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Post by Troy Wexler on Feb 14, 2013 0:44:59 GMT -5
Troy glanced around, trying to make it look like he wasn't assessing the competition. The kid was kind of a wild card, as far as he could tell. He was young and inexperienced, that much was clear. He was probably the kind of guy who was used to playing in private, not performing in front of people. That worked in Troy's favor, because he loved performing. He almost became a different person when he was performing.
The other guy looked vaguely familiar to him. They had probably played in the same club or something, maybe in a competition. He looked like he knew what he was doing, although he did not have an instrument.
"I know how it is. Guitar is cooler than piano," he said with a wry grin. "I play guitar, too... even drums, a little. But I always come back to the piano."
It was never something that would make him rich and famous, though. Sure there was always the odd pianist who somehow made it big, like Elton John or the new American singer he'd heard recently, Billy Joel. But that was rare, to be sure.
He was pulled back from that thought by the kid's next question, and he turned his gaze back to him. "Yeah, they're not bad. I don't know all of their stuff, but their latest stuff is really good. Are you a fan?"
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Post by Ilsa Richmond on Feb 16, 2013 12:15:19 GMT -5
"You're the only one that really matters," he told her, leaning in for a kiss. Really, when it came right down to it, Ramon didn't give a damn what anyone else thought of his music, as long as Ilsa liked it and believed in him. He would have been perfectly happy sitting on a beach somewhere with nothing but his guitar and Ilsa for the rest of his life. That was his definition of paradise. He was glad for the distraction, because Ramon was tempted to kiss her until she was breathless and had forgotten all about her pplan to flirt with the drummer. Instead, he looked over at the other two auditioners, whom he had only given a cursory glance when they came in. The younger of the two, who looked nervous as hell, was not familiar to Ramon. The other, however, was someone Ramon had crossed paths with on several occasions in the past. "I know him," he said. "His name's Troy. He's good. He was playing keyboards in one of the other bands at that competition I entered last year. He looks a lot better than the last time I saw him... I think he was in the middle of a breakdown." Ilsa never quite knew how true it was when he said things like that, but in the end, it didn't matter, either. She didn't question it because while the practical side of her (she couldn't dismiss the logic in her DNA entirely) said that he'd need and want more than just her approval in life, the part of her that was so passionately in love with him said that whatever they did need, they would end up figuring out. And Merlin, if that didn't get her mind going down a million different paths. Now was not the time, since this was a bit of a big deal, and she didn't want to distract. But soon, maybe even tonight, she wanted to ask him about where to go next. She was graduated, and the longer she stayed at home, the more she was going to get harassed by her parents about getting a respectable job and what not. What Ilsa wanted more than anything, absolutely anything, was to go work as a waitress for six hours a day, to get to talk to a thousand different people, and then come home to Ramon. Did she want to waitress forever? Of course not. Just for now, until she was bored and didn't feel as passionate about it. But she wanted to come home to Ramon for the rest of her life. If he'd have her, she would move in tonight, regardless of her parents' inevitable protests. Instead of saying all of this out loud, she just gave him her best encouraging smile. "Then what are we doing here? I already think you're incredible." |
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Post by Cameron Wilder on Feb 16, 2013 12:24:52 GMT -5
Cameron was listening to Troy with keen interest, and wondered if this was what he was going to be in 15 years- or maybe 10 years? He couldn't tell how old this guy was, but that was besides the point. His mother, and even Nina, especially Nina, seemed to push this music thing. He knew he was talented, having gotten that gift from his mother. But he also had no doubt that this guy was talented, too, especially being able to play at least five instruments that Cameron mentally ticked off in his head. And yet, they were both sitting at the same audition.
There was also that small fear that he never voiced that he would a raving lunatic in a few years, incapable at what would still be so young an age. He knew the way he could see music wasn't normal, and he didn't know yet if it was a good thing or a bad thing. So, realistically, if he pursued music, he would be broke, decidedly not famous, and crazy. That was a good start.
