The Tenors Player That Loved Me
A Novel Based on True Events
By: Oliver Dubon
NSFW
Foreword By the Author
Reanna, j'aime tu
…
bitch.
Table of Contents
There will be something here some day
Chapter I
I don't believe in love at first sight, or that there is one perfect person for everyone in the world and the order in the universe is somehow aligning at a molecular level just so that two almost nothings on an almost nothing can be together, but I've never felt a sense of fate stronger than the fiery burning passion I felt when I saw him take the very first roll step onto that drenched field.
His feet were in perfectly harmonious step with the rest of the band, almost like a cog on a machine rotating only as meticulously as the rest of the cogs in the machine, in a grand ballet that took the form of a pyramid in which every person looking to their superior up the slope of the pyramid, and he was the shining, one dimensional, theoretical point of the pyramid.
Their show was more of a concerto than a marching band show, which is rather odd that I would say considering that all marching band shows should be a beautiful harmony between music and marching. But there was a difference in this band, instead of a musical concerto; their formations formed a harmony in three movements.
The first movement was dark, grim, and ghastly, to introduce the different sections and give the audience a feeling of a graveyard. The icing on the cake of this movement was the piccolo player that was brilliantly placed in the stands among the crowd, playing a mysterious tune that sounded similar to a snake charmer, and the audience was a snake, bending to the will of this suave, seductive band. It made me surprisingly hot in the midst of the rain.
The second movement was brought about by surreal drill and music that could only be described with one word, sexy. It was at this time that I noticed once more the man that I would come to truly believe to be the love of my life. The battery shot through the pit percussion ensemble, and the sects each had their own moment in the spotlight.
The first solo came from the bass drums, and I felt deeply moved, not only by the feeling of their mallets on my very heart, but by the fact that I too understood the struggles of the misunderstood bass drum.
The snare drums then took the field, furiously yet skillfully tapping the drums in a synchronized rhythm that shook me to my core. My cousin Tyler was their counterpart. I could tell that he was more impressed, and not feeling the almost seductive, appreciative feelings that I was at that very moment.
The tenors player performed a lone solo. It was at this point that I not only felt mesmerized, but turned on so brutally, that I almost felt a warmness, a warmness that you only feel during the most intimate moments with your lover. This particular warmness was so great, that there was no force in the universe that could make me feel anything like this other than pure, unadulterated lovemaking, and I realized, that's just what his solo was. Just so, I was skeptical that the accumulation of the rain was the only thing I was feeling on the cold, hard, wet bleacher that I was sitting on.
I mean… he was a tenors player, but I was merely a bass drum. I would have been ecstatically surprised if he had even looked at me, but he was on a completely different level than I, and therefore I hadn't even the slightest hope that such a precise and skilled percussionist would ever give me the time of day.
Or so I thought…