Chapter Text
The rehearsal room had been quiet for a good forty minutes. It was not, however, a pleasant kind of silence. It was the kind of silence that came after something particularly exhausting, when a person no longer even had the energy to complain.
Claire sat on the wide windowsill beneath the window, her guitar resting against her thigh. With one hand, she mindlessly spun a pick between her fingers, while the other supported her chin. Outside, dusk was slowly settling in, and the city lights were beginning to reflect in the glass. The room was stuffy. It smelled of coffee, dust, cables, and that distinctive scent of equipment that should have been cleaned a long time ago.
On the floor, between the amplifiers, lay sheets of paper with names on them. Nineteen. Nineteen people auditioned. Zero guitarists.
Claire glanced at the clock.
“Five thirty-two.”
“I know what time it is.” Chris replied.
He sat behind the drum kit, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. He looked like a man who had been trying to remain calm for the past two hours solely because someone had to.
“I’m asking whether we know what time it is, or whether we’ve officially given up and accepted that we’re going to live here.” Claire raised an eyebrow.
Chris looked at her over the snare.
“One more person.”
“Chris.”
“One.”
“There’s no one left.”
“There is.”
Claire sighed.
“That’s exactly why I’m asking what time it is.”
Jill, standing by the microphone, laughed quietly.
“Leave him alone. At least he still has hope.”
“Hope is great.” Claire said. “Especially when we’ve spent three hours listening to people who apparently found out yesterday that a guitar has more than three strings.”
Chris snorted with laughter.
Jill shook her head.
“You weren’t perfect at your first audition either.”
“I never said I was.”
“You did.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Claire.”
“Fine, maybe I did.”
Chris lightly tapped the rim of the snare with his drumstick.
“See? And that’s exactly why we need him.”
“Who?” Claire looked at him.
“The guitarist.”
“Oh. I thought you were talking about another band member.”
“Very funny.”
“I try.”
Jill smiled to herself. Their band had been meant to be simple from the beginning. Chris on drums. Jill as the vocalist. Claire on guitar and backing vocals. Three people were enough to play, but they weren’t enough to achieve the sound they were looking for. They needed a second guitar.
Someone who could not only play, but understood music. Someone who wouldn’t try to drown everyone else out. Someone who knew how to work with a band.
In theory, it shouldn’t have been that difficult. In practice, it had turned into a nightmare.
The first candidate played brilliantly, but refused to play anything except his own compositions. The second technically knew everything he was supposed to, but had absolutely no feel for it. The third was convinced that because he had once performed in a school band, he should automatically become the leader. The fourth was an hour late. The fifth forgot his guitar. The sixth showed up with a guitar.
Just not his own.
The seventh asked whether Chris really had to play live when they could use a drum machine. Chris still looked offended to this day.
The eighth tried to hit on Jill. The ninth tried to hit on Claire. The tenth tried to hit on both. The eleventh didn’t even know the songs they were supposed to play. The twelfth went to the wrong room. The thirteenth said that rock was a little outdated.
The fourteenth was brilliant, but wanted three times more money than they could pay him. The fifteenth said that he didn’t believe in teamwork.
The sixteenth couldn’t tune his guitar. The seventeenth was so nervous that for five minutes he couldn’t get a single sound out of his guitar. The eighteenth… Claire didn’t even want to think about him. And the nineteenth had just walked out.
And that was why they were sitting in silence now.
“All right.” Jill said after a moment. “Maybe that really is enough.”
Chris put down his drumstick.
“No.”
“Chris.”
“We still have one more.”
Claire jumped down from the windowsill.
“Who?”
Chris pointed at the door.
“I don’t know.”
Claire frowned.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I got a message.”
“From whom?”
“Some guy.”
“That’s very helpful.”
“He said he’d be here in a few minutes.”
Claire looked at Jill.
Jill shrugged.
“I don’t know anything.”
“So you invited someone without consulting us?”
“I didn’t invite him. He said he was coming.”
“That’s even worse.”
Chris sighed.
“Claire, seriously. One person. If he’s terrible, we’re done.”
“We were supposed to be done fifteen minutes ago.”
“So we’ll be done in twenty.”
“Chris.”
“Claire.”
For a moment, they stared at each other in silence.
Jill cleared her throat.
“Should I get some popcorn?”
Claire rolled her eyes.
“No.”
“Shame.”
The sound of footsteps came from the hallway.
Chris looked up. Claire crossed her arms over her chest. The door opened. The man who entered the room looked a little different from most of the people who had passed through it that day. Not because he was particularly extravagantly dressed. Quite the opposite.
Dark pants, a plain T-shirt, a leather jacket. His hair fell over his forehead in a way that looked completely accidental, although Claire suspected he had probably spent more time in front of the mirror than he would care to admit. He carried a guitar case in one hand. His phone was in the other. He looked around the room. His gaze stopped on Chris, then Jill, and finally Claire.
Claire instinctively straightened. She didn’t like the way he looked at her. It wasn’t intrusive. Just attentive. As if he were quickly assessing the situation.
“Am I late?” he asked.
Chris looked at the clock.
“About twenty minutes.”
The man glanced at his own phone.
“Nineteen.”
Claire raised an eyebrow.
“That changes a lot.”
He looked at her.
“I didn’t say it did.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Jill pressed her lips together to hide a smile.
Chris stood up.
“Leon Kennedy?”
“Yes.”
“Chris Redfield.”
They shook hands.
“Jill Valentine.”
Jill offered him her hand as well.
Leon nodded.
“Nice to meet you.”
Claire remained silent.
Leon looked at her.
“And you?”
“Claire.”
“Claire…?”
“Redfield.”
“Chris’s sister?”
“Unfortunately.”
Chris snorted.
“I heard.”