"I play the drums, too," Cameron offered, after having given Troy a smile for the comment about guitars. He saw the appeal in the piano, thinking that his mother never seemed more ethereally perfect than when she was playing. "Actually, I quite like the drums. How long have you been playing?"
Troy seemed willing to talk, and it was calming Cameron, so he was willing to keep it going. He would feel infinitely better when he had an instrument in his hands.
"If I'm being honest, I'm not a huge fan of the lyrics of 90% of their stuff. But whoever writes their music is brilliant."
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Post by Troy Wexler on Feb 19, 2013 0:45:10 GMT -5
"Lyrics are tough," Troy agreed, nodding. "I never was good with words. I think that's why I like classical music best... it conveys a message and a feeling without the use of words. But there's not much money to be made as a classical pianist, and a guy's gotta eat, you know?"
He chuckled lightly and set down the bass. He didn't exactly think he would be a good role model for anyone, let alone a young kid fresh out of school. But he liked the kid and he hoped he did well, whether he got the spot with the band or not.
"If my mum is to be believed, she says I was playing music in the womb," Troy cracked. "I can't say I remember that, but I do remember having this little toy piano that I played with when I was about 3 or 4. Not long after that, I started playing on the real thing, and the rest is history. I haven't played the others quite as long, but at least since I was in school. How about you?"
And then, as an afterthought, he added, "Hey, uh... I didn't get your name. I'm Troy."
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Post by Cameron Wilder on Feb 22, 2013 2:26:51 GMT -5
Cameron shrugged. "Lyrics are... unnecessary. But that's just me." Lyrics were pointless, because music was a language all on its own, and if he had words he wanted to say, he could do it without the soundtrack. But music had a way of conveying feeling that he couldn't put into words. That's where the real magic was.
He leaned back, infinitely more relaxed now that he was in conversation with this bloke. And, listening to him talk about music and the instruments he played, Cameron felt connected with him. "I'm pretty sure my mom's said that about me, too," Cameron replied. He probably should have been wary of Troy, but there was something about him that just registered with Cameron. He knew, without a doubt in his naive mind, that this was a good person.
"My mom's a pianist. She had me started really young... probably, and I'm not exaggerating, before I could walk. I picked up the violin next. Drums are more recent... and the guitar is just what's stuck. There's an American musician who says that the piano is his wife, and the guitar is his dirty mistress. I kind of relate."
He shrugged, reaching out to shake Troy's hand, though he noted that the other man did not offer his hand with his introduction. "Troy," he repeated the name. "I'm Cameron."
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Post by Ramon Salvatore on Mar 6, 2013 23:16:01 GMT -5
Ilsa never quite knew how true it was when he said things like that, but in the end, it didn't matter, either. She didn't question it because while the practical side of her (she couldn't dismiss the logic in her DNA entirely) said that he'd need and want more than just her approval in life, the part of her that was so passionately in love with him said that whatever they did need, they would end up figuring out. And Merlin, if that didn't get her mind going down a million different paths. Now was not the time, since this was a bit of a big deal, and she didn't want to distract. But soon, maybe even tonight, she wanted to ask him about where to go next. She was graduated, and the longer she stayed at home, the more she was going to get harassed by her parents about getting a respectable job and what not. What Ilsa wanted more than anything, absolutely anything, was to go work as a waitress for six hours a day, to get to talk to a thousand different people, and then come home to Ramon. Did she want to waitress forever? Of course not. Just for now, until she was bored and didn't feel as passionate about it. But she wanted to come home to Ramon for the rest of her life. If he'd have her, she would move in tonight, regardless of her parents' inevitable protests. Instead of saying all of this out loud, she just gave him her best encouraging smile. "Then what are we doing here? I already think you're incredible." Ramon raised his eyebrow at her teasingly. "This was your idea, remember?" he pointed out. She was always more ambitious for him than he was. Yes, he had to admit that it was necessary to have money to get by, but if it weren't, Ramon would have been perfectly happy to just play his guitar and stay with her all the time. He didn't care about fame or stardom or success... or even money, really. But Ilsa believed in him, she supported him and give him strength. As long as they were together, Ramon was certain they could do anything. He leaned in and kissed her lightly. "Just promise me you won't flirt too much with the drummer, OK? I can't be held responsible for my own jealousy where you're concerned." |
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Post by Troy Wexler on Mar 6, 2013 23:37:09 GMT -5
Troy shook the kid's hand, noting that he had a firm, confident grip despite his nervousness. Troy could respect that, especially since he was the first to admit that his own grip was usually rather shaky. Today he was feeling more confident than usual, though, so hopefully it wasn't too bad.
