The Concerto Ch. 02

The echoes of the girl's laughter and the music, resonate through the hall like a sky of fading fireworks, and go silent.

The audience applauds.

As the music has faded out and a sense of reality fades back in, those applauding are reminded of the bizarre nature of the piece. Some seem hesitant to clap. But when Farel gestures for the orchestra to stand and presents them, the applause becomes rich and full again.

Farel walks to James, Randall, and Mark, and presents them next. The applause increases audibly as they bow, thanking the audience for enjoying the first ever performance of its kind.

Finally, the musicians step aside and Farel gestures broadly to the girl that some recognized as Mehgan Jackson, still smiling and forming a tall "Y" on the apparatus. Many of the audience members rise to their feet immediately, possibly applauding the woman's courage more than anything else. Over the next half-minute, more and more of them defer to the standing position, and with that, there arises a sense of true appreciation for what has happened.

Farel himself takes a bow, and as the orchestra, the musicians, and the girl leave the stage, the lights dim on the hall floor.

* * *

Meghan has been wheeled out the opposite door that Randall had exited through, and with all the members of the orchestra mulling about backstage, he hasn't found her yet.

He is exhilarated, nervous, and... if he were Mehgan, he would probably be finding a place to change. He leaves the building and waits again in the twilight outside.

The fresh air and the empty campus seem to help him collect his thoughts over the next ten minutes. He decides to try to process the experience from the beginning.

No, from before the beginning.

Before...?

When you hung up and didn't tell her.

Oh, that.

And then the girl in the concerto turned out to be her.

Yes.

How do you think she felt?

Um... why, do you think she felt differently because I didn't tell her beforehand?

Well, different compared to what?

Right, because nothing else happened.

How did you like it?

... I... it was...

What's the matter? Something other than the most wonderful fantasy you've ever had?

I want to say that, and it was... it was fantastic when we really got her laughing. She's really ticklish. My girlfriend is really, really ticklish.

But?

I'd rather... just be able to tell her, and do that kind of thing with her. Just me and her. Who knows what she'll even think of me now? She probably had no idea that I would even be there --

Wait a minute. Hold on just a minute. Of course she knew I would be there. She knew I was performing a concert that night. Farel must have asked her, and she must have somehow put it together --

"Hey, Rand."

Randall zips around to see Mehgan approaching him.

"Oh! Hi... Mehg... I was just... sorry I didn't come and see you..."

She gently shushes him, and comes in for a hug. Mehgan rests her chin on his shoulder. They hold each other in silence for what must be a full minute. Randall pulls out of it, and tries to decide what he should say. He sees the safety of his introverted world inviting him back. At the same time, he sees Farel with those glasses, who wrote the concerto that extolled laughter, telling him "just be honest."

"Mehgan, thank you for accepting the invitation to the performance."

"I was really excited about it," she says, popping herself up to sit on the wall against which Randall was leaning. He joins her. "It was awesome."

"How did you find out what it was going to be?"

"Ellie told Adrian secretly. I know she wasn't supposed to, but I overheard in the dorm. Farel and I generally both eat in the student union and I'd met him a few times since you'd told me he was the grad student. Eventually he asked me."

Randall sighs in amazement.

"I've wanted the chance to do something like that to you for a long time."

"Really?" she looks at him incredulously.

"Yes, of course, really, Mehgan. I really... have always been fascinated with the idea of tickling people."

She shivers a little, smiling. "Why on earth didn't you ever tell me that before?"

"What? That's a hard thing to tell somebody, Mehgan!"

She puts her hand on his hand.

"But I'm your girlfriend, Rand. If you can't tell everything about yourself to me, who can you tell?"

"I know, Mehg. I just... I wanted to tell you eventually. I was trying to tell you that on the phone the other night; I just... couldn't do it. I really think you're such a great person, and you're so beautiful... I just really didn't want to hurt --"

Mehgan sees tears forming in his eyes, and she shushes and holds him again.

"Rand, you're incredibly sweet. If you wanted to tell me something like that, aren't you just being honest?"

He sniffs. "I guess so, yeah."

"And if you're really just trying to be honest, and the person you're talking to feels weird about it, then whose problem is that?"

"... Theirs, I guess."

"All right, then. Stop feeling bad about it, okay?"

Randall hugs her back tightly.

"I love you, Mehg."

"I love you too, Rand. And... I'm not really one to talk. I should be honest with you as well."

He looks over at her.

"That concert was one of the most amazing, most exciting things I've ever experienced."

Randall is silent, but nods, trying to parse her meaning.

"Do you mean...?"

"Sexually... exciting. Very, very much so. And otherwise. I really liked it."

Randall tries not to shake, but he feels as though this is a first for him; like his first kiss.

"Then... I think we have a lot to talk about."

"And a lot of time in which to talk about it. So, Randall, what was your favourite part of the composition? Be honest, remember."

"Honestly? All right... my favourite part was tickling your feet at the end."

Mehgan inhales deeply through a wide smile, and looks at her boyfriend. Each of her shoes is removed by the opposite foot, and falls onto the ground.

"All right, then. Let's begin with that," she says, swinging her feet onto his lap, and resting them there.