Chapter Three (2)

Lana was here. Why was Lana here? Terrence had played in several UW Orchestra concerts now and he had never remembered seeing Lana at any of them. Who invited her? Who was she here to see? Was she here to see him? Probably not.

There was a white guy sitting with her. Was he her date? He had a pasty white face, round glasses, well-trimmed hair - he was not particularly attractive, but he had a composed and sensible look that gave Terrence the impression that he was a calm and knowledgable man who appreciated the finer aspects of life. But then he didn't, because after a few minutes he started looking impatient and ill-at-ease, and when he started reading the concert programme it reminded Terrence of a 10 year old boy who was left outside the casino by his father and was struggling to pass time by reading an incomprehensible instruction pamphlet on the rules of Blackjack.

Terrence focused on his music instead. The concert was going very well. The audience looked engaged and no-one was about to doze off any time soon, possibly due to the sheer volume and intensity of Rimsky-Korsakov's Russian Easter Overture. Some of the previous concerts had been tedious, and the music had moved so grudgingly that it seemed to needlessly prolong the night into eternity. But this one was spectacular - Erna waved her baton more vigorously than he had ever seen, the strings bowed the full length of their bows, the brass fanfared and the timpanis rumbled with the adrenaline of a wardrum. The mesmerizing sounds rang through the hall, and when the orchestra struck the final A major triad that spanned three octaves with synthesized conviction and precision, the crowds involuntarily stood up and thundered their applause. Bravo, Bravo!

Terrence felt very good and went back to the dressing room in high spirits. The celebrations continued well into the night, and the noise of spirited chatter was matched perhaps only by the clatter of brass in Tschaikowsky's Capriccio Italien earlier in the evening.

Terrence had wanted to talk to Lana. It had been a while since they last talked, and he was genuinely curious as to how she had been since then. But she had been sitting in the middle of the escalated section just below the balcony, and Terrence lost sight of her as the crowds began shuffling out of the hall. He decided to message her instead.

SMS: So, what's up?
SMS: Great performance.
SMS: Haha thanks yah this time was really good. Good that you came and nice of you to come.

It was sort of an awkward message. Terrence wanted to thank her for coming, but deep inside he had the feeling that it was more her privilege to have been there. He didn't receive a response after the last message, and wondered whether he will ever see Lana again in his life.