Laughing at the reference, Troy nodded. "I know what you mean. Only I suppose I have a lot of mistresses, if that's the case. I sometimes find it hard to pick a favorite... I just play whatever instrument strikes me at the moment."
He didn't mention that the term "wife" and "mistress" didn't have much relevance in his life. It didn't really matter, ultimately, because he understood the meaning and it still made sense to him. But it did make him wonder a little.
Yes, Cameron was a good-looking kid. He was young, probably too young for Troy. And Troy's innate sense of "gaydar" didn't really pick up anything from him. It could be hard to tell sometimes, though, especially for younger guys. Troy was pretty good at figuring these things out, though. You just had to ask the right questions.
"Nice to meet you, Cameron. So, tell me... what made you decide to audition today? Did your girlfriend put you up to it?"
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Post by Cameron Wilder on Mar 7, 2013 21:06:14 GMT -5
Semantics aside, Cameron actually related very well with the analogy. The guys he went to school with knew he could play drums and guitar, and he tended to keep the more classical instruments a secret, but he even played them differently. With the piano, he was gentle and careful and almost tender with that music, respecting the art and the grace. He could get dirty with the guitar, though, playing that music a little rougher, experimenting more.
He was also keenly aware that this, too, was not a normal way of viewing music and instruments, but it was just how he understood them. He didn't have to explain it to anyone, so he didn't. But if he were going to play music for a girl like Brenda, it would be on the guitar. The piano was saved for someone more like his mother or...
Or Savannah.
When Troy asked why he was here, he winced noticeably, but it was quickly followed by an easy going laugh. "Ah, God, no. My mom and her sister talked me into it. My mom's convinced that I can make a living in music. Until that happens, I'm bartending, you know?" Then, being young and unbelievably unaware of things, he returned the question. "Why, did your..." He glanced quickly to look for a ring before finishing "... Girlfriend?"
(Well if that answer didn't make him seem flaming.)
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Post by Troy Wexler on Mar 10, 2013 0:23:29 GMT -5
Troy let out a laugh. "Yeah, sounds like my mum. But she's right, really. You can make a living in music if you really want it. Most of us will never become rich and famous from it, but you can make a living. You just have to be versatile. The fact that you can play multiple instruments is a good thing... I get a lot of my gigs helping out local bands and filling in for sick or absent members... kinda like this. But I usually supplement by bartending or waiting tables. Right now I'm working at Ambrosia... you heard of it?"
Troy took notice of the way Cameron checked for a ring... it wasn't something straight guys commonly did to other guys. He wasn't sure what to make of it in this case. Cameron was no innocent, he was pretty sure of that. But he didn't give off that vibe. Troy just decided to come right out and say it, rather than keep dancing around the issue. Unlike Eddie had always been, Troy tended to be a bit more open about his sexuality.
"No, definitely no girlfriend," he replied. "I just recently broke up with my boyfriend, actually."
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Post by Cameron Wilder on Mar 17, 2013 19:57:24 GMT -5
Cameron barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Really, he was okay if he never did anything great with his music. And while he didn't necessarily want to be rich and famous from his music, if he was making it, he wanted people to know it was his. Playing in a restaurant or back up in a band just... it didn't really sound like his thing. He liked singer songwriters, who often played with no band, but their music was real, often gritty, and you could appreciate the honesty in it. That was up his alley... so again, he wondered why he was here. Still, the experience would be good for him.
"Yeah, we'll see. How long have you been at Ambrosia?"
