The Audition

“Come on slowpoke! I don’t have all night.”

“Relax, you don’t even know the way to my apartment.” I said, following closely behind her.

After a few minutes of walking, we arrived at my apartment. We made our way inside and Sunny looked around.

“Nice place,” she said. “Real punk rock.”

I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or sarcastic. Regardless, I went into the closet and dug out my bass amplifier. I plugged it in as she took her bass out of the case and got it set up. Once everything was ready, I sat down on the couch.

“There’s a stereo right there,” I said, pointing to it. “You can plug your phone into it if you want to play along to a backing track.”

She nodded and plugged her phone in. It started playing a song I had never heard before. Sunny started nodding her head along to the tempo, and joined in right on cue with the bass player in the song.

She was good, like seriously good. Eight out of ten? No, she was nearly a ten out of ten in my book. In fact, I could tell that she was probably better at bass than I was at guitar. As she continued the song, I became completely entranced by her playing.

When the song stopped, she unplugged her bass and started packing it up.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

“What are you talking about? That was great!”

Her face lit up. “Really? Even though I flubbed a note in the bridge?”

“Yeah, that’s not a song I’m familiar with, so I couldn’t even tell.”

“Oh, I thought that song was pretty well-known, can I have another shot at playing something you do know?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Any requests?”

“Do you know anything by Parallax?”

“That band again?” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I already told you, they’re my favorite.”

She sighed. “Alright, give me a sec.”

She scrolled through her phone for a few moments before selecting a song. The song she selected was a deep cut off one of their lesser-known albums. She put on an act of not being a fan, but if this is the first song she thought of playing, she must secretly like them.

The song came to an end and she had a dejected look on her face.

“I’m sorry, I messed it up again.”

“What? No, I didn’t hear anything wrong!”

“In the pre-chorus I missed a hammer-on and just played two consecutive notes instead.”

“Nobody would ever be able to tell!”

“But I can tell. I know that I messed up, and your band deserves a better bass player than that. I heard your playing, you don’t make any mistakes.”

“That’s not true! I make plenty of mistakes, I just know how to disguise them. So many famous guitar players make all kinds of mistakes in their songs, and those mistakes quickly get recognized by fans as quirks of their music. Eventually, what was once a mistake, becomes something that hundreds of guitar players try to emulate when playing their music.”

She nodded. “Yeah but…”

I cut her off. “Plus, mistakes or not, you’re a seriously good bass player. Who cares if you make a few mistakes? A little practice will iron those right out. You’ve got better rhythm and technique than any other bassist I’ve heard live.”

“Where are you going with this?” She asked.

“You’re a great bass player, and I’d love for you to join my band.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

“Really.”

She was trying her best to maintain her composure, but I could tell that she was really excited to get in. “So what now? When’s the first band practice?”

“How about now?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, I still don’t have a phone, so I won’t be able to schedule anything for a little while, so how about we jam now?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Alright, but just for a little bit.”

I grabbed my guitar off the wall and she picked out another song. I had never played with another musician before, I was always a solo act. There was something amazing about playing alongside someone else, it felt as if the song came alive. I looked over at her and could tell she was having fun as well. When the song came to an end, she picked up her phone and handed it to me.

“Your turn,” she said.

I picked another song and we got right back into it. Although we initially intended to only play a few songs, we were so in the zone that we lost track of time, and ended up jamming for several hours. By the time we had finished it was already dark.

She wiped the sweat off her forehead. “That was so much fun, we’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“Of course we will, we’re a band now.”

“Oh yeah!” she said, giggling.

She packed up her bass, slung the travel case over her shoulder and headed to the door.

“Alright, I’ll be seeing you!” She said, swinging the door open. Rain was coming down hard. She just stood in the doorway, dumbfounded.

“Just my luck,” she said. “Whenever something finally goes right, God has to take it all away from me.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just a little rain.” I said, trying to comfort her.

“But I can’t get home without ruining my bass.”

That was true, her cloth case was likely water resistant, but with that much rain there was no doubt it would be soaked all the way through by the time she got home.

“You could leave it here overnight.” I suggested.

“Leave it with the broke boy who can’t even afford a cell phone? I think I’ll pass, thanks. It'll probably end up in a pawn shop before morning.”

“Hey! I’d never even think of selling an instrument to a pawn shop! There’s a music store down the street that’d pay much more for it.”

She glared at me.

“That was a joke! I’d never sell someone else’s instrument.”

She kept glaring at me.

“Well, if you don’t want to leave your bass here, you’ve only got one option left,” I said.

She sighed. “I know. Do you have an umbrella?”

“What? No! I meant you can spend the night here.”

Her face went bright red. “Stay the night?! Are you crazy! I can’t stay the night with a boy I just met! What kind of girl do you think I am!”

“Hey! I’m not that kind of boy either!” I shouted, turning red too. “It can’t be helped! I can tell that’s an expensive bass, and I’d hate to see it ruined by the rain. Plus, we’re bandmates now. We’ll be spending a lot of time together from now on, what does it matter if that time is during the day or during the night.”

Still red as a tomato, she looked me in the eyes. “Promise you won’t try anything funny.”

“I promise.”

“Alright, I’ll spend the night here.”