Terrified eyes darted back and forth, skimming the crowd. Everything seemed so dark from under the bright stage lights; it made faces blur and added difficulty to finding who you were looking for. More flitting as the curtain continued to open. "I see mom and grandma but where is he?"
Late again. Fingers hurriedly fumbled with keys and locks as tattered Converse clad feet pounded the rain washed pavement to the auditorium doors.
Eyes no longer search the audience but the music in front of them. Slender fingers work gracefully on the instrument at hand. What was once considered cacophony during rehearsal resounded as beautiful music. Notes hung in the air like sweet perfume.
"Damnitt. I'm short a dollar," he mumbles to himself, searching pockets for loose change.
"No worries, darling," whispers a gentle voice that ushers him in at the door.
"Thank you."
Empty seats lined the back of the hall. Setting his bag at his feet he removes the necessary equipment to capture every move made on stage. It was a night he did not want to forget.
A pause in the music. Frantic eyes continue their search, finally landing on the boy standing back in the shadows, hiding behind a camera. His only defense, ponders the mind at hand. Sporadic movements meant to catch the blonde's eye, knowing everything was going to be capture. A brief smile graces tender lips.
Everything was so beautiful; he could not help but smile. A quick glance from outside of the camera's lenses proves fatal. His eyes met with the sparkling green ones on stage for a brief moment and send his head reeling. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, Mark had found it in the young musician's dazzling eyes.
Longing eyes searched his face from a distance. The music was all but forgotten, engrained into memory that turned playing into second nature. The song ends, solos announced, bows taken. Green eyes capture the luminous sky blue of the filmmaker's eyes in the dark gloom. If love could be captured in an instant Roger Davis had found it in Mark Cohen's eyes.