Claire looked at him.
“Heard what?”
“Nothing.”
Leon set down the case.
“I got the address from a friend. He said you were looking for a guitarist.”
Chris nodded.
“We are.”
“That’s good.”
“Except the auditions are basically over.”
Leon glanced at the clock.
“I know.”
“So…”
“I know.”
“Then why did you come?”
Leon hesitated for a second.
“Because I want to try.”
Claire gave a quiet snort.
“Everyone did.”
Leon looked at her.
“I’m not everyone.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
Chris shot Claire a warning look. She shrugged. Leon, meanwhile, only smiled slightly. He didn’t look offended. That irritated her even more.
“Do you have experience?” Chris asked.
“A little.”
Claire looked at his guitar case.
“A little how much?”
Leon opened the case.
“Enough.”
“Very specific.”
“I try not to brag.”
“That’s a first.”
Jill covered her mouth with her hand.
Chris rubbed his face.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“Let him play.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“That’s exactly why I’m worried.”
Leon took out his guitar. Claire involuntarily looked at the instrument. It wasn’t a new, shiny guitar bought a week ago just to look good at an audition. It was clearly well used. There were a few small scratches on the body and worn spots around the frets.
Claire knew that type of guitar.
Those instruments had a history.
“What are we playing?” Leon asked.
Chris pointed at the sheet.
“One of our songs.”
Leon walked over to the music stand.
“Do you have it written down?”
“Chords.”
“That’s enough.”
Claire frowned.
“You don’t know the song.”
“No.”
“So how are you going to play it?”
“I’ll listen.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Claire looked at Chris.
“He’s confident.”
“I noticed.”
Jill stepped up to the microphone.
“Want me to sing?”
“If possible.”
Claire snorted.
“How gracious.”
Leon looked at her.
“You have a problem with that?”
“With what?”
“With everything I say?”
Claire smiled coldly.
“Not yet. Give me time.”
Jill looked at the ceiling.
“Claire, please.”
“What?”
“Let him survive his first day.”
“That depends on him.”
Leon stepped closer.
“Are you always this nice?”
“Only to people who are late to auditions.”
“In that case, I’ll come earlier next time.”
Claire opened her mouth, but for a moment she couldn’t find a response. Leon turned to Chris.
“Second song?”
Chris nodded. This time, he didn’t need any instructions. They played. Then a third. And a fourth. By the fourth, Claire had stopped thinking about not wanting him in the band. She had started thinking about the music. And that was much worse.
Because Leon really could play. Not in a way that irritated her with flashy showmanship. Quite the opposite. He was damn restrained. He knew when to play harder, when to pull back, when to let her guitar carry the melody. More importantly, he listened. Really listened.
When Claire changed part of the arrangement halfway through the song, Leon immediately followed her. When Chris sped up, Leon adjusted his tempo. When Jill improvised vocally, Leon created space for her.
After they finished the fourth song, Chris rested his drumsticks on his knees.
“Okay.”
Jill took her hand off the microphone.
“Okay.”
Claire looked at them.
“What okay?”
Chris smiled.
“Okay.”
Leon looked at Claire.
“So I passed?”
“There’s no exam here.”
“Then why are you looking at me like I failed?”
Claire opened her mouth.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Jill sighed.
“God.”
Chris laughed.
“All right. Enough.”
Leon put down his guitar.
“So?”
Chris looked at Jill. Jill looked at Claire. Claire felt the entire responsibility suddenly fall onto her.
“I don’t know.”
Chris frowned.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“It means I need to think about it.”
“About what?”
“About whether I want him in the band.”
Leon crossed his arms.
“Can I know what exactly there is to think about?”
Claire looked at him.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Leon laughed shortly.
“Great.”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
“It sounds like a bad thing.”
“That’s because I don’t know you.”
“Then get to know me.”
Claire fell silent. The sentence sounded strange. Not because of what he had said. Because of the way he had said it.
Leon apparently realized it too, because he cleared his throat and looked away.
“I meant the music.”
“Sure.”
“Sure.”
Chris stood up.
“Listen. We need to make a decision.”
Jill nodded.
“I agree.”
Claire looked at Leon. For several seconds, they stared at each other. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know if he could function with them for longer than one evening. She didn’t know whether his calm demeanor was just an act. She didn’t know if he would want to change everything they had been building over the past few months.
But she knew one thing.
When they played, everything suddenly started working. And that was the most irritating part.
“Five-minute break.” Chris said. “Then we make a decision.”
Jill unplugged the microphone. Leon put his guitar away. Claire stayed where she was. When Chris and Jill walked out into the hallway, the door closed behind them.
The room fell silent.
Claire looked at Leon. Leon looked at Claire.
“All right.” he said.
“All right.”
“I guess we don’t like each other.”
Claire crossed her arms.
“I guess not.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
Claire glanced at his guitar.
“On whether you can tell the difference between a band and your own ego.”
Leon raised an eyebrow.
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Can you?”
Claire said nothing for a moment.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Silence fell again. This time, however, it wasn’t quite as unpleasant.
Claire looked toward the closed door.
On the other side, Chris and Jill were talking in hushed voices. In a few minutes, they would decide.
Claire didn’t know yet that this decision would change much more than just the sound of their music. For now, she only knew that for the first time in weeks, they had a real chance to create the band they had always dreamed of.
And that the man who had just brought them that possibility was probably the most irritating person she had met that day.
The door opened.
Chris walked in first. Jill followed right behind him. Both had serious expressions. Leon straightened. Claire placed her pick on the amplifier. Chris looked at them both.
“All right.”
Jill stood beside him.
“We need to make a decision.”
Leon and Claire exchanged a brief glance. This time, neither of them smiled. Not yet. They still didn’t know what they were going to decide.