Page 32 of Naz & Roz

ELEVEN

Roz heard the final notes of the ballad echo into the room, but she didn’t really feel the music. Not like she usually would, anyway. Her mind was otherwise distracted. On something else entirely that didn’t include the shiny top of a piano, and ivory keys under her fingertips. She went through the motions of playing the song because she had to—practice, practice, practice was the mantra—but not because she was really feeling it.

“That’s … better,” she heard Kyle say quietly.

Roz glanced up from the keys of the piano to find the man watching her from the screen of the laptop. She’d been going through this same song—the one she intended to use for the Australia audition—for two hours. He wouldn’t let her play anything else. Not even to warm up her fingers. This was what she needed to play, he said.

Until she felt it in her bones.

Until she could breathe the fucking notes.

Until she thought about nothing else but this.

That was kind of hard to do when Rosalynn’s mind was entirely filled with something else now. She was far too busy lately thinking about Naz, and the next time she was going to get to see him or talk to him instead of playing the piano and preparing for this fucking audition.

And the bigger problem?

It wasn’t a problem for her at all.

She knew she was distracted. She knew her mind wasn’t in the right place. She knew her focus was gone.

She just didn’t see the problem.

Why was it such a bad thing that Roz was learning there were other things in the world to enjoy other than a fucking piano, and making music? Couldn’t she just enjoy this for a while?

“The song is good,” Kyle said again.

Roz sighed. “Thank you.”

As her mother would tell her, always thank someone when they give you a compliment. Even if it’s the very last thing you want to do. Kill them with kindness was her mother’s mantra.

“It’s not the song, though,” her mentor added after a beat of silence, “it’s the person playing it. You, obviously.”

Roz’s jaw clenched, but if Kyle saw it he didn’t say. She didn’t want her irritation to be clear to him, anyway. She didn’t want him figuring out there was something distracting her. His first and last mission at that point would be to remove Roz from the situation. To demand she return back to school, and the rigid structure of dorm life.

And no matter how many times she refused, he would still make it happen. That’s what a good mentor was supposed to do, anyway. Keep her on track, and make sure she was doing what she needed to do to get where she wanted to go with her career. He made the tough decisions, and whether she liked it or not, she would follow his demands.

The last thing Roz wanted right now—or ever—was to be taken away from Naz. Why would she want that when she was just getting to know him really?

Even if it felt like her heart had known him her whole life.

Even if she had known him her whole life …

They were just getting started.

“The person playing it has not yet learned to love it,” Kyle said quietly. “Or, that’s what it looks like to me, Rosalynn. You’re not putting yourself in the music. Why the detachment? You spent months composing this piece. It is your work come to life. These notes should be embedded in your bones, and for whatever reason, you look like a damn robot going through the motions right now. Why?”

Roz shrugged.

It was the best she could offer.

Not good enough for Kyle, though. Roz didn’t need him to say it for her to know. And if he didn’t tell her today, he would soon enough. That was a promise.

When she didn’t speak, Kyle just continued on like nothing was wrong to begin with, saying, “I noticed you changed the third stanza, and a bit of the chorus since the last time we went through it in its entirety.”

Which was last week …

The day before Naz took Roz out to breakfast for the first time. Every day after, he’d shown up at her parents’ house with that bike, his fucking grin, and a promise to do something fun. He never failed in finding something fun for them to do, either.