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Say, we’ll stay forever side by side
Oh, Celine, if only you could see me
Kiss me now, don’t let me go
Oh, Celine, I’m thinking always of you
Say, we’ll stay forever side by side”
Oh boy! If you could see me now, Celine!I contort my face into a wry smirk.It’s really better she can’t.Weirdly, I feel relief. The following chords come off my hand with renewed energy:
“Say, we’ll stay forever side by side
Say, we’ll stay forever side by side
Say, we’ll stay forever side by side”
Now just a few more bars and I’m out of the minefield of this song text. Full of concentration, I focus on keeping up speed and not letting the audience feel my emotional confusion.
“Stay forever side by side, side by side
Stay forever side by side, side by side”
Supported by the pedal, I let the last note fade out. I take a deep breath, grab my glass and let the rest of the apple juice spritzer run down my throat.
Although there are actually two more songs before the next break, I spontaneously decide to take one.
I straighten up on the piano stool, let my shoulders roll, and am about to stand up when…
“Excuse me?” A voice tuning all the strings in me to emotion hits me in the neck. “Could you please tell me who requested the summer hit byYünüs della Luna?”
Very slowly, I turn to her. Not daring to hope what my imagination is telling me right now is true. But when I look up at her, it is really her standing there.Today’s birthday girl.The woman I wouldn’t have expected to see here in my lifetime. Especially today. “Oh. Celine.”
“That’s right,Oh Celine. That’s the title… But—” She interrupts herself and pauses. Then she leans down to me and peers under the wide brim, right into my face. “Wait! Philipp? Is that you?”
I push my hat back. “Celine.”Okay, stammering anything but her name is thick as a board.But in the stupid bean straw suddenly filling my head, I miss the words to make a sentence that makes sense.Should I congratulate her?Or would she find it creepy that I memorized this information? Which is, in a sense, intimate?I hate having so utterly no experience with dealing with women like her.
“Philipp.” In any event, even she doesn’t bother me with polished phrases. “What are you doing here?”
I smirk, not sure why, either. Probably because my brain has just decided to play ignorant about her day of honor. Then I grab two chords on the keyboard. “Playing the piano.”
She snorts. Puckers her lips into a wry smile. “I can see that,” she notes. “And… you sing?”
Well.“I do my best.”
“Wicked fantabulous, this hottie sings better thanYünüs—and is totally modest at the same time,” the strawberry blonde notes, wrapping her curvy body around the edge of the turquoise piano.
What is she still doing here?I had completely forgotten her presence.
“Are you…?” asks Celine, pointing her finger back and forth between me and the redhead.
I shake my head, whereupon she whips around to the uninvited third party.
“You’re interrupting,” she informs her curtly. Then she turns to me. “Move aside.”
Oh shit, what a tone of voice!I refrain from objecting and take a seat at the far end of the two-person piano bench. I wouldn’t come up with anything sensible anyway.
Celine lets herself plop down on the other half with a sigh.
