Transcendent Function

The restaurant had filled up with a few more guests, but the noise level was still a far cry from Downtown. The warm yellow of the string lights created a cozy atmosphere and Kim had to yawn.

“Sleepy again?”

“Just a little bit. This time I'll keep going.”

“Maybe you should treat yourself to an espresso too?”

“I don't like the bitter taste.”

“Maybe the sugar will help.”

“Are you friends with Blake too?”

“Blake?”

“The third guy from last week.”

“Oh… Don't know him. Probably one of Gail's friends. He has more than enough of them.”

“Figured you're also more of a loner.”

“Like you?”

“Can't deny that.”

“Has it always been this way?”

“Well, I had a few friends in middle school. Three, or rather four.”

“Was that in your hometown? You never told me exactly where you're from.”

“Leer, small town further inland.”

“Did you like growing up there?”

“Yes, sometimes it was a bit annoying how manageable everything was. There, you couldn't just become invisible and do your own thing like you can here.”

“Invisible.”

“Of course, it has its advantages and disadvantages. There was always someone there when you needed something. Everyone knew each other. But accordingly, people also talked a lot about each other, and you quickly had a role assigned to you.”

“What was your role?”

“For a while, the well-behaved, quiet girl. The one that caused parents to ask their daughters why they weren't more like her.”

“A casus belli for those girls.”

“What?”

“A reason for conflict.”

“That's how it was. But I kept quiet, started playing the piano, and discovered music for myself.”

“Just because of the piano?”

“There was a record store that had a pretty good selection. I spent some time there with my friends when we started middle school. That's also when I started taking singing lessons.”

“Did you want to play the piano and sing?”

“My parents told me that I wanted to play the piano even as a very young girl. But I don't remember that. Singing was my mother's idea. I had a very quiet voice and was difficult to understand. But at home, I would often sing while playing. My mother then urged me to take lessons to become more aware of my voice.”

“And was it through the record store that you discovered indie music?”

“That was the starting point. I developed an interest in how electronic music was made. My father also got me a keyboard and bought two second-hand synthesizers during my middle school years.”

“When did it take off?”

“In my second year of high school. By then, I was known in town for my music and no longer for my reserved, polite manner. I also had gigs from time to time. In the beginning, I was often allowed to perform at various locations out of pity or amusement. But we became really, really good.”

“We?”

“Jamie and I. One of my friends back then.”

“Jamie? A boy or a girl?”

“Is this where you start to get jealous?”

“So, a boy. Were you two a couple?”

“No. But I don't want to talk about Jamie. Not now.”

“So it ended badly?”

“I said I don't want to talk about it.” Kim replied, agitated.

“Okay, okay, I'll back off.”

Kim felt bad. Both because she couldn't open up to Robert yet and because of the memories. She crossed her arms and looked at the floor. A shameful display of vulnerability. Self-loathing thoughts.

“Hey, I don't want to pick at old wounds or pressure you into anything. I just want to understand you better. I want to understand who you really are. Like deep down inside.”

“I know.”

She had to pull herself together.

“I know... Franca discovered me during a performance and saw potential in my music. For the first album, I traveled back and forth between my hometown and a recording studio nearby. I also shot a video for my first single. It was crazy. I felt like I was in a movie.”

A smile played around Kim's lips, and Robert seemed to regain his lightheartedness.

“I really must see that. Unfortunately, I don't have a TV. But I should be able to watch it at Gail's. He even has a VCR.”

“But then please without me. Otherwise, that would embarrass me too much.”

“Is there only one music video so far?”

“No, actually three. Because the first single was so successful, there were two more releases.”

“That sounds tempting. Which songs?”

Kim hemmed and hawed.

“Too late to be coy. I bought your album on Monday and know the titles. I just haven't seen the videos yet.”

“Whatever. Stage Blood, Don’t Go Yet and Bad Scene.”

“Nice, Stage Blood is my favorite.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Why is it your favorite?”

“Hmm, the lyrics kind of resonate with me. I mean, as I understand it, the song is about how living out an idea on stage is never the same as standing up for that same idea in real life. The point is that change must be fought for. It probably appealed to me because I tend to express my ideas only through my art.”

“You've really put a lot of thought into my songs.”

Kimberly blushed. For the first time, she felt as if someone was really getting close to her through her songs and learning things she never intended to reveal.

“Was it close to what you had in mind?”

“Pretty close.”

“I guess I got a little too close to you, huh?” Robert said with a wicked grin.

“Shut up. I’m just happy you kind of get it.”

Their waiter finally returned with the roast chicken. Large portions. Kim wasn't sure if she could manage.

“Here you go. Bon Appétit!”

The two first surveyed the mountain of poultry, potates and onions, richly covered with aromatics and then set to work.

“This is going to be a tough climb.” Kim remarked.

“Yeah, but it smells incredible.”

Both tried the chicken. Kim was blown away. The lemon flavor was throughout with a light mustard note.

For the next few minutes, they were busy eating and their conversation came to a halt. But when Robert had completed half and Kim just under three-quarters, both were hanging on by a thread.

“Wow. It’s really good, but I don’t think I can finish it.”

“It's a shame, but I feel the same way. But it was worth it, wasn't it?”

“Definitely. Do you go out to eat often, and have you been here before?”

“Not anymore. I used to eat out with my family, and we visited Leyland's once. But that was five or six years ago.”

“Your family.”

“Yeah, you've revealed quite a bit about yourself today. Is it my turn now?”

“Only what you feel comfortable with.”

Robert scratched his chin and seemed to ponder his options.

“Like Gail I grew up in Bayview, or Callant Hook to be precise. That's the peninsula northeast of the marina. I was also rather quiet as a child, but too quiet for my parents' liking. They expected more determination and for me to follow my brother's example.”

“Your brother’s example?”

“He was the model son, the heir apparent. Everything he touched turned to gold, and my parents showered him with praise.”

“The same brother who then left for New York?”

“Yes, and I can understand him well. It was more comfortable for me to be the black sheep. He had no role model. My father was hardly ever there and only commented on our achievements. He only knew how to fulfill everyone's expectations until there was nothing left but a simulacrum of himself, built from the opinions of others.”

“A simulacrum?”

“An imitation.”

“And you were always yourself?”

“Yeah, until he left. I thought I would have to take his place, but my parents had already written me off. A lot happened, but eventually I got tired of even trying and enrolled at the academy.”

“A lot happened?”

“Unpleasant memories.”

“I guess we're alike in that respect.”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell over their table. Soon their waiter reappeared.

“Is everything to your satisfaction?”

“Amazing flavor and aroma. Shall we get going?” Robert asked, turning to Kim.

She nodded.

“We would like to pay then.”

“Of course. I'll be back in a minute.”

They were alone again. Kim tentatively placed her hand on the table. An unspoken invitation. They looked at each other, no doubt in their eyes. Robert slid his hand under hers and enclosed it in his.