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Zhi held his sigh. So maybe not something directly in common with her. But sharing a passion with her mother, whom he knew she adored, wasn’t a bad thing.
“I keep telling her she loved rock 'n' roll,” Parker continued. “Which her parents thought was the devil's music."
“My mother loves classical music," said Zhi. “Especially full orchestras. She loves all parts playing both individually and then together as a whole."
Parker nodded thoughtfully, her eyes sliding off into the distance. Zhi’s eyes came again to the DJ. Her blue gaze sparkled, as though they delighted at his words. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard her whisper mine too.
"My mom and I don't see eye to eye on music," said Parker. "But she supports me in my business. She's the best person in the world, and I’d do anything for her."
Parker’s dark brown eyes were actually focused on him this time. Zhi felt a warmth spread through his chest. Finally, a true thread between the two of them. The devotion to one’s mother was something to build on. But before he could form a sentence, Parker changed the subject.
"Last night was a rage, right?” Her dark eyes were animated. Her brows pulsed up as though she were remembering the loud cacophony from the other night.
Zhi’s raging headache from the music threatened to come back. He was certain she didn’t share his feelings of annoyance about the noise from the other night. So, what could she possibly mean when she said rage?
Was she using the word as a noun? A verb? Maybe an adverb? But the verb in the sentence was was, wasn’t it?
"Yeah," DJ Spin spoke up. "We sure did party hard all night. Well, some of us anyway."
Zhi ignored the last bit which she said under her breath and focused on her helpful definition. Oh. Parker had meant the party was a success. Well, maybe not by his standards, but he didn’t need to let her know that.
"You didn't look like you were enjoying yourself," said Parker. "You disappeared a little after midnight."
"I … yeah." Zhi fidgeted. “Well, it wasn’t exactly my kind of music. No offense."
That last bit was tossed over to the DJ who was standing with her hands resting on her hips. She shrugged her shoulders. She was also wearing skinny jeans, but her t-shirt was tucked in, and he got no hint of skin. What he did get was a look at the graphic on her t-shirt.
There were two stick figures beneath the five horizontal lines of a music staff. Over top, the head of one stick figure was a rest note. The caption read “Stop. You’re under a rest.”
When Zhi’s gaze traveled back up to DJ Spin’s, she simply quirked an eyebrow at him. That eyebrow smirked at him as though to say “Oh, the words on my chest you can comprehend?”
"No offense taken,” said Spin. “I’ll hook a Stradivarius into the turntables the next time I gig.”
"A what?" Now it was Parker's turn to not understand the lingo.
"It's a violin,” DJ Spin translated before Zhi could. “It's expensive. Top-of-the-line. But it does make a beautiful sound. I’ve sampled one before."
“I thought I heard some Bach last night in your …” Zhi struggled to find the word.
“The word you’re looking for is music.” Spin’s hands moved from her hips to cross over her chest, covering up the rest notation.
There was something about her stance that made him want to go forward, not take a rest, and accept her challenge. He reminded himself that he was in pursuit of someone else. And so he turned back to Parker. "It was a great party."
"Yeah," Parker nodded her agreement. "People got pretty turnt.”
Zhi turned back to the DJ, waiting for the translation. She pursed her lips together for a long moment, but finally, she spat it out, spelling it out for him.
"Yeah, things got a little wild."
Oh. Turnt meant wild.
"Yeah," said Zhi. "It certainly was turned. Turned me around."
“Well, people are coming down now,” said Parker.
"Down to eat breakfast?” said Zhi. “Good, I'm starved."
Parker’s raised eyebrow and quizzical expression let Zhi knew he’d misinterpreted again. He looked over to the DJ who rolled her eyes and huffed a sigh.
