I hope Hailey and Rodrigo sound believable. It's just something I hashed out after seeing the finale. What a wonderful little show this is. I do ship them, but think that it won't be a simple road for them, maybe not even a HEA. But there is something so right about them. All mistakes are my own. The title comes from 'Palaces of Montezuma' by Grinderman. Do tell me what you think, and thank thank thank you for reading!
ooo
It's pretty clichéd, but a whirlwind is not an inaccurate description of Rodrigo himself and what life is like working for him. When she goes home at night it takes her several hours to calm down enough to be able to sleep. Life is a constant fizz of movement energy, constantly twisting back on itself in its haste to find new direction, and inspiration.
But it still grates at her that she is primarily making mate, her chances of ever having a breakthrough in the orchestra dripping down the coffee filter in to the large pot that Rodrigo refuses to imbibe under any circumstances.
Would you mind playing in my orchestra tonight?
The words cause a car crash to happen in her chest and she her palms become oil slicks and she really, really, wants to throw up.
This is not about you, it's not even about me. This is about needing an oboe player.
He believes in her.
Not stupid Betty Cragdale and her iron cast refusal to be in anyway helpful or nurturing towards her. Not Alex and his surrender to the easy option, an easy option she hates to admit she almost took herself. Yes she's sick of starving too, hell all of her money goes to Betty and it does hurt to sit in that beautiful apartment every Saturday. Betty must know she's struggling to make ends meet, yet every week she happily takes Hailey's hard earned cash. Whilst she imagines Betty choosing which lovely restaurant she wants to dine at, she Hailey has to choose which meal to eat for that day. She doesn't live in fear of a broken ankle, or battered feet, but hand injuries. They are another matter. It's so, so tempting to give in. But what would have all this heartache been for?
The orchestra needs an oboe player, but he doesn't really fully understand the extent to which this oboe player needs the orchestra.
He is right, the music runs through her blood and down her fingers, there is no fear no worry to live up to expectations, no judgement, no critics. She is just one part of a bigger body, and together they create this beautiful sound.
It's an exhilarating rush that gives a more satisfying and dizzying high than any drink, drug, or smoke.
As the audience and orchestra alike file out in search of refreshment she bowls over to Cynthia and hugs her oboe, cello and all.
'Hey steady on, I think I'm getting cramp' the older woman replies in her usual cynical tone, but when she pulls away Hailey sees a warmth in her eyes. 'Well, wasn't that something?'
'That was amazing' she gushed, but stops noticing Cynthia looking over her shoulder at something, a wry smile on her lips.
'Hmm, it would seem you're not the only one who thinks so.'
'Um what?'
Cynthia shakes her head as if clearing her thoughts.
'Nothing, yes little Miss social justice did rather put a dampener on things. But I thing Maestro Rodrigo could charm his way out of jail. They tend to have a habit of that.'
Her heady elation gives her some sass which she wouldn't usually exhibit with Cynthia, still finding a line between professional colleague and friend.
'What like growing beards too?'
Cynthia gapes
'I wasn't talking about Thomas!'
Hailey just raises her eyebrows in response.
After stowing her oboe away safely she goes to join the after party Cynthia melting away somewhere on the short walk to the hive of champagne and excited chatter.
Rodrigo is chatting to a few benefactors and suddenly she just need to see him, to thank him for this opportunity. She always gets an endorphin rush from playing, but she has only had to the heady extent of it singing in her blood like this twice before. Once was her final recital at music school, the second was a concert her youth orchestra gave one summer.
He sees her, and immediately excuses himself and that does something to her stomach, that he would drop the important conversation of those around him just to talk to her. But Rodrigo has always been like that, the orchestra members seem to really matter to him. The toffs in suits, or pigs as Anna Maria so delicately put it, help to fund the music but the orchestra is the music.
'Hi-lee rut-e-lidge'
She loves the way he says her name, they once spent an entire car journey to a pet shop of all places with her trying to teach him to say it properly
'Imagine you know someone called Lee and you're greeting them.'
'Hi lee'
She groans
'Okay, bad example.'
She thanks him, and she hates how needy her voice sounds but she sincerely means it from the bottom of her heart. She needed tonight to see that she can do this, she can play with the best of the best.
'You were so good, so good.'
He's close, and his eyes are beaming and she can feel the crackle of the high she's experience in him as well. She doesn't really know who instigated the kiss, it was less a will and more a force beyond both of them. But she knows after he pulls back initially that she definitely reignites it, pushing her lips forcefully to his, making him groan, just pouring all her gratitude and passion and everything she feels when she plays into it.
His hand is warm and sure at her neck. He slows the kiss and just caresses her lips, as if trying to tell her something.
She laughs nervously, and her name on his lips is an awed exclamation: She has surprised him once again.
His fingers brush her cheek, before walking away, in reassurance perhaps.
She is dazed, floating even higher than before and it takes her second to come back to herself, and she decides to go and find some Champagne.
As if she needs any help to get a buzz.
Lizzie decrees that they need to go and properly celebrate 'Hailey's kickass debut in the orchestra', so as she and Alex, Stamford is mainly watching her friend in awe like a little puppy, argue on where to go, Hailey excuses herself.
She winds her way to the back of the building, to the service area she sometimes comes to when she Rodrigo has nothing for her to do and she can't stand another minute of her aching heart from watching the orchestra rehearse.
It's just an alley way with some dumpsters and brick building all around. But she can hear the symphony of the street and it's more beautiful tonight than ever before.
She jumps when the door opens, too lost she was in the sound of sirens and whirring of ventilations systems.
'Hi-lee'
Her eyes flick open and she suddenly has the overwhelming urge to apologise. that happens to her a lot, a tidal wave of a particular emotion, usually negative and self deprecating guilt trips her into word splurging. She's good at that around Betty.
'I'm sorry about the kiss, I know it was totally inappropriate you being my boss and all, I guess I just got caught up in the moment.'
He smiles and brushes a strand of her from her face.
'Good. You did surprise me, but I was so thankful to see the blood in you again. It's been missing for a while, and after what you said earlier about Betty Cragdale, a lot has become clear to me. Never, ever apologise for passion Hi-Lee. The music lives in you.'
'But still, I'm with Alex, and you and Anna Maria' she says hesitantly, not really sure what he and Anna-Maria have except blazing rows and feisty make up sessions.
He snorts
'I think I have blown it with her when I chose you all over her.'
Her heart warms when he says 'you all' and not just the orchestra.
'But yes, I understand, no more kissing' he pauses and she is glad of the night to hide her blush 'you are rather good at it though.' He says with a waggle of his brows as he goes to mirror her position leant against the wall.
Her eyes flutter shut again as the outside sounds build up as if reaching the crescendo of the movement. There's an army of sirens and some shouting, accompanied by half a dozen car doors slamming.
'Can you hear it?' She asks
'Hi-Lee, that is what I hear every second of every day.'
His body is close enough to hers that their fingers find each other and she feels again the zing of something on contact with his skin.
He said the music lives in her.
Well, if that's the case it's made its permanent abode in him.
They stay like that for hours, just revelling in the sound and each other's company. When they finally go inside she expects to have an angry Lizzie and Alex after her and a thousand missed calls on her phone. But all is silent, the last dregs of abandoned champagne the only remainders of the after party.
So she goes home to bed. The next day Lizzie asks if she's feeling better.
'Oh I'm fine thanks' she replies with a frown.
'Only your boss said that you'd gone home with a headache last night and that we should go on without you.'
'Did he now?' She breathes in wonder.
Oh he was good.