Cold Reads | HS

Focus

She smiled slightly, intrigued. "Do you write the lyrics first or the music?"

Her curiosity was charming, and I felt another brief burst of affection as her eyes studied me.

"Depends," I replied, stretching a bit. "Sometimes I'll pick up a guitar and just start strumming chords. Most of the time I'll think of a line or I'll see something that inspires me and start writing lyrics around that."

"Do you usually write alone or with other people?"

"Lyrics? Alone, usually. Not always. Or I'll write lyrics and have other people give ideas to edit them and make them better. But when is comes to composition, I usually like to bounce ideas off other people."

Francesca hesitated, thinking. "Have you ever thought about combining the two?"

"The two what?"

"Film and music. Would you ever work on a soundtrack? Or compose a musical?"

"Hmm," I mused. I had wondered about it briefly in the past. "Maybe. But possibly far in the future. I want to write another album, go through another tour."

"You like to perform," she stated, not a question.

My eyes go back to hers after drifting up the walls. "I love performing."

"I can tell," she agreed. "Even when we're with a small group of people, your energy is... electric. Even when you don't mean to, you capture people's attention." She smiled at me kindly. "It's not difficult to guess that you would enjoy entertaining a full arena."

"Can I watch you sometime?"

"Watch me write?"

She shook her head. "Perform. Even when all of this... is over. We'll still be friends, right?"

Friends.

"Of course," I replied. "You're welcome to any of my shows."

She smiled brightly, moving so that her body was over mine, most of her weight resting on top of me.

"Does this hurt your back?" she asked kindly.

"No," I replied honestly. "It's usually just if I overwork myself."

"I'm sorry for asking so many questions," she whispered, leaning down to kiss me chastely. "I'm a gemini."

"I'm gonna be honest," I replied, holding back a smirk. "I don't have any idea what that means."

She leaned down so our faces were close, lips nearly touching. "It means that we are very compatible." She kissed me, slow and deep. "We make a good team."

Any intimacy I thought that moment would bring fizzled out as soon as she raised her hand to give me a high five.

xxx

"Salut, Papa."

I watched Francesca warily out of the corner of my eye as she answered her phone. Her forehead had creased when she'd read the contact name flash on the screen.

"Comment vas-tu?"

I knew almost no French, but I was able to deduce that she was speaking with her father. I turned down the volume on the television so that she could hear him.

Lounging on my large sectional couch, Francesca and I had been the epitome of relaxed. I took up one side of the sofa, lying on my back, arms folded behind my head with the remote in my hand. Francesca lounged beside me, socked feet up on my coffee table. I'd invited her over to spend the night, and we'd just finished dinner.