“It’s not that interesting to watch someone sew.”
“I can amuse myself while you work on your stuff.”
We went back inside and confirmed that my housemates still didn’t need any help before heading upstairs. When we reached the studio, I indicated the stuffed squirrel and asked, “When should we put Operation Hostage Situation into effect?”
“I think I’d rather keep the squirrel and forget about my security deposit.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I really don’t want any more contact with the creep.”
I patted the stuffed squirrel on its startled little head and told it, “Looks like you’re part of the family now, buddy.”
Devon made himself comfortable while I selected a pink satin bustier and sat down to do some beadwork. After a minute, he asked, “Will it bother you if I play some music? I’ll keep the volume down.”
I told him that was fine and assumed he’d pull up some music on his phone. Instead, he picked up his electric guitar and carried it over to the twin bed in the corner. After moving some boxes aside, he sat down on the mattress and took a few minutes to tune the instrument.
When he began picking out a song in fits and starts, I teased, “And here I thought you knew how to play that thing.”
He pushed his overgrown hair out of his eyes and looked up from what he was doing with a smirk. “I can play the hell out of this. I was trying to compose a song, which is why it sounded choppy.”
“Okay, then let’s hear what you can do.”
“It sounds a lot better with the amp, but that also makes it louder.”
“Go ahead and plug it in. Give me the full Devon-in-concert experience.”
“If I do that, it’s definitely going to be distracting.”
“That’s fine. I’m working on a personal project, so there’s no deadline or anything.”
He said, “Alright,” and got up to retrieve the amp.
After setting up his equipment, he sat back down on the edge of the bed and told me, “So, this is my take on Nirvana’s version of a David Bowie song.”
He then proceeded to completely blow me away by singing “The Man Who Sold The World.” He had an outstanding voice with a sexy rasp, and he played the guitar like a seasoned pro.
When he finished, I blurted, “My god, Devon, that was incredible!”
“Yeah? You thought it was okay?”
“No. I thought it was astonishing! You’re unbelievably talented.” He seemed surprisingly shy as he muttered a thank you, and I asked, “How long have you been performing?”
“I don’t perform. I sing in the shower, and I started learning to play the guitar three years ago. It was one of the top items on my bucket list.”
“Well, I’m here to tell you you’re great at it.”
“I practice a lot. I’m the type of person who always needs to be doing something with my hands. The guitar is perfect for that.”
“You really should perform for an audience.”
He smiled at me. “I just did.”
“Of more than one! You belong on a stage.”
“That’s actually another item on my bucket list, but I’ve been putting it off.”
“Why? Don’t tell me someone as outgoing as you has stage fright.”
