Chapter Text
Rey took a deep breath and let her bow touch the strings to breathe the first notes to life. The cello held magic for her, it always had. It woke up something deep inside of her that could only be expressed through the ringing music. Every breath sang. Every note spoke.
“Watch that note there. You’re just a tad long,” Luke, her mentor, interrupted her thoughts and broke the spell.
She glanced up at him in annoyance. “The orchestra will follow me. That’s the point,” she said.
“That doesn’t mean you can hold your notes out as long as you please.”
“Actually,” she muttered under her breath. “It does.”
This was only a warm-up, a moment of peace before she would walk out on stage and into the spotlight. The last thing she needed was another pointer from the overly-picky Luke Skywalker. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his input. He had pulled her up from the gutter to become one of the most promising young celloists in Coruscant. But he had honed his craft in a different climate, a different generation, and her music didn’t sound the same as his. It couldn’t, if it were truly to be hers. He must have read her thoughts on her face because his own softened.
“You’ll play wonderfully tonight, Rey, no matter how long you hold out your notes,” he said, and she gave him a reluctant smile. “I’m sorry.”
Rey accepted his apology with a nod and started fingering through her scales instead. The constant run of notes, the order, the complete sense to it, the return to basics always helped re-center her. Whenever she felt nervous before a performance, she always returned to this. It reminded her of a little girl with a cello too big for her arms.
A woman stuck her head through the door. “They’re ready for her.”
Rey took another deep breath to steady her nerves. She could do this. She could play this piece in her sleep. Luke grasped her free hand in his.
“Show them who you are, Rey,” he said simply.
She stepped out into the spotlight.
~ ~ ~
The bright lights blinded Ben as he stepped onto stage, feeling his band at his back keenly. From what he could see through the piercing stage lights, a decent crowd had filled the bar to see them. They’d gathered a decent local crowd, although not near enough to score a real recording contract with anyone. They made their rounds at bars and held down day jobs to keep things going.
“Hello!” he called to the crowd, which met him with cheers. “We’re the Stormpilots! Let’s kick it off with a new one, shall we?”
Ben had never been very good at working the crowd. He wished one of the others would take over that job. But he supposed that it did fall under his job description, as both lead vocalist and lead guitarist. He struck up the song to alleviate his embarrassment. Being behind the microphone was a safer alternative.
Wide-eyed with a heart made full of fright, he sang. Your eyes follow like tracers in the night…
It was late when Ben finally stepped off the stage, guitar case in hand. Phasma followed him down, her bright blonde hair blue in the lights of the bar they’d been playing. It wasn’t empty by any means and he could see several fans eyeing them up, perhaps hoping they could snag some of the band members for a drink. Ben had absolutely no interest in that. Luckily for him – or unluckily, he couldn’t decide – Phasma had other plans, as always.
“Ben, there’s a great party downtown tonight. We should go,” she pestered.
Ben rolled his eyes. “Not tonight, Phas, please. I’m tired.”
“You’re old is what you are. Come on, Ben! We’re young! It’s Friday night! Let’s go get drunk on someone else’s alcohol.”
The idea didn’t sound totally repulsive when she put it like that. Phasma did always seem to have the inside scoop on the best parties. Except for that one she had dragged him to last fall…well, they didn’t talk about that one. Hux jumped off the stage, landing between them, followed by Poe, who threw his arms around both Ben and Hux’s shoulders, even though they towered over him and the action brought his elbows up to his ears.
“This party sounds fun,” Poe said. He may have taken advantage of a beer or two before going on stage. Ben was just glad he had refrained enough to keep from tripping into his drum set. Again.
Even Hux agreed.
They all looked to him expectantly and Ben groaned. “Alright, fine. But we’re dropping the instruments off at my place first.”
Phasma beamed. “I promise, Ben, it’ll be so worth it. This party is going to change your life.”
~ ~ ~
“Come on, Rey, it won’t be any fun without you!” Rose tugged on her hand and tried to pull her out of their shared apartment. Rey hadn’t even gotten the chance to change yet. She still wore the ridiculous white dress she’d performed in. Rose had probably only let them come back to the apartment to avoid lugging a cello and a violin around a party. “Finn’s agreed to go too.”
Great, Rey thought. Two against one. “Whose party did you say this was again?”
Rose waved her hand like the thought was a pesky bug and not a very necessary piece of information. “Friend of a friend. It’s in this great converted warehouse downtown. Come on!”
“Finn really agreed to go, right?” she asked warily. She counted Rose as her best friend, but she got easily distracted at parties and Finn had the tendency to stick closer to her.
“Yes! Can we please leave now?” Rose asked.
“Fine, but can’t I at least change?” she protested.
Rose relented at that, but it didn’t stop her from following Rey into her room and scrutinizing what she’d chosen to wear instead.
“I promise, Rey, it’ll be so worth it. This party is going to change your life,” Rose declared.
“That’s an overstatement if I ever heard one,” Rey muttered to herself.