Once More, With Feeling
My posture was perfect. My voice was enviable by many. But my duet partner always had something to say.
"Once more, with feeling."
Flames of anger ignited within me, and I could feel that very heat streaming through my veins. We've been singing the same two lines for an hour.
I threw the sheets of music at him. Too bad paper was so light; the sheets barely touched him. Instead, they swung back and forth in the space between us, until eventually landing.
"It's a duet. It doesn't work without the emotion and connection between the two vocalists." he seemed impatient.
"Well maybe you should find a new partner, one that actually connects with you. We're like parallel lines, we'll never connect." I stormed out of the room, never bothering to give him one last glance.
I guess it was guilt that pulled me back to the practice room five minutes later. And to my surprise, he was still there, leaning calmly against the wall, as if he expected my return.
He sang his line.
I sang my line.
And then our voices overlapped in a melodious miracle.
Or at least, I thought so.
"Dammit, you're not absorbing anything I say."
"I'm sorry, emotion and feeling are very vague words." I sneered, "Besides, it's not like I'm automatically able to perform with feeling after being told those magic words."
"Magic words?" He sounded sincerely confused.
"Once more, with feeling." I mocked. "You repeat yourself more than my grandpa."
"Haha." sarcasm was dripping off his laughter.
I embodied fulfilling, triumphant victory at that moment.
"Can you please take this song seriously?" his solemn face somehow took away all the joy of my victory that I gained in the past second.
"What?" There was his sincere confusion again.
"Why did you choose me as your singing partner? You could very well perform with any girl from the choir. So, why me?" There were girls who could sing way better than me, perhaps even with feeling. I had to pose the question.
"We don't get along."
"And it doesn't seem like I could ever live up to your expectations."
"And apparently, I don't feel when I'm singing."
"Oh, just shut-up for two seconds will you?"
He snatched the music sheets from my hand.
He leaned over me until his shadow fully engulfed me.
He then did something strange—he kissed me. But the stranger part was that I didn't dislike it.
He pulled away soon after; his eyes exploring the room in an attempt to avoid my glance.
"Parallel lines do connect." he mumbled under his breath while pointing to the music sheets in his hand.
And I saw. I saw that the bar lines were connected by various notes. I couldn't help but snickered at his dorky yet adorable comment.
I walked up to him and pulled him close.
"Once more, with feeling."
We both knew I wasn't talking about the singing.