The child stood on the wooden floorboards, bending his knees so he was just that much closer to the floor beneath him. The man on stage looked down to smile at the child carefully staring at the ground, the boy’s foot tapping out the beat. The performer nudged the bandmate next to him, jerking his chin in the child’s direction.
“Jacob, stand over there for me mate,” he said, slamming on his guitar as the song hit the key-change, “you could be a life changer.”
Confused, the shy bandmate shuffled closer to the left side of the stage, all the while strumming out his beat on his base guitar. None of the fangirls really cared much for him, they all seemed to dismiss him when compared to the ruby haired lead flicking his hair behind his ears as he sang. Still, he trusted Justin, unvoiced, but true leader of the band – even though he was the guitarist. Jacob turned slightly to see Justin slamming it up with Jack the drummer, appearing to be tearing it up while having a quick word. Jack nodded, catching Jacob’s eyes’, and jerked his chin beyond his sight. Jacob turned and saw the boy, the child’s intense eyes out of place in the roaring teen-smash. The boy’s curling brown hair danced in the breeze created by the smoke machines, his feet slamming out the beat played out by Jack. Curious, Jacob hit his low note a little harder than usual, catching the boy’s shocked eyes as they bounced up. They locked eyes, the boy’s brown eyes taking in the lean giant holding a glittering jet-black bass guitar.
Again.
Jaiden, the lead, lifted his hands into the air as he hit his high-note, pressing the microphone against his mouth like an awkward thirteen-year-old’s first kiss. The drum solo was about to erupt any moment now, giving Jack his moment of rippling biceps and flipping drum-sticks. The whole band pulled their instruments up towards their necks, a move practised countless times. But instead of slamming his note and leaving the rest up to Jack, Jacob saw the child’s eyes widen and joined the drummer. The sound vibrated through the hall, causing the crowd to jump, pause and then scream louder. Jaiden turned to catch Jacob, but Justin had already grabbed his arm and smiled apologetically.
Jacob allowed his fingers to move more than they had all night, creating the best solo of his career. Jack played with him, relying on their old jam sessions before Justin had swung into Jack’s garage one summer day. Jacob’s eyes were fixed on the boy as the child lifted one foot, then the other. Arms were thrown into the air and tears ran down his face. His curls danced around his face as the boy twirled and moved to the beat, breaking into small movements as Jacob’s roamed over his guitar. The solo was almost over, Jack and Jacob exchanging quick glances before Justin joined in, running back to back with the still confused Jaiden beginning the end chorus. The music died down, but still the boy danced, his mouth opening and closing. Sweat poured down both Jacob and Jack’s faces as they quietened and gave the song back to their lead. The boy slowly returned to quietly watching the floorboards.
But his eyes flicked up to see Justin’s hand flung out to him, catching the boy’s finger’s, and pulling him onto stage. The audience watched as Justin pressed the boy’s hand to Jacob’s guitar, and the smile which broke across his face. Jacob smiled down at the boy, seeing his eyes still wet with tears. They once again locked eyes, this close Jacob could see through the boy’s curls ear-aids fastened around his ears. The song ended and he played his final note, feeling it shudder through both him and the boy. Jacob pulled off his guitar and placed it on it’s stand, grabbing his water bottle and offered it to the kid. The boy drank his fill and grabbed Jacob’s hand, spelling out word for word.
“Thankyou. My name is Jasper. You let me feel music.”
A man pulled himself up onto the stage, catching Justin’s hand before pulling him into a hug,
“Thanks man, you guys are the closest thing my boy has to music.”
Jacob bent down to embrace the boy, pulling out his phone from his jean’s pocket and texted, “you let me be music.”
The band clustered around the pair, slapping Jacob on the back and ruffling the kid’s hair. The boy turned to his dad, furiously signing.
“Jasper wants to know what instrument you play,” he told Jacob, pulling his son into his arms, “he’s convinced you’re his hero.”
“Don’t know ‘bout that,” Jacob said, fist-bumping Jasper, “but I play a base guitar, and I’ll be happy to show him a few notes.”
The silent boy’s cry from earlier echoed in Jacob’s ears long after he had turned in, marking the beginning of a deaf-man’s musical journey.
Again.
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