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“I’m in a band now,” Caitlyn Kiramman says, over the phone.
Viktor remembers seeing that, somewhere. Vaguely. A rock band of some sort, which had been unsettling to hear; Caitlyn had been one of the more talented students he’d ever mentored, and she had stepped off of the path that he has devoted his life to.
But she sounds proud to say it, so he finds himself smiling as he says, “I’ve heard.”
“Yeah? Um. Well. There’s a gig on Saturday. It pays.” He hears a sharp inhale, an exhale, and then she confesses, “We need someone who can play keys.”
Viktor is pursuing his PhD in musicology. He also needs to make rent.
“Viktor might be a bad idea for you right now,” Vi says, straight to the point.
“Fuck off,” Jayce responds. “You know I didn’t mean anything by it. All talk, like you said.”
“Not a lot of folks Cupcake calls in a crisis. She says he’s a nice guy. You’re not crashing out, but Viktor deserves better than to be treated like a rebound without knowing, and if you make shit weird for him and Cait, I’m going to hand you your ass.”
Jayce is a great drummer. He’s just not great at being casual.
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