He tries to keep it together. He is generous in his introduction, talking as if he knows the wedded couple beyond their fondness for toasters. “It is extraordinary that you have built this kind of paradise together,” he says. “Not just for yourselves, but for everyone here. That is magnificent of you, and I am so honored to be able to add my humble song into the gift of your day.” The last part barely makes sense, but it sounds good, and now J can see Roger smiling like a pleased Medici. Celestia, however, is giving him a different kind of look—both vulnerable and curious. He recalls what Mikhail told him, how she thinks he has some insight into how this whole love thing is supposed to work. And that, he realizes, it what she’s looking for: some insight. She fought with Roger over getting rid of the old song, because for all its grandiose trappings, she still wants her wedding to be about love, so her marriage can be about love.
There’s really only one song that wants to be sung. If Celestia wants to him to sing something true about love, this is what he’s got. It’s only thing right now her money can buy—a possible path on the balance beam. Clumsily, he takes his phone out of his back pocket and pulls up the lyrics on his notes app.
“My girlfriend always tells me she prefers it when I improvise,” he says the crowd. Then he stops himself. Corrects himself. “No, that’s wrong. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s the woman I love. And she always tells me she prefers it when I improvise. So here’s a very new song about love. A song from my heart.” Then he looks straightat Celestia. “It’s about how messy it can get, but how you can push through that, so it all works out.”
She smiles then, a little less vulnerable, a little more curious, and he begins the song.
When we’ve had a fight
When we sit there in the stillness after the storm
Quiet like two butterflies dipped in chloroform
I think: Hold on
Just hold on
Remember it’s not always like this
We’re still working working working on our script
Working on a script
Working on a script
We’re working on the scene
Where a simple gesture like a laughter
gives away you’re really not an actor
And maybe it’s true
that I can trust you
Honey, forget all your lines
I like it better when you improvise
Working on a script
Working on a script
This is
the mapping
of what’s happening
when the credits have rolled
This is what happens
when two atoms
bump into each other
and explode
