Back outside Issey took her rightful place at the piano and gave Darren some warm ups to try. She felt like she had a good handle on where he was comfortable in his voice and where he felt like he had to work to get, but could hear the potential for so much more if he knew how to relax into a note instead of fighting it into submission. His pitch was fairly good so she was able to leave the piano and get a little more "hands on" when she felt it was warranted.
"We're gonna work through 'Silly Love Songs', I think that's the most comfortable of the songs for you that we'd want to get into the live show. Let's take it straight through one time and then I'll take it apart. "
Darren nodded and then gave a very loud, strangely stressed version of the song. She just shook her head. "Sit down." She moved from the piano. "Not alone. Sing it for me."
The sun was setting, turning to liquid in front of their eyes. He began to sing, earnestly. "Stop." He looked up. She sat next to him on the bench, "Look around you. Do you see that sunset? Can you feel the change in the air? Take a moment to check in with your skin, feel the heat leaving the day, the chill just on the edges of the breeze. You were flirting with me not an hour ago, now you're spiting words at me. Sing. To. Me. Take in this moment, close your eyes, take a breath and make it mean something. Not alone. Sing it. To Me."
Darren closed his eyes a moment, clearly willing to allow himself to experience things the way she wanted him to. When he opened them he looked at her from under long lashes and his fingers moved slowly, caressing the notes. It was the most beautiful version of Not Alone imaginable and she let him sing it out, adding runs, changing verses until he felt the ending with his heart.
They both let the silence fill the space around them. It was Darren who spoke first. "I've never…" he reached for words he couldn't find and settled on, "Thank you for that."
"It's all right there. When you write it comes from here." She touched his chest where his heart was. "When you sing your own songs usually it comes from here." She touched his stomach, his gut. "When you sing Glee stuff it's all right here." She wrapper her fingers around his throat lightly. "I want you to sing with everything you are. I'm want the feel of the ground under your feet to make a difference in the sound that comes out of you. I can help you to do things you didn't even know you could do but you have to trust me completely because my methods are not typical."
His eyes locked to hers and she felt a little twist in her own gut when he spoke. "I'm all yours."
Oh this was not going to be easy. She'd never connected to someone so quickly, not at work and not in life. She couldn't explain it but there was something in his eyes, his voice, and his comfort in his skin that hooked her. Most people flinched slightly the first time she touched them while working together. It was not the normal approach for a coach, not a pop/rock coach anyway. Opera coaches tended to beat the crap out of you, Issey could still feel the bruises. Darren though almost seemed to lean into her touch; there was none of that awkwardness that is so frequently prevalent in the first days of coaching and none of the looks of disbelief, so far anyway, at her practices.
They returned to working on Silly Love Songs but it wasn't long before Marianna came in with their dinner. Darren followed Issey inside as the girl came in. "Marianna, I thought we had Clarissa until 8 tonight?" she pointed out to the table on the deck directing Marianna to set up dinner out there.
"Si, but Clarissa son is broken by car so I come early."
Marianna was a lovely girl and very efficient but her English was not so good. "Wish my Italian was better, I'd find out what that actually meant." Issey lamented.
"Che cosa è accaduto a Clarissa' figlio di s?" Darren inquired. Marianna explained, and Darren interpreted that Clarissa's son was in a car accident so she had to leave early.
Issey felt her knees go a little weak. "You speak Italian."
"Si. Vino?"
She had a standing dinner order when she was working, there were very limited things her singers could eat and still sound the way she wanted them to, wine was not on that list. She took the bottle from him and looked at the note attached.
"Thank you for taking us on. Relax tonight and get ready for a whirlwind tomorrow. ~ Ryan"
Bad idea. On the other hand she'd been working non stop, she had a long road ahead and this beautiful guy speaks Italian. She deserved to give in to a bad idea every once in awhile.
She handed the bottle back to him and sunk into a chair. "Vino."
He filled their glasses then chose the seat across from her, his view of downtown Vegas, hers quickly becoming nothing more than Darren and darkness behind him where the canyons were visible before.
Over dinner they talked about what songs he thought he should sing in the show versus what the producers would probably ask for. He was incredibly humble and obviously grateful for the opportunities being given to him. He shared what it was like to be chosen as Blaine and how honored he was at being given such a wonderful storyline. Every word just drew her in further. When they were done eating he stood and grabbed the bottle and his glass, "Let's get comfortable, you look tired."
"Wow, thanks."
"Beautiful but tired."
"Too late."
"Now you're looking for compliments."
She looked at her empty glass. "Probably. Sorry. I wouldn't normally; to be honest I'm pretty spent." He started toward the rotating sofa but she groaned, "No spinning, not for me, daybed." It just happened that the daybed was small and intimate while the sofa would fit 10 to 15 people comfortably. She didn't plan that, she just hated that stupid sofa. In fairness he could have headed for the plush lounge chairs by the hot tub if he wanted. Instead he settled next to her on the day bed, their backs against the headboard, feet stretched in front of them, arms touching.
Darren refilled her glass. "What was your last job?"
She shared her stories, relentless touring, and endless pursuit of perfection sometimes for people who didn't care if they ever achieved it. She usually chose to keep her process to herself, not discussing it with her clients, or anyone really, but with Darren's easy questioning and obvious interest she talked for a long time.
They finished the bottle and started a second from the bar. He offered his opinion of her life in two quiet words. "Sounds lonely."
She considered this. "Sometimes. Most of the time I guess, but I stay too busy to notice. I'm always surrounded with people."
"You can be lonely in a crowd. It sounds like everyone depends on you for emotional stability a lot. That's a gift, but it has to be a heavy weight at the end of the day."
She weighed her answers. He was, after all, a client, and it was a given that a time would come on this tour when his emotional stability would depend on her, she had never been on a tour without this element. Because of that she should tell him that she could handle it, that yes, it was a gift, and yes it could be heavy but that she was well equipped and welcomed the opportunity. This was not only her standard answer if asked by her bosses, but also true. Not the whole truth though.
Refilling her wine glass was his excuse to move even closer to her and she allowed her head to rest against his shoulder enjoying the buzzing in her brain. "If I'm honest I like it when people depend on me. It makes me feel useful, like I have a place to be, otherwise I feel in the way. It works in this strange way though; it connects me to people but keeps me separate at the same time."
Darren leaned his cheek on the top of her head. "Transient life on the road with people you are connected to but separate from sounds like a fear of intimacy. You use it to teach, to inspire confidence but don't allow others to get close to you." She shivered, maybe from a passing breeze and he put his arm around her. "What are you afraid of?"
The answer in that moment was, not much. He took her wine glass from her hand and kissed the top of her sleeping head.
