If you haven't heard of the instrumental-rock cello duo called 2Cellos, check them out. This story was inspired by the incredible way they interpret rock and pop songs via a classical medium. Also for those so inclined, have fun looking up Quinn's colourful Québecois curses.
As Ethan's bass pedal counted them in, Imaani's body throbbed while her arm automatically moved her bow into position. Feeling the beat pulse through her, she churned out the first few bars of the Arctic Monkeys'
Do I Wanna Know
and tried to channel the heavy rhythm guitar line she'd enjoyed so often. Her cello was now an extension of her body.
Her eyes turned up toward her partner, Quinn, knowing exactly when he'd start playing the vocal line on his own cello. Her background riff melded into the perfect support beneath his melody and she gave him a little smile before turning back to her strings. Behind them but standing in front of Ethan was Claire, mimicking the falsetto background vocals of the original song on her violin.
"If this song were in a movie, it'd be right at the point when the characters either started having sex or robbed a bank," Imaani had told her group members months ago when they started arranging it together for two cellos, a violin and a drum kit.
"Maybe one first, then the other," Ethan joked back. Quinn hadn't said anything, instead furrowing his brow while scribbling notations on his sheet music. He contemplated the notes for a minute, resting his fingers in his auburn hair while his gray eyes squinted, then went back to scribbling. He was a perfectionist, especially when he knew he'd have a discerning audience.
But the kids in the school auditorium today murmured their delight upon hearing string instruments play a hit rock song, as did their teachers standing along the back. Quinn's eyes met Imaani's as they built a crescendo toward the chorus, then entered the second verse.
She looked down to her cello as they headed toward the bridge a second time, but glanced back up just as his lips started mouthing the lyrics to her.
I'm sorry to interrupt
It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of tryin' to kiss you
I don't know if you feel the same as I do
But we could be together if you wanted to
Imaani's concentration tripped and she missed a note but she fell back in with the reassurance that ninety percent of any audience wouldn't recognize short blips in most songs. She grimaced and continued the rhythm guitar riff while Claire picked up her pace with a quicker, more intense violin line toward the end of the song.
"What the hell, Quinn?" Imaani demanded backstage once they'd gone through the routine of answering questions from the kids and playing a couple more songs to finish up the assembly.
"What'd he do now?" Claire asked, looking back and forth between them as she opened her violin case. "Is that why you missed your cue back there?"
"Sure was," Ethan smirked, nestling his sticks in the side pocket of his cargo pants.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Quinn quickly told Imaani, pulling her away as some of the school's music students helping them pack their gear started talking to Ethan. "I didn't mean to say that to you; it just happened in the moment." He paused, getting lost in Imaani's dark brown eyes, not noticing the frown that wrinkled her mocha skin.
"In the moment?" Imaani asked. "If my count is right, this is the third time you've propositioned me during a song in the middle of a concert."
"Propositioned? Whoh, whoh, I might not realize I'm singing along with a song sometimes but I'm not actively trying to hit on you," Quinn explained. Imaani crossed her arms and glared at him.
"But if I'm being completely honest," Quinn added, "my feelings aren't going to change as long we're playing together, as long as I have to see you this much."
"Look, Red," Imaani said softly. "Playing with you guys is the highlight of my week, and I'm happy to help send more business toward the music academy. But we..." she spun her fingers between the two of them, "... can't happen. You know why." She reached down into her pocket and slipped her wedding ring back onto her left hand.
"Just because I don't wear it when we're playing doesn't mean it doesn't exist. If performing together is the problem for you, I don't want to torment you any longer. Let's just round out our existing commitments. Maybe in that time you'll find another partner to replace me."
***Three years earlier***
"Hi, I'm here about the sign in the window?" Upon hearing a woman's voice at the door, Quinn looked up from behind the front desk of the music academy. "Um, it says you can have a free lesson with any instrument?" she asked.
After walking around a couple of pianos and a row of guitars, Quinn found himself peering at a willowy woman with a flawless sable complexion. Her black hair was relaxed in waves that hung to her shoulders and her features were delicate, almost adorable.
She looks like that actress Sharon Leal,
he thought to himself. She seemed to be about 5'6", 135 lbs, and in her mid-thirties.
"Sure," he said. "It's a 30-minute lesson and there's no obligation to continue, but you only get one lesson with the instrument of your choice. If you choose to continue, we have a rental program for the instrument and several lesson packages. Who's the student and what's the instrument?"
