I don’t deserve it.”
I didn’t know if he meant for me to hear. How could someone as famous and talented as Ren doubt himself? My heart ached for him. I took his hands in mine.
“You shouldn’t feel that way. You'reRen SadaofFeral Silence. You’re amazing. Everyone can see it.”
He squeezed my hands, thumb rubbing back and forth over my knuckles. It sent a wave of heat pulsing through me. I suppressed a whimper. How could the simplest touch make my knees go weak?
“Thanks, Ivy.” He looked up to meet my eyes. “I know how hard it is for you to compliment someone who just thrashes around on stage.” He gave me a sly grin as I sputtered, trying to come up with a response. “It’s fine. I know your tastes are much too refined for the kind of music I play.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I mean, it’s not like it takes talent to play a bass guitar. It’s the easiest instrument to learn, right?” He kept on going, talking over my protests and grinning.
“Stop,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I’m sorry I even said anything.”
He let out an amused laugh. “It’s fine. I like a girl with refined tastes.”
I kept my face in my hands, hiding my blush. A small thrill ran through me at those words. He liked me. The question was, how much?
“You've got a reason to be so discerning, though,” Ren continued.
“What? Why?”
“I've seen you play.”
“Play? You mean play my cello?” I frowned in confusion. “When?”
“I'm not the only one with videos on the internet.”
“What—”
“Your school's website has videos of students performing to show off the best of the best. They have quite a few of you up there.”
“Really? I knew they recorded some of our final exams, but…” I murmured into my cup.
