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Rory looked around at the mess in her outer living room and she wasn’t pleased. As if one self-entitled celebrity wasn’t enough, she now had to deal with a whole room of them. While the old man, who was their manager, had been humble and kind, the rest were typical spoiled brats. Especially the blond one, Mickey, who Lizzy seemed to be extra gaga over.
Not only did he have a very punchable face and those ridiculous clothes, but he was also full of himself. While sitting there listening to them panic about a little storm, Rory wondered what made a man dress like that.
“No smoking here!” she exclaimed as she saw Mickey light up a cigarette.
“What? What the… Why?” he whined.
“Relax, Mickey. We’ll be out of here in no time and then you can smoke all you want.” Don shushed him and then smiled apologetically at Rory.
“It's looking pretty bad out there.” Lizzy, who had stayed perched by the window, had seemingly transformed herself from chef to weather girl. When they had storms, either they lasted all of two minutes or they would go on for half a day. This one looked more like the latter.
Lizzy was jumpy like a little dog, staring at everyone in the room constantly. Rory could tell that she was having the time of her life, surrounded by celebs she loved. Insurrection, what kind of stupid name is that? she wondered.
The room was deathly silent and the only sound was that of Mickey pacing around impatiently and mumbling something or other to himself. Arsen sat with his body sagging on the couch, not bothering to interact with anyone. Rory wondered how he didn’t show any pain on his face since his ankle was badly injured. I would’ve been crying and moaning like crazy.
“Nice place you got here.” Don was trying to make polite conversation and as much as Rory wasn’t in the mood for it, she offered him a polite smile. Just when she was about to speak up to reply, there was a loud crack of lightning. With that, all the lights in the house went out.
The pitch darkness and the loud thunderstorm had taken everyone by shock.
“Oh my God. That was scary!” Lizzy was the first one to speak as she slid up to Mickey, sneakily putting her hand in his.
“What the hell was that and why is it so damn dark?” Mickey was annoyed.
“The power’s out,” Don said, as he turned on the flashlight on his cell phone. As much as Rory wanted them gone, she knew that sitting in the outer living room with those big glass windows around wasn’t going to make anyone comfortable. She had to invite them in.
“There is a drawing room in there. A smaller one, but it won’t be as loud there. Perhaps we should go in,” she said.
“Good idea.” Don stood up. ”Lead the way.”
Rory told Lizzy to take them in and went to the kitchen to get a bunch of candles. The inner drawing room was smaller, but much cozier. Her grandmother used it to entertain her close friends, while the outer one was for anyone who’d visit her, and owing to her social status on the island, a lot of people did.
As Rory entered the room, everyone was sitting around quietly, feeling relieved to be in this cozy, warm room. Arsen was lodged by her grandmother’s old piano, sitting with his back to it. Mickey had his shoes on the coffee table and was busy clicking selfies. It took one long, unfriendly look from Rory for him to take his feet off the table.
In no time, Rory and Lizzy had put candles all over the room, and now it was well lit and looked rather pretty. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of doing this before.
“This is pretty fucking cool. Like in that Guns n’ Roses song.” Mickey smiled, looking around.
“Yeah, man, totally,” Bobby replied. Rory realized that the other guy who had come in with Mickey hadn’t spoken at all and seemed lost in his own thoughts. The thunder still came in waves, but in here its sound was muted.
As she sat on the sofa, she heard the sound of a piano note. Then another and then some more. Her back was to him, but she could tell that Arsen was the one noodling on the piano. Soon notes were flying out of his fingers and she was genuinely surprised at his proficiency at the instrument. It sounded magical to her ears, and for a moment she thought she knew the song he was playing.
It was soothing, the soft manner in which Arsen threw in those sweet notes. It didn’t even need a singer, the music just sang by itself. Rory noticed Lizzy swaying with the music already and a smile made its way to her face. Just then Mickey Nicks stood up, put on his rockstar face, and broke into the lyrics of “Hey Jude.” Ah! So that’s how I know this song, she thought.
“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better…” Mickey’s high-pitched, yet melodious voice, rang through the room. Bobby instantly joined him and started singing a harmony, layering a strong bass counterpoint to Mickey’s voice. As extravagant as these rock stars were, Rory couldn’t help but admit that even with just a piano they were doing a beautiful job.
The other guy with them, the silent one, started tapping a percussive beat on the coffee table and Rory heard Lizzy let out an excited yelp. Lizzy sat there with her hands clasped, her eyes wide open, unable to believe what was happening. Rory wondered why she couldn’t be more like Lizzy, why she also couldn’t let her hair down for a bit and just enjoy the moment.
The last person to play this piano had been her grandmother, who loved playing “Amazing Grace” on it. She would get the whole family together and they would sing old sta
ndards. It was perhaps the only time that she felt comfortable in the company of her parents. The piano itself was nothing special, but it was her grandmother’s and it meant everything to Rory. She had always made sure that she called in a tuner at regular intervals to maintain it.
Rory had to admit that the way Arsen was playing the piano made it sound much better than it ever had before. The instrument seemed to sing on Arsen’s command and Rory found herself humming the tune, unable to stop herself from being overpowered by this moment. Even Don had started half mouthing the words in his tuneless voice as he pulled out a hip flask out of the inner pocket of his jacket and took a swig. By the time they were approaching the refrain, everyone was clapping and singing along.
Their voices formed a wonderful harmony and echoed through the high ceilings of her grandmother’s old house. Rory reluctantly turned around to look at Arsen, who was sitting with his back to her, his head bobbing slightly in rhythm with his playing.
“...na na na na na, Hey Jude,” sang Mickey, doing his best to out-sing the rest.
Everyone was singing and clapping in sync and the mood in the room had transformed. The warm glow of the candles added that extra bit of visual touch that was complimentary to the vibe of the song. Rory’s eyes met Lizzy’s and they both smiled at each other. If someone had told her twenty-four hours ago that the biggest rock band in the world would be in her house singing “Hey Jude,” she would’ve told them to take a hike.