Checking for the ring had just been polite, and he didn't even think about it, though maybe it was a hobby that Nina taught him. He didn't want to just assume the guy was married, though. When Troy let out the bit that there was really no woman romantically linked to him, Cameron's eyebrows went up, and he let out a little "Oh." That lifestyle wasn't often talked about, though Cameron had nothing against it, and he just honestly hadn't seen it coming. "Sorry to hear that, mate." He didn't know what else to say, other than he too had just come out of a break up, but it wasn't all that excited or unanticipated, and he didn't want to try to one up the guy any way. "Was he a musician, too?"
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Post by Troy Wexler on Mar 20, 2013 0:33:50 GMT -5
Troy could relate to the idea of wanting to make his mark on music, only he was convinced it would come in the form of the symphony that he had been composing in secret over the last couple of years. Eddie knew about it, as did Harper, and they each had heard bits and pieces of it. But no one had ever heard the entire thing. It was always growing and changing and evolving, anyway. He had a feeling he would never actually finish it, not until he died. But it was the legacy he intended to leave behind.
"Just a couple of months," he said, shrugging. "I change jobs a lot. I get bored."
Cameron didn't need to hear the whole story, so Troy left it at that. Ultimately, that was probably what it really came down to. He self-destructed when he got bored. If things were going too well, Troy just had to destroy it. He'd go off his meds, he'd fall apart, lose his job, and end up in a violent fit of depression. It was a cycle that never seemed to end.
"Well, you're not moving away from me, so I guess you're not totally put off by it," Troy said, giving Cameron a smile. "He's a chef, actually. And he was right to break up with me. I'm not over it... but I'm working on it."
In a way, it was his recent encounter with Eddie that had convinced Troy to try out for this audition. Eddie had always encouraged Troy in his music, and maybe... just maybe, he could make Eddie proud of him if he succeeded. At the very least, it would give him a distraction that might help keep him from going back on the self-destruct cycle again.
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Post by Ilsa Richmond on Aug 5, 2013 0:45:36 GMT -5
Ramon raised his eyebrow at her teasingly. "This was your idea, remember?" he pointed out. She was always more ambitious for him than he was. Yes, he had to admit that it was necessary to have money to get by, but if it weren't, Ramon would have been perfectly happy to just play his guitar and stay with her all the time. He didn't care about fame or stardom or success... or even money, really. But Ilsa believed in him, she supported him and give him strength. As long as they were together, Ramon was certain they could do anything. He leaned in and kissed her lightly. "Just promise me you won't flirt too much with the drummer, OK? I can't be held responsible for my own jealousy where you're concerned." Ilsa just grinned at hi,. Yes, this was her idea. She wanted him to audition so badly- and not because she wanted him to be with this band. Though, if they chose him, wonderful. She didn't need him to have fame and fortune either, although the idea of playing to a crowd of thousands every other night, and walking off stage together was extremely appealing to her. She just wanted him to be heard. His music was great, and it made her feel things that nothing else could. His music made her feel like a normal girl- not some failure to her parents, even if that was self exaggerated. It made her feel like she belonged somewhere, and that was huge. If it could do that for her, then there had to be tons of people who would be moved by him, too. This whole process would be great for him. That grin lessened though, and she caught his gaze. "I won't flirt with him at all, if you tell me not to." She said this in all seriousness, because if he asked it of her, she would refrain. It was a solid plan to get drum lessons, but she could figure out another way. |
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Post by Cameron Wilder on Aug 5, 2013 1:38:44 GMT -5
Cameron shook his head quickly. "No. Not put off by it. I don't... uh... know a lot about that. But whatever works." He shrugged, stopping himself from sounding like an idiot. His aunt was somewhat convinced she'd accidentally gotten married on top of an elephant in Thailand. Really, who was Cameron to judge what anyone did with their life?
"I've been told that artists are hard to love," he said, asking himself after every sentence why he was still talking. He shrugged about it, though, wondering if it were true. "I guess I can see it. Not that I'd call myself an artist at all, but I don't see things the same way most people do, and I've heard we can get a little out of line."
He was pretty sure he'd be labeled as crazy if he told anyone that he heard colors. His mom knew, because when you were 5 or so, you didn't know not to mention that. But she was the only one, for now.
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