"Hey Ruth."
"Hey Josh. Ready to rock 'n roll?"
Ruth and I have been playing together for a couple of months now. We met when she posted an online ad looking for someone to make music with; I saw it and sent her a message. Both of us play guitar and sing, so we decided to try forming an acoustic duo.
We immediately hit it off the first time we met. There was such an easy air about her; we joked and laughed as if we'd known each other for years. I was nervous that I had never sung with anyone before and I wouldn't be any good, but as soon as we started, something magical happened: our voices melted together, the song took us over and the result was thrilling. It wasn't my imagination, we actually sounded fantastic. And the reason for it, I think, was a tension, a spark hanging between us. I was astounded to find that singing together with this stranger created a powerfully intimate, illicit connection. We sat a few feet apart, facing each other, each with a guitar in hand. As we sang I looked up at her from my guitar and noticed how enticing I found her face, her lips, her skin.
We started meeting once a week for practice. We developed a repertoire of songs. She sang some of them, I sang some, and some we would duet on. We always sat in the same positions, facing each other. It felt that we were shutting out the rest of the world. When we sang together I learnt to completely let go; I could play out of instinct and let my mind roam free. I undressed her a thousand times, I imagined leaning over and cupping her face, kissing her, fucking her. I wondered if she felt the same connection. Sometimes she looked straight into my eyes and I thought she must know everything. But then the song would finish and I wasn't so sure.
On this particular day we were rehearsing for our first gig. We were excited and nervous.