milliways_bar | (no subject)

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For as long as he's been here, he hasn't really spent a lot of time with other musicians and lately his time's been so narrowly focused on one person and one person alone. For that, he makes absolutely no excuses. But it's time for something different; he's claimed the piano this afternoon but also has his sax around his neck.

And a tenor sax is a hard thing to hide.

There's mostly-empty sheet music in front of him and a pencil behind his ear. This is how he writes his songs, and writing songs is a great way to pass the time while he waits.

[9-year-old tag: Hey Arnold]

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Hopefully he hasn't been kept waiting too long, but Millitime is funny. The persons he is scheduled to meet have paused a short distance away to confer.

"I guess that's him?"

(Gee, Enzo, do you see any other people with saxophones waiting by the piano?)

"I'm pretty sure it's gotta be."

Beat.

"Are we gonna...go over there?"

"We kinda have to."

It's okay, they can totally be taken seriously by a... he looks about 30... by a grown-up who is obviously a Serious Musician.

"You go first."

Totally.

"Right," says Arnold with a sigh. "I knew that was coming."

And then he takes a deep breath, and approaches the piano.

"Mr. Gren?"

It was that note, that one note, that was bugging him. He's finally got it: takes the pencil out from between his teeth, scribbles it on the score and turns around and...

...they're just kids. He didn't know that. This is going to be fun.

"Just Gren, no mister needed. Who's who?" He looks from the short one to the taller one and back again: he remembers being young. It wasn't that long ago.

"I'm Arnold," he volunteers. "And that's Enzo."

Beat. "You write music, too?"

Arnold thinks that's pretty cool.

"Well, hi Arnold, hi Enzo. I do write music -- mostly jazz -- but I hear you write music too. You've got a song that wants a saxophone. You want to share it with me?"

Luckily for everyone concerned, he likes kids and he's pretty good with them. It takes a lot of nerve to put out an open call for musicians like they did and he appreciates that. The sax nestled against his body catches the light from above and glints: he likes it when that happens. It almost makes him feel like he's back on stage again, and even if he didn't realize it, he's missed that.

"Uh, yeah! It's, well, here..."

He swings his guitar around to his front and looks inquiringly at Arnold.

Arnold obediently produces his harmonica from his pocket.

"We didn't exactly write it down," he explains.

He'll just let Enzo count this one off.

Enzo nods time for a moment—one, two, ready, and ♩♭♩♬♪♮♫♫♩

And, since at this point it's mostly just a...well, chorus, it's over pretty soon.

"It's not really a whole song yet," Arnold says. "That's why we needed more people."

It's a pretty sweet little tune they've come up with, and he can see where a layer of something a little more dominant might come in handy. If they play it for him a few more times, he'll be able to improvise something decent for it. He's got the key, the rhythm, and the basic structure of the song in his brain already.

"I think I can probably help you finish it. At least the bare bones of it, if you want." He considers himself a guest along on this musical journey, and it's their baby. No overstepping his bounds, even though he could easily take over, rewrite a part here and there, have it finished and turn it into something a little more polished.

He would never.

"Play what you've got a couple more times and then I'll jump in, if you don't mind."

"Cool!" He starts again.

And Arnold follows suit. And at the end, this time, they'll take a few beats and then loop into it again.

Third time's a charm, or so they say and this time he jumps in. It's a fun little jazz tune they've got, both slow and fast, warm and cool, and he likes it. They did a pretty good job with it.

He's done more than enough session work to know how this goes: they'll keep trying it, like variations on a theme, until they get what sounds right. When the song ends he signals to play it again and this time he tries something a little different. When it's over for the fourth time, he signals for them to stop.

"So. It's your song. Are either of those the direction you want to go in? The first was a little moodier and the second more upbeat, but I like them both."

For a moment he rests the sax on his knees, takes a sip of water. "But it's your song, so you get to pick. Or if neither of those work, we'll keep going until we get something you like."

"Hmm." He turns to Arnold. "I dunno. We were kinda going for the mysterious thing before, but the Bar's fun, too..."

"But the upbeat theme still had a pretty mysterious sound. I think it effectively captured the busyness that accentuates most people's bar experience."

...We know, we know, he reads too much.

"How old are you?" He didn't mean to ask, or at least he's not asking to be mean or anything. It's just that he's curious. The pair of them came up with a pretty neat idea, and they talk big.

Of course they do. They're boys, and that's what boys do.

"Or, you know, we can try it again. Until I come up with something that fits the idea in your head. Or also, keep in mind I might not be the right person for this song and if that ends up being the case, tell me. I won't be offended."

"I'd be eleven if I was human. Arnold says he's nine, but I'm not sure I believe him."

"Almost ten," Arnold says, as though Enzo had been wrong.

"We could try for a happy medium, I guess. Something that's a little upbeat, but still plenty mysterious. What do you think of that, Enzo?"

"Sounds good to me!" And leaves room for lots of exciting riffs!

"A little upbeat but plenty mysterious. Okay, I can do that." The sax goes to his lips again. Having it here is kind of a miracle and he remembers when he got it. He could hardly believe his good luck.

"You two are in charge. Let 'er rip, or just say when."

It amuses him greatly to take musical direction from a nine-year-old and an eleven-year-old. Enzo's if I was human statement would have given him pause about three or four years ago, but not any more. He's been here too long to let stuff like that faze him.

And although Enzo came up with the original tune, it's the youngest of the group who's really in charge. He's more of a habitual jazz man. Boy. Whatever.

He grins and starts it up again.

And Arnold comes in a few beats later, aiming for the same goal of 'mysterious yet upbeat' he's set for the others.

This is fun, he usually doesn't have other people to play with.

For a not-quite-ten-year-old, Arnold's pretty good on harp. And Enzo has a few chops of his own on guitar; he joins in with what he hopes is what they're looking for. It's jazzy, a little bluesy too -- that's a good combination for mysterious -- but it bubbles along. He's no John Coltrane or Charlie Parker, but he's not bad either and he has been playing a long, long time.

To his ears, it sounds pretty good. As well as a pick-up trio can sound when two of its members are just kids and the third's dead.