Page 53 of Sycopation
Dom cocked his head, obviously expecting more.
“I did enjoy playing. There’s a lot more to being a timpanist than kettledrums and triangles, which is what most people think the position is like. But I don’t miss the symphony.” He certainly didn’t miss Dimitri, who had been a demanding asshole of a conductor, even before they’d hooked up.
A quirk of a smile on Dom’s lips. Made him look even more like a college student. No wonder he got carded sometimes—hedidlook young. “Rock gets into your soul.”
It did. It had. “So does classical.” He still found himself humming snatches of music only aficionados would know, or tapping out complex rhythms that would befuddle a whole host of rock musicians, though he doubted there’d be a time signature or beat he could throw at Dom that would confuse him. Or, for that matter, would confuse Ray or Mish. Twisted Wishes used some interesting rhythms indeed.
Dom chuckled, then sobered. “Ray applied to Juilliard, you know.”
Zavier choked on his coffee. “He what?” The words shot through him, like an unexpected clap of thunder.
The reply came softer. “He did. But with his GPA...” Dom shrugged. “And he had no formal musical training. Besides, even if he’d somehow gotten in, he’d never have been able to afford it.”
That was something to chew on. He’d never paid attention to Ray’s financial situation back then. Didn’t know it now. “His family couldn’t have helped?”
Dom shook his head. “I mean, they did okay, but he’s the youngest of five, and his parents were taking care of his grandmother who had Alzheimer’s, and between all of that...”
Yeah, tuition to an expensive music school would be the last thing on anyone’s list. “So he never went to college?”
“Oh, he did. Got an associate’s from the local community college. Took some voice and music lessons when the band started getting more gigs after we graduated. Enough so he could read music.”
Ray hadn’t been able to read music in high school? Holy shit. Zavier leaned forward. “Are you telling me that Ray hadnomusical trainingat all as a kid?” And put togetherthisband? Wrotethosesongs?
“Just the music appreciation stuff we all got in school.”
Which had been crap. “And they said I was a prodigy.” He shook his head.
“You were.” Dom toyed with the remains of his meal. “But he’sreallygood, Zav.”
“I know.” He’d seen it. Felt it. Played with them all.
“This shit with Carl...” Dom sighed. “It’s killing him. He’s always been self-conscious about his lack of training and schooling. All of that. He thinks his skill is all a fluke, as if someone’s gonna realize he’s faking and take it all away.”
And Zavier had walked in as a reminder and an example of a “true” musician. He winced. “No wonder Ray was so pissed when I showed up to audition.”
Another expression pulled at Dom’s lips, this one much more rueful. “Yeah.” His featured smoothed out. “But here’s the thing—you treat him like an equal.”
“He is.” Ray was astounding as a musician. As a man.
Dom nodded again. “It makes an impression, though. I think it’s one of the reasons everything has fallen into place when we’re on stage. He doesn’t have to worry about you, and he knows you don’t worry abouthim. You trust him.”
But offstage Ray was a different story, as they all found out last night. “You said he carries it all on him.”
“Yeah.” Dom leaned back, and looked wistfully at the map. “Do you think we could walk and talk?”
“Dude, I can play four different beats at the same time.”
Dom’s grin made him look like even more of a twink, and it occurred to Zavier that this was a completely cultivated look, just like Domino.
They paid and headed out toward yet another museum. Zavier fell into step next to Dom. “Thanks for inviting me along today. I hope I didn’t step on your plans to go cruising.”
Dom’s cackle of laughter was unexpected. “Oh my god. You’re the only one who’s ever figured that out.”
So there was a method to Dom’s madness besides being a museum freak. He couldn’t help the smile. “I lived and breathed the wine, cheese, and finger sandwich crowd for years.”
“Mmm.” There was almost something wistful in Dom’s voice. “On the one hand, it sounds lovely. On the other, I’d probably go insane after a few weeks.”
Zavier glanced at him. “Because rock gets into your soul?”
