Page 23 of Inevitable

Ezra went and took a seat next to Bas. “What happened?”

“You mean besides me fucking up with Drew?” Bas rubbed his palms over his face. “I’m stuck, and it’s a wee bit frustrating. Can you tell?” He sighed and shook his head. “It used to be so easy. It was almost like music was always inside my fingers, so whenever I’d hold an instrument, it’d just flow out of me, but lately it doesn’t anymore. The more I work, the harder it gets, and… What if I’m losing it? Or what if I’m not as good as I thought I was? What if I’m a one-hit wonder and my time is up? I’m entertaining this notion that I can have it all. Play with great bands. Compose. Maybe produce. But what if I should be writing jingles or music for those god-awful musical birthday cards?” Bas seemed to think about it for another moment before he added, “I should start writing for singing telegram companies.”

“At least you have alternative career paths in mind,” Ezra said mildly. “Also, and bear with me here, maybe, just maybe, Drew was right, and you’re stuck because you’re overworked? Don’t you creative types always talk about how it should come naturally and you can’t force the muse?”

“Never once have those words left my mouth.”

“Maybe try not to be an ass to every person who tries to help?” Ezra suggested with a raised brow.

“That was help?” Bas asked, but there was a teasing note in his voice.

Ezra considered Bas for a moment. Ezra wasn’t creative. There were no hidden talents. He had a decent brain and an affinity to rely on logic, and that was it. But maybe being talented at music wasn’t the point. Bas was stuck, and Ezra didn’t have to be a musician to understand what that felt like.

“Do you have any instruments at home?” Ezra asked. He wasn’t sure he was going to help, but he doubted he could make things worse.

“Sure,” Bas said slowly. “You going to play me something? Or are you secretly a musician and are willing to do the work for me? I’ll mention your name in the credits.” Ezra snorted out a laugh, and Bas smiled.

“I have a guitar, or if you’re looking for something less mainstream, I also have a ukulele, flute, and a tambourine,” he said.

Ezra hesitated a moment before he shrugged. What the hell. “Bring them all.”

Bas got up and left, only to be back two minutes later, carrying all the aforementioned instruments.

“Now what?”

“Now… play me something.”

Bas stared at Ezra for so long that Ezra started laughing. “Dude, I thought you were a musician. The way Drew talks about you, you’d think you were some sort of a creative genius. The next coming of Mozart. Or whoever it is you admire most. I know shit all about music. Are you really telling me you can’t play me a song?”

An affronted expression appeared on Bas’s face. “I can, too.” He lifted his chin as he sat down on the couch with a thump. “Any requests?” he asked with a demeanor eerily reminiscent of a sulky teenager whose mom has just volunteered him to do a reading for her book club.

Ezra fought back his smile. “‘Take On Me’ by a-ha.” Ezra lifted a challenging brow. “On the flute.”

Bas looked at him like he suspected Ezra had lost it. After a minute of staring at each other, Bas rolled his eyes and picked up the flute. For a moment, he looked like he was about to say, “Fuck this shit,” and quit, but then, he positioned his fingers.

Bas started playing. Slowly, like he was trying to get his bearings or like he couldn’t remember how the melody went at first, but with every note that followed the last, Bas got more into it. He played through the first verse and the chorus before he stopped and lifted a brow at Ezra.

“Please, that was just a warm-up,” Ezra said. “How’s your ukulele game?”

Bas sent him a cocky grin.

“Why don’t you find out?”

And so it started. Bas did AC/DC on the ukulele and the Beatles on the guitar. At one point, Bas went to dig out more instruments, emerging from the depths of his closet with a keyboard.

In the middle of a loud rendition of “Californication,” Drew came into the room. Bas didn’t notice him at first, but Ezra did. He couldn’t not notice. The tender smile on Drew’s face as he watched Bas was so filled with longing and love that it made Ezra ache.

Bas finished the song, sweaty and breathing hard. His eyes were now locked on Drew’s.

“Did we wake you?”

Drew shook his head. “Can I make a request as well?” he asked with a small smile playing on his lips.

“Go for it.”

“Keyboard,” Drew said as he sat down next to Ezra, so close that the fabric of his shirt caressed Ezra’s bare arm.

“How about a little Journey?” Drew asked.