"It's me," she smiled shyly. "I'm sure most of your students are kids or teenagers but--"
"No, no," Quinn reassured her. "We get a lot of adults as well. Sometimes you're older and you find yourself with more time and inclination to learn a new thing."
"That's exactly where I am," the woman nodded, looking a bit more comfortable. "Sorry, my name's Imaani. Imaani Farah. I, uh, I always wanted to play the cello. My daughter, Natasha, is in middle school now and just as you said, I'm finding I have more time to do the thing I always wanted to do." Her cute nose wrinkled as if to ask whether she was making sense.
"Well, that's why I'm here," Quinn said, holding out his hand. "Quinn Michaud. I own this place and I'm one of the teachers here along with my friend Ethan. I teach strings and woodwinds; he teaches percussion and brass instruments."
Observing Imaani's dark beauty as she took his hand in hers and lightly shook it, he suddenly felt lanky and awkward with his freckles and auburn hair that turned a deep orange in the sunlight.
Elle est ben chix,
the thought crossed his mind in his native French. It also occurred to him in the same moment that it'd had been a long time since he'd last considered a woman hot.
"You're in luck," he stuttered out loud, a little embarrassed he'd been staring at her, "The cello is my primary instrument as well. I'm free right now to start on your lesson if you have the half-hour." Imaani grinned at him and nodded excitedly.
Quinn had performed in everything from school orchestras to the city's local symphony throughout his adolescence, obsessed with knowing his cello inside out. There was barely any time for dating or a personal life as he also grew interested in other instruments and pursued a degree in music.
He wished he had the patience to actually teach in a school but he felt the public school curriculum to be too restrictive, which is why he chose to work privately. Ethan, who he'd met when they were in their early 20s in the city's symphonic orchestra, joined him later when Quinn's symphony days were drawing to a close. Ethan had hit it big with his alternative rock band right after high school, but his career stalled when the band broke up off the heels of their debut album.
Being in love with music left Quinn with little skill for being in love with actual women, and he wasn't surprised his only major relationship and subsequent marriage--to another musician he'd met in the symphony--fizzled after only a couple of years close to a decade ago.
Standing lean at six feet and about 165 lbs, he wasn't a stranger to flings, especially when women caught sight of his striking gray eyes. But the older he got the more elusive a meaningful relationship seemed. Now in his late 30s, Quinn had accepted the only thing he'd regularly be getting his arms around was his cello.
He got Imaani set up with an instrument and a bow, and positioned himself with his own cello and bow across from her. To his surprise, she immediately shifted beside him and adjusted her fingers on the strings to match his own.
When he raised his bow, she did the same with the grace of a dancer, her back as straight as a rod. He curiously watched her watching him, noting that he could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Her focus was admirable.
"Is there a way I can take this home and fiddle with it?" she asked him as the half-hour drew to a close. "Pun intended," she raised one corner of her full lips in a mischievous smirk.
"I have a notepad that says 'Chekhov Liszt' at the top, so I have no problem with puns, musical or otherwise," Quinn smiled back. "I need to ask you for a deposit though." Imaani nodded, reaching for her purse. As they sorted out the details and he showed her how to place the cello in its case, she signed up for a lesson package.
Quinn felt a mysterious thrill shoot through his spine at the prospect of not only seeing this lovely and bright woman again, but getting to see her regularly. He decided to take a chance.
"Um, it may be a little early to ask this," he started, "but tonight--"
"Tonight?" Imaani asked, gently laying her bow atop the cello, looking away from Quinn. His words died on his lips as he saw her fish her wedding ring out of her pocket and place it back on her finger.
"...tonight..." Quinn stammered, "... you may want to go over the notes we learned," he finished. "You know, while it's still fresh in your mind."
"I can't wait to do just that, my friend," she said while closing her purse and slinging it across her torso. She patted her cello case. "I'm going to be spending a lot of time with this guy in my basement between now and the next time I see you." She finally looked up at Quinn and gave him an excited smile.
"Lucky him," he replied, mentally slapping himself on the forehead.
***Present day***
"Replace you?" Claire said, coming over to them while still holding her bow. "Wait, no. I wanted to tell you guys this tonight at the pub, but this is sounding like an emergency so I'm telling you now. The symphony wants us to sit in with them downtown. At Massey Hall of all places! It's tentatively scheduled for a month from now." Imaani threw Quinn a worried look.
